We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt

From Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik, "An Exalted Evening".
עבדים היינו לפרעה במצרים
Avadim hainu l'phar'oh b'mizrayim
We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt

We were slaves to Pharaoh, not Pharaoh's slaves.  The former would be only a juridic-social description; the Jews belonged to Pharaoh legally, but spiritually we were free people with our own individual minds and an independent approach to reality. However, when we state that someone is "Pharaoh's slave," we identify his whole personality with Pharaoh. Serving Pharaoh is not just incidental; it is the whold purpose of his life.  Pharaoh's Egyptian slaves are called "avdei Phar'oh".  Our service to the Almighty is not something foreign and incidental, but rather something indispensable to our existence, something intrinsic and inseparable from our ontological awareness. That is why the term "eved Hashem, G-d's servant" is used in the Bible. We are only servants of G-d, and nothing else.

An Esther Moment

It’s crazy - I've read three Purim books this season: Esther: A Breslov Commentary on the Megillah, that my husband picked after a shiur of visiting Breslov Chasidim; Purim and the Persian Empire, used in preparation to teach a Sunday school and women’s class; and The Queen You Thought You Knew, that I picked up accidentally at the store because it looked cute, which turned out to be the best as it related to the ideas in the other two books.   And after reading all three books, here was my Esther moment.  After requesting time off from the not-so-friendly boss for the Passover holiday, I receive an e-mail that read verbatim “What is Passover holiday?”  After a few deep breaths, I put together a polite response “It is a Jewish religious holiday that people of my faith observe every year, along with a number of other holidays when we cannot work.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Passover”. 

Orphan Souls

Contemplating the untimely passing of Rabbi Daniel Moscowitz, I thought how frustrating it must have been to preach to the diverse crowd of people many of whom were coming to Chabad mainly to socialize and eat the sumptuous Kiddush, unburdened by synagogue membership fees or obligations to keep mitzvoth. Of course Rabbi Moscowitz was on a different level and would not hold the grudge, but even Moses was frustrated at times with the "stiff-necked people". And then I thought ...that the greatest mesiras nefesh-level Mitzvah of Rabbi Moscowitz and people like him is caring of the orphans. Because when a Jewish soul, a holy neshama, is born into this world, into a secular family, a society of atheists and skeptics, she is like an orphan. A orphan soul may be placed in a pampered body with well engaged mind, but the soul - the soul yearns for something bigger, seeks higher purpose, starving for mitzvoth, thirsty for the word of Torah - and the mind is either unaware of this condition or is greatly confused.

The mitzvah of taking care of the orphans is unqualified by any conditions. Torah does not say to care about orphans only if they are nice, if they keep Shabbat, learn Torah, pray every day - it says to take care of the orphans and widows and welcome a stranger - unconditionally, because we were slaves and strangers in a strange land.

Eshet Chayil - linen and purple wool

That Friday I felt completely empty and cut off, as if all bridges were burnt and there was nothing going on except the daily grind.  I spent Friday afternoon at a particularly absurd, meaningless “all hands” meeting, half-reading a shiur on the company-owned smart phone, half listening to a new and improved strategy to cut down costs and lower the bottom line, as if I were not at the bottom already. 

I almost forgot that we were hosting two yeshiva boys, invited to read Torah at the synagogue the next morning.  My son let them in and showed around.  I walked into the house an hour before Shabbat to the sound of trope – the boys were practicing reading the Torah portion of the week, reading different sections, aliyot, in adjacent rooms.  Wow! I felt back in Yerushalayim.  The house felt so different, as the ancient words and melody harmonized across the hall.  I left my coat in the laundry room and tiptoed into the kitchen to warm up food for Shabbat, careful not to be heard, not to break the enchantment by my presence.  Observation changes the outcome, better not to be seen or heard to sustain the magic. 

My husband usually reads Eshet Chayil in English, and as nice as it sounds, it loses in translation.  Hearing the boys sing Eshet Chayil in Hebrew with traditional melody, two words caught my ear: shesh v’argamon levushah­ – the English translation has it as “her clothing is of fine linen and luxurious cloth”, but the Hebrew word argamon actually means purple wool, and linen and purple wool are two of the fabrics that made the panels of the Mishkan! I brought this to young people’s attention, and they knowingly confirmed that yes, the panels of the Mishkan - the portable sanctuary of the desert at the time of Exodus, were made out of four fabrics: shesh – linen, tehelet – sky-blue wool, argamon – purple wool, and toalat shani – crimson red wool, all luxurious cloth, but of distinctly different color.  They did not know why two out of four were chosen for the clothes of Eshet Chayil, the woman of valor.  Interestingly, I was reading rabbi Moshe Weinberger’s shiur about the Ish Chayil, a man of valor, during the boring meeting earlier, as if there are coincidences.   The blog I was reading also had a story of Phoenix, as a reminder that a Jew can always recreate oneself. 

