28 Friday Dec 2012
From my friend, Mike Rogoff (Israeli guide and translator)
Ancient Wisdom – “If you are depressed, you are living in the past. / If you are anxious, you are living in the future. / If you are at peace, you are living in the present.” (Lao Tzu -aka Laozi- 5th century BCE)
Israeli Truth – “If you are at peace, you are living in the past. / If you are anxious, you are living in the present. / If you are depressed, you are living in the future.” (Mike Rogoff, 2012)
12 Friday Oct 2012
One of the most important verses in all of Torah appears in this week’s Torah portion B’reishit: “And God said: Let us make the human being in our image, after our likeness” (Vayomer Elohim, naaseh Adam b’tzalmeinu kidmuteinu…” (Genesis 1:26).
Notice that God seems to be speaking to others, but who? The Midrash imagines this conversation between God and the only other beings with whom the Divine could possibly be talking – the heavenly host, or angels:
“Rabbi Simon said: When the Holy One, blessed be God, came to create Adam, the ministering angels formed themselves into groups and parties, some of them saying, ‘Let the human be created,’ while others urged, Let the human not be created.’ Thus it is written, ‘Love (Chesed) and Truth (Emet) fought each other, ‘Righteousness’ (Tzedek) and ‘Peace’ (Shalom) combated each other’ (Ps. 85:11). Love said, ‘Let [Adam] be created, because he will dispense acts of love (g’milut chassadim)’; Truth said, ‘Let [Adam] not be created, because he is filled through and through with lies’ (sh’karim); ‘Righteousness’ said, ‘ Let [Adam] be created, because he will perform righteous deeds’ (tz’dakot); ‘Peace’ said, ‘Let [Adam] not be created, because he is full of strife (k’tatah)”’ … Rabbi Huna the Elder of Sepphoris, said: While the ministering angels were arguing … the Holy One, blessed be God, created [Adam]. Said God: ‘What can you do? The human has already been made!’” (B’reishit Rabbah 8:5)
To review – the angels of “Truth” and “Peace” were against the creation of the human being because they knew that we mortals would lie and fight each other in battles large and small.
The angels of “Love” and “Righteousness” favored our creation because they knew that we would perform deeds of loving-kindness (g’milut chassadim) and acts of righteousness (tzedek).
In the end, God sided with “Love” and “Righteousness” and Adam Harishon (i.e. the First Human) was created.
“Truth” and “Peace” were right, however, because we are prone to lying and fighting, to intolerance of the “other,” hard-heartedness, self-centeredness and small-mindedness.
And “Love” and “Righteousness” were also right because we can be compassionate, empathic, generous, humble, and kind.
The story is told that once the Baal Shem Tov summoned Sammael, the Lord of demons, because of some important matter that he wished to command Sammael to do, but Sammael resisted. So the BESHT told his disciples to bare their foreheads to Sammael, and on every forehead, the Lord of demons saw inscribed the sign of the image in which God creates the human being – B’tzelem Elohim.
Sammael was disarmed, and then agreed to do the BESHT’s bidding, but asked humbly and beseechingly before departing, “Oh children of the living God, permit me to stay here just a little longer and gaze upon your foreheads.” (Tales of the Hasidim, Martin Buber, Book 1, p. 77).
I encounter people every day, some with open and kind hearts, and some self-centered and mean-spirited. This story and the verse upon which it is based (Genesis 1:26) remind us who we are and before Whom we stand.
When those before me are kind, generous, inclusive, and loving, I see the words B’tzelem Elohim flowing from their every pore. When they are not, still I search for the sign of God on their foreheads, strive to treat them as if those sacred words are apparent, and I imagine what kind of world we would have if we looked for that sign in everyone we meet.
Shabbat shalom!
07 Sunday Oct 2012
It isn’t often that the Torah portion of the week and my getting a haircut coincide, but it did last week.
For years Susie Polin has cut my hair. She has a huge heart, is a artist who cuts hair for a living and a Sephardic Jew whose family origins are from Greece.
Last week’s Shabbat Torah portion included Exodus 34:6-7 (for Chol Hamoed Sukkot):
“Adonai, Adonai, El rachum v’chanun, erech apayim, v’rav chesed v’emet: notzeir chesed la-alaphim nose avon vafesha, v’chataah v’nakeh”
“Adonai! Adonai! A God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin…”
Susie has lived in the Pico-Fairfax neighborhood of Los Angeles for many years. Once a Jewish neighborhood, by the time she moved there it was African-American and she was “the only white Jewish girl” in the neighborhood. Nevertheless, she became close to her neighbors, especially the people next door. Five months ago the elderly woman who lived there died leaving her husband Johnny alone. Johnny had worked for many years for the LA Unified School District and had come into contact with asbestos, which sealed his fate.
