The other day I was driving and I saw a man asking for money with a sign that read, “I have three toes- please help.” For an instant, my heart twinged with compassion. But that was immediately followed by a disorienting surprise as I reconsidered his sign.
He needs money because he has three toes? I immediately thought of Aimee Mullins. Aimee Mullins had both legs amputated when she was one year old. Rather than adopt the identity of a disabled person, she became a star athlete, a model and an inspirational speaker who empowers her listeners to transcend limited thinking and limited identity. I don’t mean to be un-compassionate to the man with three toes who needed some money, or to imply that it’s no big deal to lose a part of your body. I want to bless that man that he should have relief from any suffering caused by his body or anything else, and that we all be relieved of the suffering that comes to us from physical or any other limitations. But the real disability, as Aimee Mullins and countless others have demonstrated, is not in how many toes or legs you have, but how imprisoned you are by your thoughts. If you narrate your life in negative terms, telling yourself sad stories of victimhood, then that will be the lens through which you live, and that is what will seem to manifest. On the other hand, if you refuse to accept limiting labels that others put on you, if you refuse to identify at all with negative stories, is there any fixed limit to what you can accomplish? In this week’s reading, Parshat Sh’mini, the Torah narrates the climax of the inauguration ceremony for the priests. Moses tells the Israelites that after the various offerings are brought, “Hayom Hashem nir’ah aleikhem- today Hashem will appear to you!” The offerings are brought, the rites performed, and it happens- “vayeira kh’vod Hashem el ha’am- the glory of the Divine appeared to the entire people!” Then something tragic happens: in the ecstasy of the moment, the high priest Aaron’s two sons, Nadav and Avihu, break ranks and rush forward to offer their own incense. A fire streams forth from the Divine and kills them. Moses tells Aaron that Hashem is sanctified and honored by their death. Of Aaron it says, “vayidom Aharon- Aaron was silent.” There is a story of the Hassidic master Reb Menachem Mendel of Kotsk, the Kotsker Rebbe. One day, the son-in-law of Reb Shlomo of Radomsk was visiting him. The Kotsker asked his guest to please tell some Torah from his saintly father-in-law, to which he replied with this teaching: “When Aaron lost his two sons, the Torah records his praise, saying, ‘vayidom Aharon- Aaron was silent,’ because he was able to accept his misfortune with equanimity and not become a victim. But King David surpassed him and reached an even higher level, as he says in the psalm, ‘l’man y’zamerkha khavod v’lo yidom- so that I may sing of Your glory and not be silent’- for even in times of great distress he would still sing God’s praises.” I can’t and don’t want to imagine the suffering that Aaron and Kind David went through in their lives. But this extreme teaching is pointing to something that is true for all of us- that your mind has the power to define what kind of reality you live in. It also hints at the two basic practices for learning to use your mind. The silence of Aaron hints at meditation. Through meditation, you learn to free your mind from all the thought forms that tend to imprison most people to some degree. The praise of David indicates prayer. In prayer, the sacred dimension that is revealed in meditation is given expression. These two basic practices- meditation and prayer- tap into the sacred dimension and draw forth Its nourishment into expression. The name of this parshah, “Sh’mini”, means “eighth”, in reference to the eighth day of the ceremony on which the action takes place. The number eight symbolizes infinity, both in its Arabic shape and in its Hebrew meaning as the number that transcends seven, which is the number of finite creation. One of the names of God in Kabbalah is Ayn sof, which also means Infinite- literally “there is no limitation”. Thus, the Infinite appears to the Israelites on the day of infinity. And when is the “day of infinity” as it applies to each of us? “Hayom Hashem nir’ah aleikhem- today Hashem will appear to you!” Today, of course, means now. In the subsiding of thought, there is the subsiding of time. In the subsiding of time, there is the blossoming of the only Reality there is- the Reality of this moment, the one and only moment. This moment is not fixed. Ever changing, it is Ayn sof, without limit, unbound by past and future. How will you co-create this moment? Will you be its victim? Or, in the silent depth of your being, will the voice of God emerge through your voice to praise Its own Mystery and Potential?
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Which is more important- intention or action?