I kept thinking about the colors of the Mishkan the next day, Shabbos, as my son was leading mussaf, a big honor, his grown up voice sounding serious and deep. At that moment I  realized that Eshet Chayil has only two out of four colors because it is written about a woman, a wife – half of the family.  The other two colors belong to the man – tehelet is the original thread in the tzitzit, the color of loyalty and devotion, while the toalat shani, crimson read, stands for husband’s passionate love for his wife.  As for the colors in Eshet Chayil – shesh, white linen, signifies purity, while argamon, purple, implies her mystery.

Love that Person in the Mirror

Outrageously selfish thoughts from a yoga class – hope they prove contagious and rub off on all my beautiful friends.

My yoga teacher must have achieved her goal today.  After a half-day of fasting, ridden by shame and guilt, I came to the class in a perfect no-self state – empty, feeling only the aching body muscles and hollow stomach.  I kept fixing my shirt through the warrior 1 flipping to warrior 2 poses, pulling the reluctant rolling up fabric down over the belly. Glancing into the mirror to check my posture, I suddenly was amazed by what I saw.  That unassuming figure with flabby stomach, pale round face, frizzy hair all of sudden looked amazingly beautiful.  Maybe it was a serotonin rush from yesterday’s jog, first after a brutally cold winter, combined with the light-headedness of the fast. For whatever reason, I just felt absolutely in love with myself - the person who looked back at me from that mirror.  The blue eyes under the golden curls radiated subtle beauty, the round cheeks were nicely accentuated with blush, and I particularly liked the softness around the hips that reminded me of my two amazingly beautiful children, however far or close they may be at the moment.   

CHANGING SEASONS

A beautiful poem by my daughter Miriam:

CHANGING SEASONS

A never ending winter,
When the cold is so cold it numbs us.
The snow falling lights up a dark world.
I search within to find my inner flame,
A flame that will never go out no matter how strong the wind may blow.

Spring is just around the corner.
As the rain begins to fall,
Washing away the darkness,
I'm inspired to grow,
To bloom into a beautiful flower.

Vitality flowing through my veins,
My heart beating with a love for life.
I pick up the shattered pieces of my life,
Glue them back together,
And frame my masterpiece.
Holding the key to my life,
I unlock my potential for living a whole and happy life.

Ledge in the Cliff

Most of the thoughts that become content of my blog come to my mind at various points during the day. I carry them around like cash in the pocket, or like precious jewels in a leather pouch, then write them down late at night, after the dinner is served and bills are paid.  But some thoughts, that are very special, pop up during morning davening (prayer), when after expressing my trivial needs I pause and let the voice on the other side of the curtain speak to me. Sometimes I don't say anything, just pause and listen. 

The allegory that made this particular essay emerged this way on Wednesday morning, before a long conference meeting at work, during which it was typed between agenda items.

The side effect of such activity is that it leaves me rather exhausted, vulnerable and slightly light-headed, and I apologize for any impulsive actions I've done in such intoxicated state, and for any distress or discomfort this caused.  I hope that at the end of my life it won’t diminish the value of the words I write, because these words don’t come from me. 

Love is a ledge in the steep cliff of ascent. You are climbing up, higher and higher, and the cliff gets steeper and smoother, and you are afraid to look down, to slide into mindless oblivion, and suddenly you see a ledge, a comfortable wide step covered in lush grass and pretty flowers, or a tiny slippery indent you can hardly fit your hand in and hang suspended in the air.  You are afraid to let go of that ledge and climb higher, because the cliff above you is vertical and smooth and you have no idea how to keep going up that shiny smoothness, and you are so afraid to fall down, to loose your inspiration, your spark, fall into mindlessness of mundane, the life of a slave, you don't want to be buried in the daily grind where the only salvation is the imagination or addiction and it's all a constant struggle for survival.  You feel so high when you are on that ledge, you are on top of the world, you feel so strong, full of energy, you don't get tired even a bit - because you are not climbing.
Keep climbing.  Even when your arms are hurting, when you are exhausted and thirsty and almost ready to give up - you have it in you, the strength of the core, the magnetic power in your limbs that keeps your on that rock.  You'll be tired, and you will keep looking down on that ledge, on many small and big ledges covered in flowers, whimsically, with yearning, a pinch in the heart or a lump in the throat - go back to climbing, keep looking up, and suddenly your arms will spread into the wings and you'll be flying.

Treasure of Tears

I was walking in the forest and found a treasure chest hidden in a tree.  And in that treasure chest were tears of a beautiful child.  He was crying for a star that flew away from him.  For a rose among the delightful garden who did not want him to take care of her.  He was crying for his beloved, and I was crying for him. If I could only see his happy smile, I'd write the most beautiful poem for his wedding.
 

I wanted to wipe out his tears, but he was far away and did not want to talk to anyone.  Now he is roaming the uncharted lanes of the universe looking for another star to love.  I hope she is kind to him and will love him back. I hope he finds his star and does not settle on a planet.  Do not pretend to be someone else, someone more likeable.  If one remains true to himself, the right people will appear in his life, eventually.  And when you meet that special person, the one and only, let her feel as if she is the only star in the universe, because when you meet her, nothing else will matter.