After his wife died, Susie asked if she could do anything for him as he too was infirm. “Thanks Susie – I’m alright!”
“Do you have enough food in the house,” she asked.
“I’m good every day except Tuesday.”
“You can count on me, Johnny, to bring you dinner each Tuesday,” she generously offered.
So every Tuesday for the past four months Susie brought Johnny dinner that she bought at the local Gelsons take-out stand. When she explained to the Gelsons’ workers that she’d be back every week to buy dinner for Johnny, they gave her double the food at the same price, food that lasted Johnny for days.
One day, Johnny asked, “Susie – is ‘Jew’ and ‘Jewish’ the same?”
“Yes!” she said.
“What’s Jewish?”
Susie explained that to be Jewish means to follow the Bible’s commandments and to do deeds of loving-kindness for others. It’s all about love,” she explained, “because God wants us to love each other.”
“I love you, Susie.”
“I love you too, Johnny!”
Johnny died two weeks ago. When the day of his funeral arrived, Susie drove to the black church in South LA and was the first to arrive. She entered the church and sat down. As his family, many friends and care-takers arrived, those who knew her greeted her like a she was a member of their family. Soon everyone heard what Susie had done for Johnny, and that she was a Jew.
When she told me about her experience I was reminded of the famous story in the Midrash (D’varim Rabba 3:3):
“Rabbi Shimon ben Shetach one day commissioned his disciples to buy him a camel from an Arab. When they brought him the animal, they gleefully announced that they had found a precious stone in its collar. ‘Did the seller know of this gem?’ asked the Master. On being answered in the negative, he called out angrily, ‘Do you think me a barbarian that I should take advantage of the letter of the law by which the gem is mine together with the camel? Return the gem to the Arab immediately.’ When the Arab received it back, he exclaimed: ‘Blessed be the God of Shimon ben Shetach! Blessed be the God of Israel.”
I told this story about Susie and Johnny on Friday night to my congregation. There were many children present including our 6th grade Day School students and their Israeli exchange student friends from the Tzahalah Elementary School in north Tel Aviv.
I explained to them that we are all more than just individuals. We are part of a family, a people and a religious tradition, and what we say and do outside our homes and immediate communities not only reflect back on us, but also on our families and the Jewish people.
The way we treat others, whoever they are, Jews, Christians, Muslims, blacks, Latinos, Asians, Palestinians, immigrants, the poor, the powerless, strangers, the people with whom we work, the people who work for us, tells more about who we are and what we value than anything we say we believe.
Susie Polin is a special woman who gives of her heart and soul continually to others. Through her loving deeds the good name of the Jewish people and the God of Israel was enhanced in Johnny’s community, for Susie may have been the only Jew that Johnny and many in his community ever knew up close.
Torah can come to us at any time and in any place, even the barber’s chair.
Chag Sameach!
27 Thursday Sep 2012
So much of Torah is metaphor. Indeed, if we read this classic Jewish text only according to its plane meaning we miss the greater truths and the richer opportunities for understanding and transcendence.
The poetry of Ha-a-zinu (Deuteronomy 32:1-43) is as fine an example of metaphor as there is in Torah. It begins this way:
Ha-a-zinu ha-sha-ma-yim v’a-da-bei-rah / v’tish’ma ha-a-retz im’rei fi: / Ya-a-rof k’ma-tar lik’chi / ti-zal katal im’ra-ti / kis’i-rim alei deshe / v’kir’vi-vim alei esev. (vs 1-2)
“Give ear, O heavens, that I may speak, / hear, O earth, the utterance of my mouth. / Let my teaching drip like rain, / let my words flow like dew, / like droplets on new-growth, / like showers on grass. (Translation by Everett Fox, “The Five Books of Moses,” pps. 1001-1002)
Most sages interpret this verse as “hyperbole for the study of Torah,” that the more Torah we learn the deeper will be our understanding.