Once there was a child who was asked by her parents to bring food to some hungry guests beloved to the parents. While she prepared the food, she accidentally cut herself with a knife and was in much pain. When she delivered the food, she was in a bad mood and felt resentful. She put the food before the guests and went away without any nice words. Another time, her brother was asked to give food to some guests. He was really excited about going outside to play, so he figured he wouldn’t bother making the food, and instead just cheerfully delivered the message- “My parents send their blessings to you! They love you so much!” Then he left to go play outside. Obviously, the ideal would be for the children to deliver both the food and the message of love. But, if they will only deliver one or the other, which is best? Obviously, if the guests are really hungry for food, the food is best. Why? Not only is the food what they really need, but the food actually is the true message of love. It is because the parents love the guests that they want to send the food. The love is embodied in the food. If the children can also be messengers of love, expressing loving words when they deliver the food, all the better. But if not, the food is the true message from the parents. The children don’t have to feel it. They just have to be the messenger. We are like the children. The most important thing is for us to be “G-d’s messengers” by doing right action- action that serves the moment we are in, regardless of whether we are truly “feeling it”. On the other hand, the classic Hassidic text called the "Tanya" says that even though right action is the most important thing, our acts of service (mitzvot) are not really alive unless they are done with kavanah- right intention. Kavanah consists of two opposing qualities- fear (yirah) and love (ahavah). Love is easy to understand. Love sends the food. But fear? Why would we want to be fearful? When I was in second or third grade, I was in a theater camp. There was a class I really wanted to take with a certain teacher. When I got to class, he said I wasn’t on the list, so he sent me to the front desk to make sure I was signed up. I went to the front desk and found out that I was signed up. I was so happy that I barged back into the class, totally interrupting the teacher and pissing him off. He snapped at me in a nasty way, and I was in shock, because I loved him and the class so much. What was the problem? Love without fear! Fear in the spiritual sense, yirah, doesn’t mean a kind of neurotic terror or worry. It means respect. In means having the awareness to know how to honor the moment; it means to know how you are affecting the situation. This kind of spiritual fear is actually an expression of love. It is love expressed as restraint. In fact, if the girl in the above story had more of this kind of fear, she could have avoided cutting herself with the knife. Then she would have expressed the love too. The Tanya explains that fear and love are like two wings of a bird. The bird cannot fly with only one wing! It must have both. In fact, fear and love are not really separate at all. They are both expressions of the same quality of wakefulness. As you bring your awareness to fully meet this moment, there is a natural sense of care and respect that arises, as well as a quality of love and bliss. Fear and love are the right and left hands of awareness itself. This Saturday night we move from this week of Hesed- Loving-Kindness, into the week of Gevurah- Fear, Strength and Restraint. As it says in the traditional formula before counting the Omer, “Bidhilu orhimu- with fear and love- to unify the Divine Name.” The Divine name is unified through you, in this moment, as you give full attention to this moment of Being unfolding. May we be awake to activate all the middot- love and fear, ambition and humility, envisioning and working toward what could be, while trusting what is. Moadim L’simkha- good times! In the days of the Baal Shem Tov, it once happened at the conclusion of Yom Kippur that the sky was particularly cloudy. The moon was completely obscured, preventing the Baal Shem from making the blessing on the new moon as is traditionally chanted after Yom Kippur. The Baal Shem sensed that the welfare of his people somehow depended on his making the Kiddush Levana- the sanctification of the moon, that night. Anxiously he stood beneath the night sky, concentrating his mind to cause the clouds to disperse, but with no success. Sunk in gloom, he eventually gave up and retired to his room. His disciples, however, knew nothing of the Baal Shem’s sadness and had begun to dance around the house in ecstatic celebration. Eventually their revelry burst through the door into the Baal Shem’s room. In their mad ecstasy they took him by the hand and drew him into the dance. Later the Baal Shem noticed- the sky had cleared and the crescent moon beamed brightly. The Baal Shem made the blessing and averted the danger. At first glance, you might think that this story is about the power of joy and community- about how the master needed the innocent enthusiasm of his disciples to cheer him up, which then miraculously cleared the clouds from the sky. A fine and valid interpretation! But another way of seeing the story reveals a unity between all the different elements- the Baal Shem’s experience of the darkness, the joy of the disciples and the revelation of the moon are all parts of one happening. The point is not the disciples cheering him up; the point is the way in which he relates to the darkness. If you want true freedom, if you want to leave Egypt for good, you need to have a constant and unconditional commitment to being conscious. Meditation and prayer are only one part of the practice- the rest happens in the flow of life, in real time. Every part of life must be brought into the arena of practicing awareness. In order to understand how to do this, it can be useful to divide your life experience into three categories. The first involves moments when challenges come into your life from things you are committed to. For example, you might have challenges with work or children or relationships. In those moments, you must remain conscious that this is the arena of practice. Be committed to not letting the negativity take over your mind, creating pessimistic, complaining or blaming stories. Know that you have the power to completely be with the unpleasantness and that ultimately it can’t hurt you. It will certainly pass. Then, deal with the situation from that place. The second involves negativity that comes into your life from things you are not committed to. For example, someone cuts you off on the road or someone insults you. Or, it could be negativity from your own mind. Regardless of the source, if you are not committed to the relationship, eject it from your mind completely. Don’t waste a second struggling against the annoying co-worker or the bad driver. Be with whatever feelings arise, but let go of any thoughts that keep those feelings alive. Even better- make a blessing for those who bother you. If possible and appropriate, take action. Even a smile can transform some situations. The third involves the “empty” or “neutral” moments. When you are walking from one place to another, eating, driving and so on, there is no inherent content and the mind often wanders. Those times are such precious gifts because it’s not so difficult to be awake in those moments. Identify those moments- be aware of how they come in your day. When you brush your teeth, make your tea, whatever; use your mind on purpose. And that means either one of two things: either focus your thinking in an intentional way, or let go of your thinking and simply be present with whatever is happening. Focused thinking can be contemplation on either spiritual or practical things. It can be solving a problem or thinking a prayer of gratitude. Presence means knowing you are not your thinking. It means putting aside your thinking and simply being. Finally, take some time every day to step out of the flow of life. In order to practice in the three types of life experience, it is vital to separate from them to do your daily avodah- spiritual work. The vital elements of avodah are also three- meditation (quiet presence, just being with Being), prayer (expression of your heart toward Being) and contemplation or learning (like what you are doing right now as you read this). There is a hint of these three life situations in the avodah that is described in this week’s reading. Parshat Tzav begins with a description of the Olah- the “elevation” offering that the priests are to perform. It says that the “olah al mokdah… kol halailah ad haboker- the elevation offering should stay on the flame all night until morning.” In order to be “elevated”, you must remain alert the whole time you are experiencing something challenging or negative. Don’t become unconscious! Keep the flame burning all night long. This corresponds to being awake as you deal with challenges in things you are committed to, such as relationships and work. In our opening story, this is when the Baal Shem tries his best to disperse the clouds, and then eventually retires to his room to fully be with his sadness. Then it says the Kohen- the priest- must take the ashes of the offering and remove them to a place outside the camp. In other words, after you have burned through the negativity, completely let go of it. Don’t keep it alive by creating mental stories about it! Get it out of your space. This corresponds to negativity from things you are not committed to. Don’t waste your energy on things that don’t matter! This is when the Baal Shem lets go of the sadness and joins in the dance. Then it says that the Kohen should kindle wood on the altar in the morning as well. The fire is an “aish tamid- a continual flame- lo tikhbeh- it should never be extinguished.” In other words, after the challenge is over and life has become neutral again, you should still remain conscious. Don’t just try to get conscious when things are challenging! This corresponds to the many neutral moments that comprise much of our lives. It’s easy to be awake in those moments- don’t take them for granted! This is when the Baal Shem makes his blessing on the moon. The moon, waxing and waning, sometimes visible and sometimes not, represents the up and down flow of the every day. Sanctify the ordinary- as it says, “when you lie down and when you get up”. On this Shabbat HaGadol- the Great Sabbath preceding our festival of liberation, may we all grow in our constant practice of being conscious and sanctifying every moment of this precious existence. Good Shabbos! Many of my favorite television memories from the 70’s come from the early Sesame Street shows. I remember one episode where Grover is straining to hold a really big, heavy brick with the word “HELP” carved into it. As he moans and groans trying not to drop the brick, he keeps yelling, “Help! Help!”