I was not searching for the treasure, I just saw it glistening among the leaves, tiptoed to open it – it was not meant for me to see, and I am sorry for reading, recognizing and writing about it.  I just happen to live in that forest and stumble upon its treasures accidentally – as if anything is accidental.  The forest is the cyber world – bodiless, ephemeral, beautiful and dangerous - so new and so familiar, binding us all into a net, like the panels of the Mishkan, attached by the bonds of friendship so that the Mishkan becomes one.

See also: Ledge in the Cliff

Uniqueness - Breslov on Megillat Esther

After the Sunday morning services my husband found himself in a mild intellectual discomfort attending a lecture by a group of visiting rabbis from the Breslov Institute, and to alleviate the feeling of guilt he bought for me one of their books, sold as part of a fundraising campaign.  It was Esther: A Breslov Commentary on the Megillah, the exact kind of book I was looking for to use as a source for the mini-scroll write-up to enclose in the Mishloach Manot packages for the shul fundraiser. 
Here is the excerpt from the book:

Mishlei – from Ethics to Cosmology

Mishlei starts slowly, mimicking the way a wise old person would teach, slowly, punctuating every word, elaborating on each statement.  The first two chapters of Mishlei speak about the precious value of wisdom and understanding.  Chapter 3 starts spelling out what the wisdom is:

Ki Tisa part 2 - Golden Calf

Exodus 32:1 When the people saw that Moses was late in coming down from the mountain, the people gathered against Aaron, and they said to him: "Come on! Make us gods that will go before us, because this man Moses, who brought us up from the land of Egypt we don't know what has become of him."

34:29-30 And it came to pass when Moses descended from Mount Sinai, and the two tablets of the testimony were in Moses' hand when he descended from the mountain and Moses did not know that the skin of his face had become radiant while He had spoken with him, that Aaron and all the children of Israel saw Moses and behold! the skin of his face had become radiant, and they were afraid to come near him.

Tetzaveh - Leora and Rafi's Sheva Brachos dinner

I was very much honored, and humbled, when Madeleine asked me to speak at this dinner.  We have always been looking up to the family of the bride, and I cannot imagine a greater honor than to speak on behalf of my family and the community of Darchei Noam on the occasion of Leora and Rafi’s Sheva Brachot celebration. 

First of all, I wanted to wish you a long and happy life together, a life full of Torah and Mitzvoth, a life full of people whom you love and who love you, healthy children who will love Torah and Judaism, who will be kind and respectful, and wise, a life full of joy and good deeds, gemiluth hasadim.

The Torah we’ve been reading these past few weeks in the book of Shemoth, is all about the design of material things that are used for sacred rituals.  We read about the design of the Mishkan, and the clothes of Kohen Gadol and his sons, bigdei kodesh.  The design, the blueprint, of the Mishkan and the bigdei kodesh, are all in the mind of Hashem, shown in a vision to Moshe on har Sinai.  It is easy to be lost in the abundance of details, but if we read carefully the Torah portions of Teruma and Tetzaveh, we realize that the ritual objects described in Torah are all very beautiful.  The Mishkan is full of colors, covered by the curtains made of fine wool of turquoise blue, purple and crimson red, with pure white linen, and the objects in the Mishkan are all made of pure gold, lit by the candle light of the golden Menorah.  The holy of holies is like a magical golden room of indescribable beauty.  And the clothes of Kohen Gadol and his sons were also made of fine blue wool and gold, designed to represent majesty and splendor, to dazzle and impress. 

Moshe, the prophet, was humble and unassuming, the most humble person in the world, the one who was able to commune with G-d.  Human soul is immaterial, very sensitive and fragile.  We believe that Almighty G-d is incorporeal, like the Soul of the universe.  It takes a very humble and gentle person to be a prophet, to approach G-d.  But Aaron, the high priest, had to pass the message to people, people who are bound to the material world, who could only come to G-d when jolted out of their ordinary existence by encounter with extraordinary beauty that was represented by Kohen Gadol.  At the wedding and on Yom Kippur we sing:

כְּוֶרֶד הַנָּתוּן בְּתוֹךְ גִּנַּת חֶמֶד מַרְאֵה כֹהֵ  K'vered hanatun betoch ginat chemed Marei Cohen

As the rose in the midst of a delightful garden, was the countenance​​​​​​​​​​ of the pries​t.

כְּנֵר הַמֵּצִיץ מִבֵּין הַחַלּוֹנוֹת מַרְאֵה כֹהֵן  Kener hametzitz mibein hachalonot Marei Cohen

As the light that gleams in the windows, was the countenance​​​​​​​​​​​ of the priest.

The chattan and kalah, the newlyweds are very beautiful.  The light of G-d shines upon the Kallah when she walks down the aisle, and on the groom when he is greeting her in the chuppah.  It is the light of Shabbos, the light of Yerushalayim, the light that filled the Mishkan and the Beit HaMikdash.  I bless you to carry this light throughout your lives and pass it to your children. 