“The earth requires heavy rainfall to promote plant growth. Once such plant life exists, relatively small amounts of rain or moisture ensure the ongoing process of vegetation. Matar (“drip like rain”) is the initial precipitation, a downpour. R’vivim (“like showers on grass”) are the minimal amount of moisture required to maintain grass in prime condition. Deshe (“new-growth”) is the initial growth. Esev (“grass”) is the growth when it has matured already.” (Rabbi Moshe ben Chayim Alshich, 1508-1600)
Possibly, the lesson of these verses is that Torah learning is progressive. When we begin to study Torah it appears as if a tremendous input (matar – “drip”) produces relatively little output, (deshe – “new-growth”), that is, we acquire only a coarse primitive knowledge of Torah. But, in the course of time and with the advantage of the infusion of a steady gentle input (r’rivim – “showers”) of learning there will be produced a refined mature output (esev – “grass”) of deeper Torah knowledge.
“The more Torah [we] learn the less burdensome and more rewarding such study appears to the student.” (“Midrash of Rabbi Moshe Alshich,” transl. Eliyahu Munk, vol. 3, page 1132)
Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Przysucha (1765-1827) reflects on the benefits of Torah learning this way:
“The hallowed words of the Torah may be likened to rain. While the rain falls we still cannot see the benefit it brings to the trees, the plants and the soil. It is only later, when the sun shines again, that we can see what the rain has wrought. We find the same to be true with regard to the words of the Law. While they are uttered we still cannot see what they will accomplish on earth, but in the end all will know what they have wrought.” (“Wellsprings of Torah,” Rabbi Alexander Zusia Friedman, p. 432).
People (adults and children alike) often ask what I love so much that I am consistently engaged with learning Torah over many years. I explain that I love the cumulative effect of gaining in Torah knowledge because this kind of learning opens my heart and soul ever-wider thus revealing intuitively to me the wonders of the heavens and the earth on a level that I experience in no other way.
The Hebrew for the revelation of God at Mount Sinai is Matan Torah, the “giving of Torah.”The uniqueness of this “giving” is that it is ongoing. Truths buried within each of our souls are necessarily hidden because of our physical creaturely identity. Only by continuous Torah learning do the deeper truths about who we really are in relationship to God become evident.
One of those truths was inspiringly articulated by the theologian Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955): “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.”
In other words, our souls are much greater, much older, and much richer than we realize. It is through this kind of learning that I have discovered this truth.
Shabbat shalom and L’shanah tovah u-m’tukah!
14 Friday Sep 2012
This prayer was written by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, (aka The Alter Rebbe), author of The Tanya:
“Dear God – You commanded us that we should ‘know today, and put it back into our hearts, that You are God – in Heaven above and Earth below – there is nothing else,’ and I’m asking You to help me, to keep my mind really clear, that I might see Your workings in the universe, to feel that You are the life that is invigorating me in this very moment.”
(Cited in A Hidden Light: Stories and Teachings of Early HaBaD and Bratzlav Hasidism, by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi and Netanel Miles-Yepez, with a forward by Susannah Heschel, p. 102)
13 Thursday Sep 2012
Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah said, “No one ever got the better of me, except for one woman, one boy and one girl.” (Talmud Bavli, Eruvim 53b)
He met the boy at a crossroads and asked him how to get to a certain town. The boy pointed to two paths and said, “This is the ‘long and short way,’ (derech arukah u-k’tzarah) and this is the ‘short and long way.’”
Wishing to arrive as quickly as possible, Rabbi Joshua chose the “short and long way” but soon discovered that though that path seemed at the outset to be the shorter route, he couldn’t actually reach the city because the path was obstructed by orchards and gardens. And so, he was forced to retrace his steps and take the other path, the “long and short way.”
This path seemed, at the outset, to be a much longer, more winding and difficult path, but ultimately it turned out to be the surer way between the two to reach his destination.
What’s the meaning of this Talmudic tale? Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liada, known as the Alter Rebbe (i.e. the “Old Rebbe”), taught in the opening pages of The Tanya (see Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz’s commentary Opening the Tanya, pps. 8-9) that in serving God we have to take the “long and short way” not the “short and long way” because there are no reliable spiritual shortcuts in our effort to come close to God.
Even so, the “long way” doesn’t promise us immediate spiritual elevation either because true spiritual ascent depends on the right preparation and training just as any physical feat requires training.
The Alter Rebbe taught that “the long and short way” can bring great enhancement of our mental and spiritual awareness. But he emphasized that effective spiritual ascent must start from the bottom and move up and does not come as a result of inspiration coming to us from above.