The great trickster Ernie walks up and says, “Oh, Grover, you need some help? I’ve got some help for you, hold on just a minute.” He bends down and picks up another big heavy brick, also with the word “HELP” carved into it, and piles it on top of the first brick, increasing his burden. “Help! Help!” Grover yells louder. “Oh, you want more help??” says Ernie. Ernie then picks up yet another big heavy “HELP” brick and piles it on top of the two that Grover is already holding. This goes on a few more times- Grover yelling help and Ernie just making it worse and worse by piling on more and more HELP bricks. Finally, Grover just screams and falls backward, all the bricks falling on top of him. Ingenious. My three-year-old daughter likes to help a lot. She is always asking, “Can I help?” Sometimes she “helps” me cook in the kitchen. The “help” usually entails holding my wrist while I stir something in a hot pan, or holding my arm while I lift something much too heavy and dangerous for her to lift. Actually, everything we do is just like that. We go through motions, thinking “I am doing such-and-such,” but actually the act is being done by the All and we are only apparently doing it. It’s like when a bunch of guys are lifting some big heavy couch and you put your hands underneath to appear as if you are helping, but you are actually doing nothing. That’s our true situation. When you turn on the car, is it the key that is doing the job? Is it the starter? Is it the spark plug? There is no single thing doing anything; everything is doing everything all the time. Yet you might think, “I am doing it”. You might take the burden of being the Doer onto yourself. Like my daughter, “you” are doing nothing, because there is no separate “you” as the Doer. But like Grover, you might strain and moan under the burden of life, yelling, “Help! Help!” And as long as you see yourself as the Doer, any help you get is like Ernie’s help. You don’t need that kind of help! You just need to drop the burden. But you can’t “try” to drop the burden. That’s just more burden! That’s Ernie’s kind of help. The “me” that tries to drop the burden is itself the burden. To drop the burden, you just need to see that you are straining unnecessarily. If you can see it, you spontaneously stop doing it. Seeing that the trying is itself a kind of straining, you just stop. You just accept everything, and you are free. Don’t “try” to get rid of anything, don’t “try” to change anything; that changes everything! Rather than trying to escape the experience you are having in this moment, draw close to it. Your willingness to be with What Is becomes your avodah- your Divine service. It becomes your offering on the altar of the present moment. The word for “offering”, in the sense of ritual sacrifice, is korban- from the root koof-reish-bet which means to “draw close”. This week’s reading says that in bringing a korban offering, one should bring it “el petakh ohel mo’ed- to the opening of the Tent of Meeting- yakriv oto lirtzono- bring it willingly.” The “Tent of Meeting” is the place we meet Reality. Where is that? It is always only where you are. You can’t “go” to the Tent of Meeting because you are already here! But you can come close to where you already are with willingness- “yakriv oto lirtzono- draw close willingly.” Draw your attention willingly into the fullness of this moment. Don’t hold it as a burden that you need to change or control; offer yourself to it. That is the key. There is a hint of this also in the next verse- “v’samakh yado el rosh ha’olah- one should lean one’s hand on the head of the burnt offering.” Leaning your hand on the head of something is the exact opposite of carrying a burden. To carry a burden you have to put your hands under the bottom and hold it up. Here it says to lean your hand on its head. In other words, rest upon your offering. Let your awareness simply dwell with Reality as it is appearing now. In this way, it is “burnt up”- meaning, the energy that has become trapped in some burdensome emotion- resentment, anger, anxiety, whatever, gets freed up and reunited with your awareness that is accepting and embracing it. Reality that is One becomes One. This is in fact the call from everything in every moment: offer up the burden of your separate self by embracing what is. As it says in the first verse of this parshah, “Vayikra el Moshe- Called to Moses”. It doesn’t say who called to Moses, it just says “called”. The last letter of vayikra, “called”, is the letter Alef which has the numerical value of one, and is a symbol of the Divine One. This letter Alef is written smaller than all the other letters, hinting that the “Oneness” is hidden within everything, calling to us from everything, nudging us to see the hidden Oneness. Let go of your burden. Everything is really just the Blessed Holy One! This Shabbos may we all hear the Divine call ever more deeply. May our hearing evoke the lightness and aliveness from which springs the waters of love and playfulness, and may we play in the Ocean of the Oneness together. Good Shabbos!!! Both my father and my father-in-law were so happy a few years ago when my son started getting into playing sports like baseball and soccer. I have no interest in sports (except for when my son is playing, of course), so I think they were relieved that I hadn’t passed on my apathy for the “game”.