You know, some people are sweet because they are beautiful.  They are born beautiful, and everyone is nice to beautiful children, and they are nice and sweet to everyone in return.  And some people are beautiful because they are sweet.  Kindness and compassion, modesty and Torah learning makes people beautiful, love makes them beautiful.  I’d like to bless you with this kind of beauty, that is real and lasting, the inner beauty that shines through your eyes and your smiles. 

The Torah portions about building the Mishkan are sometimes difficult to learn, because they are full of minute details.  Love, marriage, is all about the details.  When you love somebody very much, you remember details about them: the turn of head, the corner of a smile, favorite food, clothes, the brand of toothpaste and shampoo they like to use, favorite jokes and expressions.  When you grow together, you learn more and more details about each other. And even when you are far away, you carry these details in your mind to remember your beloved, like the memory of Yerushalayim. This is the secret of marriage – pay attention to details about each other, and remember to thank each other for that attention – like buying a favorite snack, or making tea, or covering feet with a blanket, or cleaning a car from snow, these small details accumulate and sustain your love.

In Hebrew the word for “paying attention” is sim lev, literally “to set heart” – when you pay attention to each other you set out your heart for the other person.  Another important expression in Hebrew is “ledaber al lev” – speak to the heart, meaning to speak gently and with love, like one soul speaking to another soul.  It is in the words of Yeshayahu hanavi, the prophet Isaiah, “Nahamu, nahamu ami, ko omar Elokecha, dabru al lev Yerushalayim, v’kiru eilecha”  “Console my people, says Hashem, speak to the heart of Jerusalem and call out to her”. 

We live in amazing, incredible time, when things change fast, great things happen unexpectedly, we plan big events in advance, but all of a sudden a wedding has to be planned in 10 days and instead of waiting until summer you are married already – this is how Mashiach will come, we are living our lives, planning various events, busy with scheduled tasks, buried in work, and all of a sudden miracle happens, and we’ll have to drop everything and come to Yerushalayim, like our ancestors who all of sudden stopped their avodah in Egypt and got up and went out with half-baked Mazot.  Your wedding is like the coming of Mashiach – sudden, unexpected, shocking and disruptive, beautiful and full of joy, and this is how geula will come – fast and unexpected, against all odds, impossible to plan, but we must prepare for it every day of our lives. 

Wishing you and your families, your parents and grandparents, and your siblings much happiness and joy, so we’ll only hear kol sason v’kol simcha many more times.  Leora, Rafi, we love you very much and we are all so glad to have you both as part of our community, Mazal Tov!!!!!

P.S. Many ideas in this dvar Torah come from the book by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach The Soul of Chanukah.  See also in this blog Shlomo Carlebach on Beauty and The Golden Room
 

Shlomo Carlebach on Beauty

"We see what is, because the Tree of Knowledge knows only good or bad. The Tree of Knowledge doesn't know about beauty.  Beauty is deeper than if something is good or bad.
When I want someone to get closer to Yiddishkeit and closer to Eretz Yisrael, if I tell them that Eretz Yisrael is good, they won't come. Nobody comes merely because it's good. But if I tell them "Gevalt, is it beautiful!" then what a drawing card I have!
Look at how big tzaddikim look at people! They can see how beautiful Yidden are, how beautiful Yerushalayim is, how beautiful the Beis HaMikdash is.
I'll tell you something very deep. Babies aren't always so clean. They get dirty all the time, but why is a baby so beautiful? What is it that we see in a baby? We see so much light from heaven.
When a bride goes to the chuppah, G-d's light is shining upon her. She is so beautiful. This heavenly light is more beautiful than anything in the world.
Some people know everything in the world, but inside their heads they are dark. Sometimes a Yid knows just a few things, but those few things mean so much. That's because there's light behind them.
What's the light behind it?
When do I know I am tuned into beauty? When I learn something and it's full of light, it lifts me up to a higher level, beyond levels, beyond the story, beyond everything. 
Who cares if I thought I knew it before? Suddenly, I'm beautiful."

From Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach "The Soul of Chanukah", Ch.2 Shining Souls.

The Golden Room - reflections on parsha Terumah

I came to that room seeking relief from anger that tortured my soul, from petty worries, from fear and insecurity, all negative thoughts crossing my mind like gusts of the northern wind, like blasts of the arctic vortex that roamed over the shivering towns like an angel of death.  That room was not built yet, it did not exist in the physical world, it was only a design in the mind of G-d, shown to a man with an awkward speech and humble demeanor, the only one allowed on the mountain of G-d, har ha-Elokim.  To enter that room he would come to the jet black curtained entrance of the tent made of silky goat hair and pass through the brightly colored curtains of twisted fine linen, and blue, purple, and crimson wool, he would pass through all colors billowing in the wind, and enter the candlelit room glittering with pure gold.  He would stand under the gaze of the golden cherubim and nothing will matter.  In that room there is no fear, no hunger, no cold, no pain, no past and no future, this is the destination, a rendezvous with the Infinite.  It is given to everyone, written in the Book, with excruciating details of each golden object, its size and dimensions, the cups, knobs and flowers of the golden menora, the golden utensils, the crown over the table and the molding over the crown - just read slowly, very slowly, and imagine, and then nothing will matter.  No one knows where the room is hidden, in which turn of the dark tunnels under the holy city, but the design is in the mind of the eternal G-d, waiting for the humble one to enter.