The story of “the long and short way” and the Alter Rebbe’s approach to spiritual growth is based on his understanding of a key verse in the book of Deuteronomy upon which he based The Tanya. We read the verse in this week’s Torah portion Nitzavim. Many Reform congregations read it also on the morning of Yom Kippur.
The key verse: Ki ka-rov elecha ha-davar m’od b’ficha u-vil’vav’cha la-a-soto (“The word is very near to you, in your mouth, and in your heart, that you may do it.” – Deuteronomy 30:14)
The goal of these High Holidays is to come close to God. Rebbe Yehiel Mikhal of Zlotchov said that our aim is to literally lose ourselves in the divine All like “a drop that has fallen into the great sea and…is one with the waters of the sea and … no longer a separate thing at all.”
It is “the long and short way” that will lead us there because the long way requires us to confront the mind that throws up obstacles such as doubt, excessive intellectualizing and the distractions of the material world (i.e. the orchards and gardens that Rabbi Joshua encountered). The short way is the way of faith that comes only after we successfully work through and around the obstacles in our way.
Only when we become aware of the deep spiritual connection we have naturally to the Creator by virtue of having been fashioned B’tzelem Elohim (“in the Divine Image”) do we discover our true selves linked by soul (i.e. n’shamah) as a reflection of God.
May the beginning of the New Year be one of transcendence and rediscovery for you and your dear ones.
Shabbat shalom!
06 Thursday Sep 2012
Soren Kierkegaard said: “It is perfectly true, as philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that it must be lived forwards.”
Though we are always living forward, the life lessons we learn helps to shape our future. Since this is the season of self-examination leading to Rosh Hashanah in 9 days, I offer to you a list of 32 life lessons I’ve learned in my nearly 63 years – there are others, but the number 32 is a significant one in the mystical tradition. It equals the 22 letters of the Hebrew aleph bet plus the 10 “words” of the covenant, and it is the number equivalent for the Hebrew word Lev (lamed – beit), heart, which the mystics teach are the number of pathways to God.
I offer the following, some of which I’ve borrowed gratefully from a 90 year old lady named Regina Brett and published in the Plain Dealer from Cleveland, Ohio (in italics).
They are not necessarily a way to God, but a means to a healthier, wiser and more sacred way of living, at least as I’ve come to believe in them. I encourage you to draw up your own list.
1. God gave us life and our natural abilities only – everything else is either up to us or a result of dumb luck.
2. Life isn’t always fair, but it’s still good.
3. Life is short, so cut your losses early.
4. Begin planning for retirement as a teen-ager by developing your passions and interests, for they will sustain you when you get old.
5. Make peace with your past so it won’t screw up your present.
6. You don’t have to win every argument, so at a certain point stop arguing.
7. Love your spouse above all other people and things. If you aren’t married, then nurture the special friendships in your life.
8. Don’t compare your life to anyone else’s as you have no idea what their journey has been all about.
9. If you can’t publish what you want to say or do on the front page of The NY Times, then don’t say or do it.
10. Try not to speak ill of anyone else, but if you must, do so only with trusted friends and then only in order to understand better how to cope better with people like that.
11. Don’t procrastinate seeing doctors. It may save your life.
12. Carpe diem. Take pleasure in this day and do that which inspires you for we don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
13. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
14. Breathe deeply as it calms the heart, mind, body, and soul.
15. Take your shoes off whenever possible as studies indicate that doing so will prolong your life.
16. Too much alcohol and drugs dull the mind and loosen the lips compelling us to say things we may mean but don’t want said and to say things we may not mean at all.
17. Get a dog or a cat for the love for and from such a creature is unlike anything else you will ever know.
18. Over prepare, and then go with the flow.
19. It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.
20. Speak the truth but only when you know you can be effective and only if it doesn’t cause another person unnecessary harm or hurt. Otherwise, just be quiet.
21. Stand up to bullies wherever they are and whenever you encounter them.
22. Time really does heal almost everything.
23. Don’t fear or resist change for it is natural, necessary and an opportunity for growth.
24. Love is not just a matter of the heart – it comes from God.
25. Learn Torah as often as possible – it will enrich, change and enhance your life and it will inspire you to do things you might never choose to do otherwise.
26. Being outdoors is almost always better than being indoors.
27. Don’t envy anyone else’s talent, circumstances or life – you already have everything you require.
28. Be modest.
29. Be forgiving.
30. Be kind.
31. Be generous.
32. Be grateful.
Now, let’s live our lives forward.