“There’s no ‘I’ in team,” my father-in-law would say. He was pointing out the importance of teamwork for building a spirit of connectedness and an ability to work well with others. And yet, it’s funny- while team sports are clearly all about people working together, the news media doesn’t seem to emphasize that side of it at all. As an experiment, I googled “sports news” and clicked on ESPN. A huge list of headlines came up for the latest news stories. Was there even one headline about how a team worked together? Not one. In fact, EVERY single story was about an individual- Byron Maxwell, Frank Gore, Brandon Flowers, LeSean McCoy, Chris Johnson- the list went on and on (all people I’ve never heard of). Despite the fact that the true story in any team sport emerges from the interaction between players, we seem to paint the story in terms of individuals. We love heroes. We love to point to the guy that’s the best, even though that guy would be nothing without the work of teammates. If you’ve ever given a complement to a religious Jew, or asked, “how are you doing?” you’ve probably heard the response, “thank G-d” or “Barukh Hashem”. This convention in the religious world is meant to downplay the focus on the individual and instead focus on the Whole. When a person says, “thank G-d”, it also means, “thank everything” and “thank everyone”, since nothing is believed to be separate from G-d. The religious person acknowledges: “I am not the cause, I am the effect. I am a tiny phenomenon in an Infinite Ocean of happening. The Infinite is responsible, not me.” Why so much linguistic effort to downplay the individual “I”? The Maggid of Zlotchov1 taught on a verse2 in which Moses is recounting the giving of the Ten Commandments. Moses says, “Anokhi omed bein Hashem uveineikhem- I stood between the Divine and you”. The Maggid interpreted like this- “The ‘I’ stands between G-d and us. When you say ‘I’, a wall stands between you and G-d. But for one who offers the ‘I’- there is no barrier. And this is what the words in the Song of Songs are referring to- ‘I am my beloved’s and his desire is toward me’- when my ‘I’ has become my beloved’s, then it is toward me that His desire turns.” The “Beloved” is nothing other than total Reality; everything is G-d. Each time you remember that everything is G-d, you are instantly and effortlessly reunited with the Beloved. It’s not that G-d has gone anywhere- there is nothing but G-d, only you have become used to It. It’s like walking with a lover, hand in hand. At first, you are on fire with love. But, if you keep walking, at some point you start to think about something else. Eventually you wouldn’t even notice that you are holding hands. To be reunited, in such a case, is to become aware of what is already present. In the opening verses of this week’s reading, Moses instructs the people of Israel3: “Sheishet yamim te’aseh melakha- six days shall work be done”. It doesn’t say, “six days you shall work (ta’ase),” but rather “six days work shall be done (te’ase).” The passive form suggests that a person should not identify with the work4; there should be no sense of “I am doing this work”. It then says “… uvayom hashvi’i yiyeh lakhem kodesh, Shabbat Shabbaton- on the seventh day it should be a holy day, a Sabbath of Sabbaths . . .” It doesn’t say there should be a Sabbath among the workdays, but a Sabbath among Sabbaths! Meaning, even the workdays should be Sabbaths, in a sense. Work is being done, but there should be no sense of a “me ” doing the work. There is only the One doer, and the One includes all the different beings doing their different jobs. That’s why one of the Divine Names is Elokim, which is a plural word, meaning “powers”. G-d is the many in the One. G-d is the team! This also explains the deeper meaning of a quite disturbing part of the verse: “…Shabbat Shabbaton Lashem, kol ha’oseh vo melakha yumat- A Shabbat of Shabbats to the Divine- all who work on it shall die!” On the surface it seems to be saying that if a person does work on Shabbat they will die or be executed. But there is a different way to read the verse- not “whoever does work on it shall die”, but rather, “whoever does work, on it shall die.” In other words, the “doer” of work during the week- the “I” that thinks it is the doer- should “die” on Shabbat. If you can put yourself to death as the “doer” on Shabbat, this opens the possibility to disidentify with the “doer” on weekdays as well. Then all of life is Shabbat. That is liberation. Try it- Say “Barukh Hashem” frequently, even just mentally. Every time you do anything, remind yourself- your strength is a gift. Your intelligence is a gift. Even the desire to do anything at all is a gift. It all comes from Beyond. Everything comes into being through an infinite string of efforts from an assembly of countless beings. And yet, there is only one person who can command this awareness for you, and that is you! That’s the paradox- you must be the hero, like Moses, assembling the entire assembly of Being before your mind in each moment- “Vayakhel Moshe et kol adat- and Moses assembled the entire assembly4…” May this Shabbos be a Shabbat Shabbaton; may we all surrender our “I” to the “Beloved” and know the One who is both Doer and Doing, both One and Many. May this realization spill over into all moments and may the world be swiftly healed from the abuses and distortions caused by the endlessly hungry “me”. May true peace come now! Amein! 1. The Maggid of Zlotchov was the 18th century Hassidic master Rabbi Yekhiel Mikhel 2. Deut. 5:5 3. Ex. 35:2 5. From the teachings of Rabbi Menachem Shneerson 4. Ex. 35:1 I have a friend who told me an amazing story about how she used to earn a living. She is a particularly handy person, with a knack for things like plumbing, light carpentry, and so on. Several years ago, she discovered that most people (myself included) don’t have such a knack and often need a handy person, so she started to take little fix-it jobs to earn extra money. For a while the jobs were easy for her. One day, she was asked to do a job that baffled her.