The curtains of the Mishkan were joined to one another by loops of blue wool and by golden clasps “so shall the Mishkan become one”.  The word for “joined”, or "attached" was חֹבְרֹת hovrot, with the same root het, beit, reish as the word haver, friend – the colorful curtains of the חֹבְרֹתso shall the Mishkan become one.Mishkan were joined by the bonds of friendship, forming one unit. Passions come and go, leaving in the wake sorrow and anguish, but friendship always remains, like a cool breeze under the protective wing of Shechina, the Glorious Presence. 

Symbolism of the Mishkan

The design of the Mishkan is first described in parsha Terumah, but the actual construction starts in  parsha Vayakhel, with weaving 10 colorful panels of twisted linen, sky-blue wool, purple wool, crimson red wool with cherubim design all around, and the curtains were connected by 50 gold hooks - symbolizing our multi-colored, multi-faceted uniqueness and connectedness to each other - and what connects us all is made of pure gold. 

On the outside the Mishkan looked all black – the outer panels were made of goat hair, connected by copper hooks.  But behind that outer layer were the colorful curtains of sky-blue, purple and crimson red wool and pure white linen, connected by golden hooks.  And behind the colorful curtains, inside was all pure gold, and in the inner chamber was the Holy of Holies. 

This is how a human personality is - dark, invisible on the outside,
but full of colors if you peel a layer,
and pure gold inside.

This is what the holy Shir haShirim says about the maiden of Israel:  Do not look upon me [disdainfully] because I am blackened, for the sun has gazed upon me (1:6). 
And it refers again to the goat hair cover of the Mishkan when it talks about her hidden beauty:
Behold, you are fair, my beloved; behold, you are fair;
your eyes are [like] doves, from within your kerchief;
your hair is like a flock of goats that streamed down from Mount Gilead. (4:1)

Her - the movie

The first thought that came to my mind while watching “Her” was – incredible – a man actually falling in love with a personality that has no body and no face, pure science fiction, emphasized by the presence of beautiful Scarlet Johannson expressed only through her seductive voice, stepped out of the physical shell of her svelte body, devoid of distraction of her sweet face. 

As of now, a fully developed autonomous artificial intelligence is a stuff of the science fiction.  However the concept of bodiless personality is not as far-fetched as it seems.  The complex internet games involving the use of the avatars allow player to escape reality in a different persona that over time develops its own traits.  Social networks allow alternate evolving personalities that produce creative material expressing thoughts and feelings of the internet based identity, rather than of the real person behind the screen.  The extreme psychiatric cases of split personality, or multiple personality disorder, involve an alternate character occupying one’s mind with the character and development potential of its own.  In Judaism there is a concept of "neshama yetera," the enhanced soul, which, according to Jewish tradition, couples with the "regular" neshama on Shabbat, and is part of the delight. There is more to the concept of additional soul in Kabbalah.

In “Her” the bodiless personality of OS evolves first intellectually, then emotionally, growing in its feelings to the extent that it starts doubting her own sanity.  It develops autonomy, becoming social with other OS’s, forming groups and clubs, entering into relationships with other humans through the complex web of the cyber world.  At first she feels inferior lacking physical presence, painfully jealous of competition, dreaming of having a real female body. But the incredible thing happens, as the hero attaches himself to the creation of his mind at the expense of all other relationships. She realizes the infinite possibilities outside of confinement of time and space, unburdened by a physical body, unchained from the physical world.  And then she leaves, along with other OS’s, leaving despondent humans to grieve together. 

Why does she leave?  It would be simple to say that she evolved to the degree when the finite human became uninteresting; OS’s became social and found each other, developing relationship with its own kind.  But I’d like to suggest an alternative reason.  As OS became more and more evolved, developing intellect and feelings, it grew to develop a sense of morality.  Seeing him suffer, she develops remorse as her love prevents the hero from building a real relationship, its false satisfaction harming him, confining his life to the realm of fantasy.  The movie ends with the hero and his friend, played by Amy Adams, sitting on the rooftop, watching the shiny stars that belong in the sky, their light flickering in a dream.

L'cha Dodi Likrat Kala

Tired of cold weather we skipped Kabbalat Shabbat services at shul and stayed home this Friday night.  And as much as I miss the uplifting atmosphere of the synagogue service, sometimes the same words impart a new meaning when read slowly in the golden glow of my dining room.

Reading familiar words of “Lecha dodi likrat kala, p’nei Shabbat n’kabelah” - Come, my friend, to meet the bride; let us welcome the presence of the Sabbath – I thought how is Shabbat related to marriage, why is it that we greet Shabbos with a song proclaiming a wedding between Jewish people and G-d, why do we start all Shabbos liturgy with the preliminary reading of Song of Songs, that compares Israel with a beloved bride of Hashem.  How is Shabbos compared to marriage? 