Shabbat Shalom!
24 Friday Aug 2012
This story is told by Howard Schwartz who based it on the tale by Zevulon Qort from Ben Zion Asherov of Afghanistan (I have edited his original telling):
“There was once a Jew who went out into the world to fulfill the Biblical commandment – Tzedek tzedek tirdof [Deut. 26:20] – ‘Justice, justice shall you pursue.’
Many years passed until the man had explored the entire known world except for one last, great forest. He entered the forest and came upon a cave of thieves who mocked him, saying: ‘Do you expect to find justice here?’ Then he went into the huts of witches, and they too laughed at him: ‘Do you expect to find justice here?’
At last he arrived at a fragile clay hut, and through the window he saw many flickering flames and wondered why they were burning. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Then he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
As soon as he entered, he realized that the hut was much larger than it had appeared from the outside. He saw hundreds of shelves and on every shelf there were dozens of oil candles. Some of the candles were sitting in holders of gold, silver, or marble, and some were in cheap holders of clay or tin. Some were filled with oil with straight wicks and bright burning flames. Others had little oil left and were about to sputter out.
An old man in a white robe and white beard stood before him, and said: ‘Shalom Aleichem, my son. How can I help you?’ And the Jew said: “Aleichem shalom. I have gone everywhere, searching for justice but never have I seen anything like this. Tell me, what are all these candles?”
The old man said: “Each is the candle of a person’s soul.” As it says in Proverbs 20:27 – Ner Yah nishmat Adam – ‘The candle of God is the human soul.’ As long as that person remains alive the candle burns; but, when the person’s soul takes leave of this world, the candle burns out.’
The Jew who sought justice said: ‘Can you show me the candle of my soul?’ And the old man said: ‘Follow me.’
He led the Jew through that labyrinth of a cottage. At last they reached a low shelf, and there the old man pointed to a candle in a clay holder and said, ‘That is the candle of your soul.’
A great fear fell upon him for its wick was very short with little oil remaining. Was it possible for the end to be so near without his knowing it? Then he noticed the candle next to his own full of oil, long and straight, its flame burning brightly.
‘Whose candle is that?’ he asked.
‘I can only reveal each person’s candle to him or herself alone,’ the old man said, and he turned and left.
The Jew stood there staring at his candle, then heard a sputtering sound, and when he looked up, he saw smoke rising from another shelf, and he knew that somewhere someone was no longer among the living. He looked back at his own candle, then he turned to the candle next to his own, so full of oil, and a terrible thought entered his mind.
He searched for the old man, but didn’t see him. Then he lifted the candle next to his own and held it above his own, and all at once the old man appeared, gripped powerfully his arm, and said: ‘Is THIS the kind of justice you seek?’
The Jew closed his eyes from the pain caused by the old man’s iron grip, and when he opened them the old man was gone, the cottage and candles had disappeared, and he stood alone in the forest, and heard the trees whispering his fate.”
This story is not just about justice but about who we are, what we believe and how we behave. Indeed, unless we are through and through committed to the highest moral and religious principles of our tradition, we cannot bring about a more just and compassionate world.
The month of Elul that began this past Saturday night brings each of us into a great forest of our own. In the Garden of Eden God called to Adam Ayeka (Where are you?). That question is addressed to every Jew, especially now, and we have to respond ourselves, for like Adam, there is no place to hide. What is inside each of our hearts and souls must be a reflection of the deeds we perform, and hopefully they will be based upon compassion and justice.
Shabbat shalom!
15 Wednesday Aug 2012
This coming Saturday evening (August 18) at nightfall is Rosh Hodesh Elul, the first day of the Hebrew month of Elul, the month that precedes the High Holidays. From the first of Elul to Yom Kippur is exactly 40 days, the same period of time that Moses spent on Mount Sinai communing with God and receiving Torah.
Tradition beckons us during these 40 days beginning Saturday night to “turn” and “return” in a process called t’shuvah, the central theme of the High Holiday season. The goal of t’shuvah is to return to our truest selves, to God, Torah, Jewish tradition, community, family, and friends. It requires us to make amends, to apologize for wrongs committed and seek forgiveness, to forgive when approached by others seeking the same.