What did she do? Did she say, “Sorry, I can’t do that” and go on to an easier job? No. She pretended she knew how to do the job, went home and watched You Tube videos on how to fix that particular thing, then went and fixed it. That was just the beginning. Eventually, she was learning and growing by taking on harder and harder jobs. Her work became her school. There is an analogue here to spirituality. Just as the basic point of work is to receive physical sustenance in the form of money, so the basic point of spirituality is to receive spiritual sustenance- the Inner Light of bliss and oneness that manifests as wisdom, joy, love and many other wonderful qualities. The most direct way to connect with your spiritual sustenance is to remove outer distractions and do your avodah- spiritual work such as meditation, chanting, and so on. If you really just want that spiritual sustenance, you should involve yourself with as few other things as possible. Do what you need to do to eat and have basic necessities, then devote yourself to spiritual practice. That would be analogous to my friend taking the easy handy jobs she already knew how to do. But if your intention is not merely to get the sustenance, rather to learn and grow in your ability to stay connected to the Source of that sustenance even in the midst of life, then you can bring your spiritual Light into the chaos and complexity of life. Then, distractions are really not distractions anymore. They are what you need to train. They are your helpers on the path of becoming spiritually masterful. Many folks tend toward one side or the other. Some get so caught up in the drama of life that it is impossible remain present and bring forth the Inner Light when things get stressful. Others tend toward the other direction, seeing the drama of life as a distraction and withdrawing into solitude. And, there are times in life when it’s good to lean toward one side or the other. The truth, however, is that these two sides are not really separate or opposed to each other. The Inner Light that flowers within wants to express Itself; it wants to connect with life and bring its power of healing and wisdom. But to balance the rhythm between the Eternal and the temporal, the Silent and the noisy, requires attentiveness and intention. It takes a special effort to create the boundaries you need to have the space in the day for spiritual avodah. And, no matter how complete your realization of the One is in solitude, life will generate challenges for you when you get back in its game. Receiving those challenges as your spiritual training, and not merely distractions, takes a tremendous effort; but it is ultimately an effortless effort. This week’s reading, Ki Tisa, contains instructions for constructing a special basin of water that the kohanim (priests) were to wash their hands and feet with whenever they entered the sanctuary space or brought offerings onto the altar that was outside the sanctuary: “v’asita kiyor n’khoshet- you shall make a basin of copper…bein ohel mo’ed uvein hamizbe’akh- between the Tent of Meeting and the (outer) altar…v’natanta shama mayim- and you shall put water there.” The late Lubavitcher rebbe Rabbi Menachem M Shneerson z’l taught that the outer altar represents the sanctification of ordinary life activities. The inner sanctuary represents one’s spiritual practice and connection with Eternal, separate from mundane life. The fact that the kiyor- the basin- was between the two indicates that you need to inwardly “cleanse” your intentions before entering into your avodah, on one hand, and before entering into ordinary life activities as well. Having the right intention is the key to unifying the life of Being with the life of Doing. Having right intention with your avodah means to approach it in the spirit of service. You meditate and davven not just to “get” something from it but also to serve as a conduit- to bring the Spirit into form. Similarly, you don’t enter into mundane life only to derive material benefit from it, but also to receive its lessons, to be a student and become more and more adept at bringing the Spirit into expression. What is the key to right intention? It’s knowing you are here to serve. We are all constantly receiving, taking so much in so many different ways, but it must be for the sake of giving. That’s why, in the beginning of the reading, the Israelites are told they all must donate a half shekel when they are counted for the census, in order to prevent a plague- “Ki tisa et rosh b’nai Yisrael- when you take a census of the children of Israel… v’natnu ish kofer- they shall give for atonement… v’lo yiyeh vahem negef- so there won’t be a plague…makhazit hashekel- a half shekel…” Being “counted” means being part of community life, part of the chaotic push and pull of multiple agendas and intentions. This life becomes a “plague” if you get stuck in it, if you forget right intention, if you forget that you are ultimately here to serve the One. How do you serve the One? By being connected to the One and bringing Its Light and Bliss and Love into the mundane, into the chaos. And how do you do that? By taking time to separate from the mundane and doing your daily spiritual practice… not to mention the one full day of the week that is all spiritual practice- Shabbat. May this Shabbat be a full immersion into the Eternal and may our world drink of Her healing power- Good Shabbiiiisssss!!!! When I was growing up, my mother and sister loved to watch Mr. Ed, the TV show about the talking horse. I have a memory of coming home from school and finding them on the couch in a darkened living room with the theme song playing: “A horse is a horse of course of course…” with my mother singing along. At the end she sang, “you never heard of a talking horse? Well listen to this!” Then she pointed at my sister who belted out, “I AM MR. ED!”