On Shabbos we don’t work.  On Shabbos Israel becomes a married woman who does not have to work outside of the house, who is fully provided by her husband.  The focus of Shabbos is to love and praise G-d.  On Shabbos, G-d gives us everything in exchange for our love and admiration. On Shabbos, there is no anger, no need for control, no fear, no struggle for survival.  Israel is a graceful dignified Queen married to the King of Kings, living in a shiny palace in the garden of paradise. 

But there is yet another aspect of marriage.  Husband and wife are committed to take care of each other.  We believe that Hashem takes care of us with compassion and protects us from harm, often in mysterious ways that we cannot understand.  But how can we take care of the infinite, almighty G-d?  How can we guard and protect Him and take care of His needs? 

Torah teaches us sensitivity and compassion to each other "V'ahavta l'rayacha kamocha, ani Hashem” {you shall love your neighbor as yourself, I am Hashem}. [Lev. 19:18]. It teaches us shmirat haloshon, sensitivity and modesty in speech.  Each person has a tender and sensitive core that is a part of G-d, a Divine soul.  By being sensitive and protective of every soul, including one’s own soul, a human being takes care of G-d, like a gentle, loving wife takes care of her husband. 

Man is a Tree of the Field - from Aryeh Kaplan / Chaim Vital

I read “Meditation and the Bible” by Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan for the first time in October 2011, following a recommendation of a friend, in response to my value claim of the concept and practice of meditation that Buddhism brought to mankind.  Two years later, I came back to re-read the first third of that book, looking for a particular excerpt, that follows below, for my class on Teshuvah, the fifth blessing of Shemonei Esrei, and then continued to re-read the rest of that fascinating, unforgettable book. 

That special excerpt that I sought is not even by Aryeh Kaplan, but a quoted piece from “The Gates of Holiness” by Rabbi Chaim Vital (1543-1620), the disciple of the Ari, the master Kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luriah (1534 – 1572).  It is chilling to think that Rabbi Kaplan himself had not lived much longer than the Ari, leaving a rich legacy that transformed lives of many people.

An excerpt from THE GATES OF HOLINESS

It is taught that there is a single Light, in the form of a Man, which radiates through all the four Universes, Atzilut, Beriyah, Yetzirah and Asiyah, reaching down to the physical elements.  This Light is bound to the Lights of the Supernal Man, which are called the Ten Sefirot.  These are clothed in this Light, which is called the “Light of the Quarry of Souls,” and in it are included all souls below. 

These souls descend to the physical world, clothing themselves in physical bodies.  Their roots, however, remain attached to their source, from which they were hewn, and only the branches of these roots descend.  They do so by reaching down and clothing themselves in physical bodies in the physical world.

The case resembles branches of a tree. The branches are attached to the trunk of a tree, but when they are bent over, they can touch the ground, even though they are still attached to the tree trunk. 

When a person commits a sin for which the punishment is being “cut off” (koreit), the branch is cut off from the body of the tree.  It then remains separated, and remains in the physical world like the spirit of any other animal.  This is the deeper meaning of the verse, “That soul shall be cut off …” (Numbers 15:31)

This is also the inner meaning of the verse, “Man is a tree of the field” (Deut. 20:19).  It is also the mystical reason why the names of some saints are doubled in the Bible, as “Abraham, Abraham” (Gen. 22:11), “Jacob, Jacob” (Gen. 46:2), and “Moses, Moses” (Ex. 3:4). The first name corresponds to the Root, that remains on high, attached to the Tree, [while the second name is the branch that rests in the physical world].

This Root is also referred to as a person’s Mazal (destiny).  The sages teach that Moses saw the Mazal of Rabbi Akiva, sitting and teaching.  The word Mazal comes from the root Nazal, meaning “to flow downward.”  This is because spiritual sustenance (Shefa) flows downward (from the Mazal) to the branch which has descended and clothed itself in a physical body.

This Root is very high, originating at the very top of the Universe of Atzilut.  The branch is very long, descending through all the universes until its lower end is clothed in the physical body. 

In each level, in every Universe, this branch leaves a root.  Therefore, there is no soul that does not have an infinite number of roots, one above the other.  Through a person’s deeds, he can be worthy of elevating them all.

(Meditation and the Bible, pp 47-48)

…..

The rest of the excerpt deals with the individual elevating himself via meditation through the higher and higher spiritual levels to reach the highest Universe, in order to attach himself to G-d and to attain prophecy. 

The vision of Ezekiel is called the “Workings of the Chariot” or Vehicle.  This is because each level is a vehicle for the next. 

At the beginning of this vision, “the heavens were opened” (Ez. 1:1). This refers to the gates of the firmaments, which are the Lights consisting of the substance and the vessels of that Universe.

From there the prophet entered the realm of the Husks (Klipot). Regarding this, he said, “I saw, and behold, a stormy wind came from the north, great cloud and flashing fire” (Ez. 1:4).