As we prepare to enter Elul, I share a prayer written by Rabbi Zalman Schacter-Shalomi called “T’shuvah – Coming Back Around” (All Breathing Life Adores Your Nam e –At the Interface Between Poetry and Prayer, with a Forward by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner and Edited by Michael L. Kagan, published by Gaon Books, 2011, page 97):
“A year has gone by, / I say with a sigh – / O Lord I did not progress. / Your Torah not learned, / Your Mitzvot not earned, / This I am forced to confess.
I undertake / This to remake / My life anew to fashion. / So help, me please, / From sin to cease / And only to You / Give my passion.
I seek Your light, / I need Your aid. / Without Your joy / I am afraid. / Heal me God / In body and in soul.
Please, good God, / Pour out Your blessing, / That in Your sight / We’ll be progressing. / O Lord above, / Let us feel Your love / And perceive You, / Our souls caressing.
May we not be / Disappointed / In waiting for ben David / Anointed. / With Your open hand, / Bless our Holy Land / And our leaders / Whom we have appointed.”
09 Thursday Aug 2012
A word can link worlds, as the name of our portion, Ekev, does this week.
V’haya ekev tishm’un – “And if you listen/hear/heed/obey these statutes, observe and do them” (Deuteronomy 7:12) then you will enjoy bounty, security and progeny.
The word ekev here is translated “if,” and it appears instead of the more common Hebrew word im. The word ekev also appears in the stories of the Binding of Isaac (Genesis 22:18) and in the times of famine when our forebears were forced to leave the land of Israel (Genesis 26:1).
Why? What is the significance of this little word?
Ekev has the same Hebrew three-letter root that is in Jacob’s name Yaakov. As Jacob was being born he held the “heel” (an alternative meaning of ekev) of his brother Esau.
Rashi says that ekev in our verse refers to “light mitzvot” that a person “tramples with his heels.” Rabbi Robert Rhodes has written that “The promise of divine bounty depends on how we use the underside of the foot and what we crush underneath. God is listening to the noise our feet make as they step on the little things that seem unimportant but are the real stuff of life – commandments that appear to be of little value and principles of ethics [that] people [commonly] violate.”
Rabbi Michael Curasik noted this very week on his on-line “Torah Talk” that the heel (ekev) relates to “turning” because the heel turns 90 degrees from the leg, pointing us towards t’shuvah (“turn”, “return”), the Jewish pre-occupation during the High Holiday season that is fast approaching.
Also, in this first verse of our Parashat Ekev appears another key word – tishm’un (meaning, “listen/hear/heed/or obey”).
What is the significance of ekev and tishm’un appearing together?
Of all the five senses, the closest one to revelation is hearing. The people heard God’s voice at Mount Sinai (Exodus 19:16, 18-19). Elijah heard the kol d’mamah dakah (“the still small voice” – 1 K 19:12) on Mount Carmel. We are commanded to “hear” (tishm’un) the statutes (Deuteronomy 7:12).
My wife Barbara and I recently returned from 5 days at Lake Tahoe. Each day we took long walks along mountain paths and through forests. It was at times so very quiet and serene, and through this quiet we heard so very clearly the singing birds, scampering chipmunks, rustling wind, running streams, and buzzing hornets. We felt physically alive and spiritually high, an easy melding of body and soul, blending the magnificent environment with the unifying metaphysical world.
Rebbe Nachman of Bratslav emphasized the principle of hak’balah (i.e. “parallelism” or “correspondence.” See Anatomy of the Soul, translator Chaim Kramer, publ. Breslov, p. 15); “as above, so below; as below, so above.” In truth all is one – echad! There is no distinction between body and soul.
Making pilgrimage and listening are keys to religious quest. The prophet heard the call and walked in God’s ways. Mystics wandered through forests and intuited the longings of plants and brush, of trees and flowers, mountains and rocks all reaching out towards their heavenly source.
Not only in such serene settings is spiritual/physical oneness possible. Rabbi Heschel famously prayed with his feet when he marched with Dr. King from Selma to Montgomery. Many of us too have marched for peace and to raise awareness of HIV/AIDS, breast and uterine cancers, and genocide in Rwanda, Darfur, Sudan, and the Congo.
Communion with God happens in many ways, here, in the mountains and in the city streets.
The month of Elul commences in 8 days on Saturday evening, August 18. At that time, ekev, we Jews are called to begin our turning and returning to our true selves, to family and community, to tradition, Torah, faith and God, all for the purpose of infusing holiness into our lives and the world, that we might become, one and all, Godly Jews.
That is the Jewish business! Nothing more and nothing less.
Let our feet walk and let us listen.
Shabbat shalom.
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