It’s a funny memory but with profound implications! You see, the word for “witness” in Hebrew is “ed”. Ordinarily, we go around thinking that the “I” is the character in the story- the one who comes home from school, the one who sings the song. But the song tells us- the “I” is actually the “ed”- the witness, the conscious presence that is aware of the song, the singing, the living room, and the character who is singing. But to be aware of the awareness takes a special effort. It’s not difficult, but it’s subtle. It’s a kind of effortless effort. When you look at a painting, you are actually looking at a visual design of paint overlaid on a canvas. But when you look at the painting, how often are you aware of the canvas? You are looking right at it, but the mind doesn’t tend to focus on it. You see the design. What happens when you remind yourself that you are also looking at the canvas? As your mind holds the awareness of the canvas in addition to the design you may notice that it becomes still. Now, try being aware of your awareness. You might say to yourself, “hineini”- which just means “here I am” or “I am present”. What happens? We tend to look for G-d or Peace on the level of the painting. We want to change the painting into a better picture. But all along, That Which We Seek is already inherent in the canvas. Become aware of awareness, and the shape of your thoughts and feelings will come to reflect your inner depth, changing the “painting” of your character from the deepest level, rather than merely rearranging things on the surface. But how do you maintain this constantly? How can your awareness’s awareness of awareness be more than fleeting? There is a story of Reb Yaakov Yitzhak, the Seer of Lublin. When he was a young disciple of his master Reb Shmelke, his rebbe imposed a certain responsibility on him. Reb Shmelke told Reb Yaakov Yitzhak that he should be constantly watchful to make sure that Reb Shmelke never lost is deveikus- his constant bond of spiritual rapture with the One. He should watch his master especially during the activity of Talmudic debate, when his intellectual arguing could distract him from the Divine. If he noticed his master losing it, he should gently touch is gloves to remind him. Reb Yaakov Yitzhak reported that he never had to touch his master’s gloves even once. Why would that master give his disciple such a task, if in fact he never needed his disciple’s help? Of course, it was to help his disciple remain mindful himself! By watching the deveikus of his rebbe, he was also able to remain in deveikus. To remain present constantly and live from your own inherent freedom, from the wellspring of wisdom and peace that springs from your own awareness, you have to be tremendously selfish. It takes a heroic effort to constantly arouse deveikus, moment by moment. But if you know that you are not just doing it for yourself, that you in fact must do it in order to serve others, it becomes not just about you. It becomes a duty. Just as a parent generally does not forget to go to work to make money to buy food for the children, so it is far easier to remember to be present when you know that it is your duty to others. This week’s reading describes various clothing worn by the Kohanim- the priests- the spiritual leadership in the community. The High Priest had to wear a special head piece- a gold platelet which bore the Divine Name. It says, “V’hayah al mitzkho tamid- and it shall be on his forehead always.” The Talmud (Tractate Yoma) comments- “…that he should never divert his attention from it.” In other words, he must remain constantly mindful of the Divine. It’s very clever that the symbol of the Divine, the engraved name, is on his forehead- so close to his eyes, yet impossible to see! That is exactly what deveikus, or awareness’ awareness of awareness, is like. You can’t see it because it is the seeing itself. The awareness looking through your eyes in this moment is the waking up of Existence through your body/mind. That awareness tends to fall into the dream of thinking, “I am this body-mind. I am so-and-so”. But in becoming aware of awareness, you can drop the sense of “I” as separate. The awareness is not “yours” really- it is G-d’s. It is Existence. Than you can truly know, “I AM MR. ED!” As it says in the beginning of the parshah, “…Tetzaveh et b’nai Yisrael v’yik’hu elekha shemen… Command the children of Israel to take to yourself oil… to kindle a lamp constantly… outside the EDut- the tablets of witness”. The lamp is your awareness. The oil is the fuel- your consciousness. The “Edut”or “tablets of witness” are your inner witnessing. These are three aspects of the same thing: consciousness becoming aware of itself as the witness- awareness’s awareness of awareness. How do you do it? Tetzaveh- command it! Just to have the intention is already to do it. This Shabbos may we all grow in our awareness of the One Reality, the One Being. May that Light shine from our eyes, our words and our deeds, not just for our own sake but for the sake of serving each other in love. Good Shabbos! Let’s face it- people can be annoying. People annoy us and we annoy them.
A few days ago I was in a workshop at a retreat center. I was in a room full of people, listening to the teacher speak to the class. Next to me there was this guy who happened to be standing on an area of floor that emitted a really loud squeak whenever someone stepped on it. So what did this guy do? He stood on that spot and rocked his body back and forth, making a terribly annoying and loud squeak, over and over again. He appeared to be totally unconscious of what he was doing. I was amazed that he either couldn’t hear the loud noise he was making or he just didn’t care. Sometimes people go beyond mere annoyance, doing things that are downright enraging. And sometimes, the offending party is one we love deeply- maybe even our most beloved. Have you ever been enraged by someone you love? Have you ever lashed out in anger against your beloved? If you have, than perhaps you know the pain of separation it causes- the sour flavor that permeates life in the wake of such encounters. What is the remedy? How can the sundered fabric of relationship be healed and closeness be restored? There is a word in Hebrew for “holy” or “sacred”- kadosh. Kadosh actually means “separate”, but not in the ordinary sense. In the case of a wounded relationship, the word “separate” connotes distance, disconnectedness, alienation. But the word kadosh actually means the opposite. In a Jewish wedding ceremony we hear the words- “…at meKUDESHet li- you are holy to me”. Your partner or spouse becomes “separate” because they are your most intimate, and therefore separate from all other less intimate relationships. So, the separateness of kadosh points not to something that is distant, but most central. It points not to alienation, but to the deepest connection. This week’s reading begins the Divine instructions for building the Mishkan- the portable temple for the wandering Israelites: “V'asu li Mikdash v’shakhanti mitokham- And make for me a Mikdash- a Sanctuary- and I will dwell within you”. The word Mikdash has the same root as holy- kadosh. In the Torah, the Mikdash is the place that the Divine Presence manifests and communes with the Israelites. The other word for the Sanctuary, Mishkan, implies the Divine Presence- the Shekhina. And what is the main function of this communing with the sacred? The Israelites sought out the Divine to heal their wounds