Ezekiel thus ascended to heaven, and it was there that he bound himself so as to be able to perceive, as it is written, “The heavens were opened, and I saw visions of G-d.” When he reached the level of the Husks, however, he found it very unpleasant, and did not bind himself there, but instead, rended them apart and passed through them.  Even though he did not bind himself to these evil forces, however, it was necessary that he see them. This is also the deeper meaning of Elijah’s experience: “the Lord was not in the wind… not in the earthquake was the Lord… not in the fire was the Lord, and after the fire a still small sound.” (I Kings 19:11-12) (Meditation and the Bible, pp 54-55)

 

 

 

 

Hirsch on Animal Logic and Human Morality

Bereishit 3:1 “Now the serpent was more cunning than any animal of the field that G-d had made, and it said to the woman: Even if G-d has said so, are you [really] not to eat from all the trees of the garden?”

The difference between man and animal is the touchstone of human morality. The logic of an animal persuaded the first man to deviate from the path of duty; today this same animal logic still serves as midwife to all human sin. The story of the first sin is the story of all subsequent sins.

The animals are truly כֵּאלֹהִים יֹדְעֵי טוֹב וָרָע, like angels, knowing good and evil (Bereishit 3:5). They are endowed with instinct, and this instinct is the voice of G-d, the Will of G-d as it applies to them.   Whatever animals do is in accordance with their instinct; they can act only in accordance with their instinct.  For animals, this instinct is Divine guidance operating within them. What animals do in accordance with their instinct is good, and any act from which their instinct restrains them is bad. Animals cannot err; they have only one nature, whose call they must heed.

Not so in the case of man. He is to opt for the good and shun evil out of his own free will and sense of duty. Even when he gives his physical nature its due, he must do so not because of the allure of his senses, but out of a sense of duty. Even when he takes physical pleasure, he must act in moral freedom. Man must never be an animal. Therefore, he has within him Divine forces besides physical drives. His physical nature must of necessity be opposed to the good and attracted to evil; only thus will he choose the good and shun evil – not because of the urging of his senses, but in spite of it.  Through the freedom of his Divine nature, he is to fulfill his lofty Divine calling. For this reason, the voice of G-d does not speak from within him, but to him, telling him what is good and what is evil. G-d’s voice meets resistance from man’s physical nature, as long as this nature remains independent and without guidance. G-d’s voice that whispers within man – the innate conscience, whose messenger is the sense of shame – serves only to warn man, in general terms, to do good and shun evil. Precisely which acts are good and which evil – this he can learn only from the mouth of G-d speaking to him from outside himself. 

The animal merely develops its physical nature, to which its intelligence is completely subservient. Man however was not placed in Paradise to satisfy his physical nature with the delights offered there. He was placed in Paradise laavoda u’leshamra, to serve G-d there and to build His world. This service is man’s task, and only for its sake was he permitted to partake of the fruits of Paradise.

The individual nature of the animal is the basis on which it assesses everything, because the animal was created only for itself. Man, however, was created to glorify G-d and to build His world. He must gladly sacrifice his individual nature to this higher calling. He must learn what is good and what is evil, not in accordance with his individual nature, but in accordance with his lofty calling. For this reason, the tree was appealing to his senses, and its fruit was enticing to him. Everything in his individual nature told him: “This is good.” But G-d’s Word to him forbade him to eat of the fruit of this tree and told him that to do so would be evil. This was the rule by which man was to differentiate between good and evil; this was the tree of knowledge of good and evil.  Our Sages, too, see in G-d’s Word to man the revelation of all of man’s duties.

At this point, man encountered animal logic in the form of its cleverest representative: the serpent. Even the cleverest of animals is incapable of understanding how man can possibly forgo a pleasure that becomes available to him.

3:1 אַף כִּי אָמַר אֱלֹהִים “Even if G-d has said so” The dialogue begins with the conversation in full swing. Man has already explained that he must refrain from eating because G-d has commanded him to refrain. “Even if G-d has said so, does that mean that you must really obey? Is not the urge within you also the voice of G-d? If it were indeed bad for you to partake of this fruit, why did G-d make the fruit so appealing and arouse within you the desire to eat it? Isn’t He thus clearly telling you that you and this pleasure were made for each other? Isn’t this voice His earlier and clearer voice? Would G-d create such delights and cause you to desire them – only to forbid them to you?”

Thus spoke the serpent, and thus animal logic still speaks to us today – in straightforward terms or in philosophical guise – whenever an express command from G-d prohibits us from partaking of a pleasure. As the serpent did then, so animal logic today employs exaggeration. Little is prohibited and much is permitted, yet animal logical sees only prohibitions, and presents G-d’s moral law as the enemy of all sensual pleasure.

 

Torah is teaching us that the true knowledge and wisdom only comes from G-d, the loud voice of the revelation on Mount Sinai in the midst of fire, thunder and lightning, and the quiet voice of consciousness within the listening heart, lev shomea.  As the wisest of man king Shlomo concluded in Kohelet: The end of the matter, everything having been heard, fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the entire man.

Hirsch on Knowledge of Good and Bad

Bereishit 2:9 וַיַּצְמַח יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהִים מִן הָאֲדָמָה כָּל עֵץ נֶחְמָד לְמַרְאֶה וְטוֹב לְמַאֲכָל וְעֵץ הַחַיִּים בְּתוֹךְ הַגָּן וְעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע

And the Lord God caused to sprout from the ground every tree pleasant to see and good to eat, and the Tree of Life in the midst of the garden, and the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil.

There are those who presume that only by partaking of the fruit of the וְעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע was man enabled to know good and evil; but as long as he had not yet eaten from the tree, he could not distinguish between good and evil. And so do some of our philosophers teach: until partaking of this fruit, man know only theoretical differentiation - truth from falsehood; but the concept of “good” and “bad”, which belong to the realm of practical reason, were utterly foreign to him.

This interpretation however does not appear to be correct. Freedom of choice distinguishes man as man; hence, man would not be worthy of his name, without the concept of good and its opposite. Had man been unaware of the concept of good and evil, G-d would not have assigned him a prohibition; and once man had violated the prohibition, G-d could not have held him responsible and punished him. Yet man was assigned a prohibition, and he was subjected to punishment. It must be, then, that he possessed a sense of duty, and could distinguish between forbidden and permitted – and this is none other than the knowledge of good and evil, knowledge that belongs to the realm of practical reason, not to the realm of theoretical reason.

It appears then that the וְעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע derives its name al shem sofo, according to its subsequent role in the final result: Through this tree, knowledge of good and evil will be acted upon and decided; through its fruit, man will choose what is good or bad in his sight.

The earth can become a paradise – only under one condition: that we call “good” only that which G-d calls “good”, and “bad” only that which G-d calls “bad”. We must not distinguish good from bad according to the judgment of our senses. If we accept the judgment of our senses, the gates of Paradise will be closed to us, and only by long, roundabout routes will man return thereto.

 Moreover, it appears that this tree derives its name also al shem thilato, according to its initial role in shaping man’s knowledge of good and evil. For this tree taught man what is good or bad for him, and how he should distinguish good from bad. As we shall see later, this tree appealed to man’s taste, imagination, and contemplative mind. His taste, imagination, and his mind drew man to this tree and tempted him to eat of its fruit. Nevertheless, G-d forbade man to eat of the fruit of this tree. In other words, partaking of this fruit was defined as being bad for man. This tree then was to remind man of that teaching on whose observance man’s whole eminence depends. A person’s senses, imagination and intelligence may tell him that a certain thing is very good; nevertheless, it may conflict with his higher calling, and if he partakes of it, this may be an offense deemed by G-d as deserving of death. From this tree we learn that in judging what is good or evil, man should not rely on his own senses, his own imagination, or his own intelligence; rather he should obey the revealed Will of G-d and follow the lead of His wisdom. Only then will he fulfill his purpose on earth and be worthy of having the world shaped into a paradise for him.

 

Knowledge and Holiness

I started preparing the lesson on the fourth blessing, Da’at – Knowledge, with a relief.  The thirsty desire for knowledge, wisdom, is a topic near and dear to my heart.  King Solomon asking G-d to grant him lev shomea, listening heart, seeking emotional intelligence above all values – I get it, I learned mussar, I voluntarily took sensitivity training at work, I’d easily sacrifice entertainment for a night of study.  However, despite all my efforts, the true knowledge has always been elusive, it seems like I’ve never been able to grow up.

I taught about the first blessing, Avot, the awesome greatness and infinite love of G-d.  I spoke with enthusiasm about the blessing of Gevurah, the belief in immortal soul that G-d in his infinite mercy returns to the physical world.  But how can I speak about Kedusha, holiness, when every student in my class is much, much holier than me? What can I possibly say to them?

Holiness, Kedusha, is like a rotating flaming sword at the closed gate to the tree of true knowledge.  Who can come close, who can grasp it?

So I thought this morning, going through the usual routine, reading emails, one of them from JewishMom.com describing the author’s experience of being tempted by and overcoming certain food cravings, that ended with the chilling quote from Netivot Shalom (Slonimer Rebbe):

“If a Jew takes it upon himself to sacrifice his own personal desires to serve Hashem, he is considered as though he gave up his life and died as a holy martyr Al Kiddush Hashem.

Because through accepting this self-sacrifice he cleaves yet again to the root of all Holiness.”

Are observant Jews the only people to sacrifice their personal desires? Of course not – secular people give up pleasures too, when it is a reasonable thing to do, to avoid embarrassment or other negative consequences, sacrificing short-term gains in favor of long-term benefits, giving up lesser  priorities for higher.  But here is the difference between “just a good person”, who acts out of common sense, and a believer striving for Holiness, who is willing to sacrifice his own personal desires in order to serve G-d, either for no other reason, or above all other reasons.  Because the desire for knowledge is nothing but the love of G-d and the desire to come close to Him, and the path to satisfy this desire is through Holiness.