of separation. They brought their fruit, their grain and their animals to be offered on the fiery altar in order to free themselves from the alienation caused by their own transgressions. The word for a sacrificial offering is “korban”, which means not sacrifice, but nearness, intimacy. Where was this Mikdash erected? Was it separate from the camp, off at a distance, so that you would have to hike out to it? No- it was in the center of the camp! And within the Mikdash was a special place considered the most holy- the kadosh kadoshim- the “holy of holies”. This most sacred space was the innermost room in the Mikdash- the center of the center. This representation of the sacred in space and architecture is not mere ritual magic from the past. It is a pointer to the true sanctuary of Presence within your own life. There can only be one center of your life, and that center is the one place that life is actually being lived- this moment. You are never separate from this moment, and yet- are you truly dwelling within it? “...V'asu li Mikdash v’shakhanit mitokham…” There is a Divine call, in a sense. It calls to us equally in pain and in joy, in excitement and in boredom. It says, “Come to the center. Build me a sanctuary.” How do you build it? The essence of the sanctuary is not the structure, but the space within the structure. The structure is already there as your body, your mind, your heart. They become a sanctuary the moment you allow there to be a space. The space completes the structure. Come into that space- come into your body, come into this moment. Bring your korban to the altar. Is there pain? Is there fear? Is there regret? Is there embarrassment? Bring it all. Let the fire on the altar of the present moment burn away the separation. Let it hurt- the pain is temporary. From within the space of allowing yourself to feel whatever needs to be felt, there is a transmutation that takes place. The energy of separation and pain becomes the energy of love. And from this love there is the possibility of external healing as well- the healing that happens between people through deeds of love. The sages taught that it is for the sake of this love that the universe has come into being*, that when we commit acts of Hesed, of loving kindness toward one another, we make the world itself into a sanctuary, into a home for the Divine. As we learn to inhabit the temple of our bodies in the present, may the great love that arises from this Presence find sanctuary in our deeds, and may our deeds be ones of loving kindness and wisdom. Shabbat Shalom, Hodesh Tov- Happy New Month! -Brian Yosef *The Jewish concept that G-d created the world in order to bestow goodness is stated in many places, notably in the works of eighteenth century Kabbalist Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (Etz Chaim, Shaar HaKlalim 1; Mesilat Yesharim 1; Derech Hashem 1:2:1). Sometimes I hear this question:
If you awaken spiritually, does that mean that you will remain awake all the time? Does awakening create a permanent state? This question reminds me of the time before I was married, when I had a “girlfriend”. On one hand, we were in a committed relationship. On the other hand, we always had the choice to spend time together or not. At the end of the day, I was always free to go home to my own house if I wanted to. So, although there was a kind of commitment, it was nothing like the commitment I have now as a married person. Does that mean “marriage” is a permanent state in which the relationship is constant and perfect? Of course not! Like all living things, it is in motion. It needs attention and nurturance. And yet, there is something that changes completely when two people decide to have one life together, to be one family. Spiritual awakening is just like that. At first, you may have a spiritual experience. That experience tells you something about reality; it changes your whole outlook. However, like all experiences, it is temporary. When it fades and another experience happens, you can forget all about what you learned. You are not having the spiritual experience anymore, so you don’t have access to its truth. You may long for that experience, you may seek it out in different ways, you may even find it. You may find it in meditation, in music, in dance, whatever. But ultimately, it is a place you visit, not the place you live. It is your girl/boyfriend, not your life partner. This week’s reading, Parshat Mishpatim, begins with laws regarding a male Hebrew indentured servant. It says that he can work for six years but must be set free in the seventh year. The word for indentured servant is the same as the word for slave- eved. The master of the slave is called an adon- “lord”. But these two words, eved and adon, also have a completely different connotation: God is sometimes called Adon, and a holy person is called an eved Hashem- a servant of God. The ultimate spiritual goal is to become an eved Hashem, meaning that your separate egoic self sense becomes subordinate to the Reality of the One. You no longer live for yourself, you live for God. In fact, “you” don’t really live at all; there is no separate “you”; there is just God. Seen metaphorically, then, the Hebrew eved that goes free is like someone who has a spiritual experience, but when the experience is over, s/he goes free from it. It is temporary. But then the text says that if the eved does not want to go free, he is brought to a doorpost, declares that he loves his adon and his new family, and that he wants remain an eved. His ear is then pierced against the doorpost and becomes a slave forever. The metaphors are so rich! To awaken means that you commit to Reality as your Lord, your Master, your God. Reality also becomes like your family- your home base- the place you live, not the place you visit. Does that mean that you are now a perfect servant? Does it mean that you now have a perfect marriage? Of course not! You can and must get better at it. There is risk- failure is possible. But you have stepped into marriage with the Beloved. All of the rituals of Judaism are really expressions of this basic commitment, this brit, this “covenant” with the Divine. How do you take this step? When it says the slave is taken to the doorpost, the word for doorpost is mezuzah- the same as the ritual scroll traditionally fastened to the doorposts of Jewish homes. And what is the first word of the text written on the mezuzah? “Sh’ma”- “Hear”! Hearing, unlike seeing and tasting, is the sense that we cannot shut down; our ears are always open. We cannot shut our ears to escape the sounds around us. Similarly, we cannot escape Reality. There is nothing but Reality, everywhere! To step into Reality, then, is actually the most simple thing. It means dropping the stories and being with what is. It means being an open ear. The name of this week's reading, Mishpatim, means “judgments”. At the deepest level, there is only one spiritual judgment to ever make: commit or don’t commit. Hear or refuse to hear. Awaken from the dream of the mind-created self or live in the dream. Are you ready to commit to Reality as It steps up to you in this moment? Are you ready to give up the false dream of freedom from Reality and embrace the true freedom- -the freedom of your own inner stillness, one with life as it unfolds? When I was young, I loved Spiderman. I also loved to dress up. But I didn’t want to dress up as Spiderman, which would be unoriginal, so I invented a new superhero: “Inchiderman”.
“Inchiderman” combined the powers of a spider with the powers of an inchworm. I don’t know why I thought the powers of an inchworm would be helpful, but he was my superhero. I put together the costume with a pair of tights, a red and blue winter coat and a paper mask I had made. I also constructed a web shooter from a syringe, which I filled with a combination of Crazy Glue, Elmer’s Glue and honey. Back in those days I lived with my family on three acres of mostly woods in Pomona, New York. One day I went out into the woods dressed as Inchiderman with my dog Ophelia. I hiked out to the end of the woods, beyond which were apple orchards. I ventured into the orchards for a while and then came back to the woods. But, I couldn’t find the path that led back to my house. I wandered around for a while and eventually realized that I was lost. I started to panic and cry. I ran this way and that, crying and yelling, “Help!” Ophelia, however, was happy. She jumped around and played while I freaked out. She wasn’t lost. I got mad and yelled at her- “Ophelia, take us home!” but she just jumped and played. Eventually I stopped panicking. I was still scared and sad, but I stopped crying and running. Ophelia stopped too. She just looked at me, waiting to see what would happen next, but there was nothing next. I was just lost. Something within me had shifted. I can remember feeling the presence of the forest, the smell of the crisp air, the sound of the wind in the trees. My Inchiderman fantasy was gone, and I was just present with the forest and with Ophelia. Scared and sad, but present. Then, out of nowhere, a man appeared and showed me the way to a path that led to the back of the swimming pond down the street from my house. Ophelia and I took the path and found the road. I carried my ripped Inchiderman mask and syringe web shooter back home. In this week’s Torah reading, Parshat Yitro, the Israelites too were in the wilderness. They too had been panicking, complaining and crying to go back to Egypt. In this parsha they come to the foot of Mt. Sinai and prepare themselves to receive the Torah. The mountain quakes with fire and thunder. There is a sound of a blasting ram’s horn that begins quietly, then gets louder and louder. The people are terrified and tremble. And then, from the midst of the cloud and fire, a Voice begins to speak the sayings that became known as the “Ten Commandments”- “Anokhi Hashem Elohekha asher hotzeitikha etkhem me’eretz Mitrayim, mibeit avadim- I am Hashem your G-d who brought you out from the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage…” What exactly is this first “commandment”? According to Maimonides (b. 1135- d.1204 CE) in his work Sefer HaMitzvot, the first commandment is just to believe in G-d, to acknowledge that G-d freed our ancestors from slavery. But there is a message here that is not merely about the past or about belief, but rather it directly applies to this moment within which we now find ourselves: “Anokhi Hashem” means that the “Anokhi,” the “I”, is actually “Hashem”- Divine. Meaning, the inner identity of everything is the ultimate, living Presence of Existence; that’s what the Divine Name actually means. The Israelites are shaken by the terrible awesomeness of the natural world around them, and in that heightened state, the inner identity of nature reveals Itself. It’s not about believing in the idea of a divine entity. It’s not about adding another concept to the mind’s ideas about reality. It’s about recognizing Existence Itself- recognizing That which the mind cannot map. The next thing the Voice says is that It “brought you out from the land of Egypt.” Why is liberation particularly connected to the self-revelation of Divinity? The mind is a mapping device. It is a navigation unit, constantly creating an inner context through which we know who and where we are and what we are doing. Very useful! But this creates the side effect of seeing reality through the screen of that map. The mind sees the surface of things- a collection of related but separate parts, and the mind also feels itself to be separate from what it sees. But there comes a time when the inner map breaks down, and we are lost. Somehow we lose the continuity of the mind-created context and the familiar disappears. We step out of the Mitzrayim of the known, of the conditioned mental patterns of separateness. This "wilderness" can be terrifying. And yet, in the unknown there is the possibility of connecting with Reality in a very direct way, a way that knows Being as a Whole, as a Oneness. This knowing is itself liberation- liberation from the burden of time and conditioned identity. When the Israelites receive this revelation, the text says “v’khol ha’am ro’im et hakolot- all the people saw the sounds.” Not heard the sounds, but saw! In other words, they perceived everything in a completely new way. It is a kind of awakening. I think that’s what happened to me that day in the woods when I got lost. After the initial terror and panic, after the “thunder and fire”, there was this stillness, this recognition. There was a new kind of seeing. And then, miraculously, the salvation that appeared. The other night, my son and I were watching the new version of Cosmos with the physicist Neil deGrasse Tyson. Tyson began by defining our “cosmic address.” First, he showed us, we are on planet Earth. Then, the perspective pulls back to reveal our Solar System. Then, it pulled out even more to the Milky Way Galaxy. Then even further to see the family of galaxies that the Milky Way is part of, called the Local Group. Then, even further, the Local Group was part of a larger cluster of galaxy families, called the Virgo Supercluster. Then it pulled out even further to view the many clusters that make up the Observable Universe. But what comes after that? We had come to limits of our map, beyond which was simply mystery. He then hypothesized that our whole universe is merely a single bubble in an infinite ocean of bubbles, each one a complete universe. Now, where would that ocean be exactly? The imagination reaches out toward infinity and comes to stillness. Ultimately, we don’t and can’t know where or what or even why any of this is. And yet we do know- Hinei! Here it is! Try it yourself- Stretch your imagination out into the universe until you reach its boundaries. You may find that, in the sensation of trying to imagine the unimaginable, there is an emptying of the mind and a simple, blooming awareness of whatever is around you and within you now, in this moment. When that begins to happen, just let it. Give up trying to "grasp" anything. Simply relax your sense of what is going on, of where you are, of who you are, of what you are doing. Don’t push it away, just let it go. Open yourself to this moment as it is unfolding, the way you would toward an intimate friend. Lose your self, find the One. Let the Anokhi- the inner Presence of Existence- take you into the freedom of this eternal present. And in the Light of that lightness, of that benevolent Presence that is also your own inner identity, may all of our words and actions shine for healing, love and peace. Amein. |
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