I first met Gd in the woods. He surprised me in the pre-dawn, deep in the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee. First was the stillness. My pupils dilated as the sky began to glow. It grew darker between the trees. Birdsong burst from the woods around me as the sun rose, and I knew I was not alone.

Even now I long to greet the dawn. To say seder korbanot in the dark. Sing songs of praise as the hillside emerges under the pale sky. Gd’s malchut is never so clear to me as when no mundane concern precedes its acceptance. And the quiet of the morning is the ideal vessel to receive my heart’s outpouring in prayer.

The vatikin taught us to that the moment the sun breaks the horizon is the time to connect the redemptive consciousness of Gd’s kingship with the act of prayer (שיסמוך גאולה לתפילה). When Ulah went up to Jerusalem, he was told to seek out Rav Bruna and greet him in public because he was a great man. When he tied together redemption and prayer, his mouth was filled with laughter the whole day[1]. Was Rav Bruna’s joy a physiological response to the dawn or consciously generated psycho-spiritual reality?

We live in a built environment. Walking the streets, we see the works of our own hands. Waking in the woods, we are surrounded by other. Liberating. And terrifying. There is a level of experience not commonly found under the glow of fluorescent lights. Four days in the woods will put you in touch with your body’s rhythm, the beat of the world. What could be more joyous?

But Rav Bruna wasn’t praised for being a backpacker. Nor had his society yet paved creation. His laughter came from a more essential point of connection.

Prayer is an act of alignment with Gd’s deepest will for creation. The shaping of self into a vessel for its fulfillment. [2]

Gd’s kingship is found in every manifestation of creation. Redemption is the joining of these particulars in response to His will. Prayer which flows from this consciousness evokes the wholeness of Gd’s vision for creation. This is the source of joy.

So it is no surprise that one who harnesses the link between night and day, who experiences the consciousness of creation as it rises with the sun, will rejoice. May we all merit to tie the pieces to the whole and may our prayers bring redemption, speedily and in its time.

Parshat Mishpatim – The greatest after show party of all time.

. וְאֵלֶּה, הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים, אֲשֶׁר תָּשִׂים, לִפְנֵיהֶם
“Now these are the laws which you shall set before them…”[1]

Have you ever felt the anti-climax after a big event that you were very invested in?

Looking back I remember the year- long build up to my bar mitzvah. I can picture the hard work I put in to prepare for reading from the Torah, and of course I remember the party that followed and the guests who flew in from abroad.  But I also remember the day after. The house emptied itself of guests, and it was back to school the next day. Far too quickly for my liking.

Parashat Mishpatim provides some wonderful insights into what the Ribono Shel HaOlam prescribes to Moshe to help counter the inevitable come down which hits Am Yisrael the day after receiving the Torah.

Indeed, the connection between Parshat Yitro and Mishpatim is something that is made clear by many of the great Torah commentators.

Rashi quotes midrash Tanchuma in the name of Rabbi Abahu in the name of Rabbi Yossi ben Zimra, saying ‘that anytime we see the word אלה  it is to cancel out what was just said, and anytime we see ואלה it is to add to what was previously stated.’[2] This focus on the first word of our parasha stresses the connection between the experience of receiving the Torah and the detailed mitzvoth laid down in Parshat Mishpatim.

The 15^th Century Italian commentator Sforno goes a step further. He points to the vav ha Chibur, the connecting vav of ואלה. He calls it the hook from the previous parasha, specifically from the last of the 10 commandments  לא תחמוד  do not covet anything of your neighbour’s.  Sforno says the natural place to continue would be to speak about the neighbor in order that we better keep the commandment. He characterizes the content of Mishpatim as ידע אדם מהו כל אשר לריעך  the guide book about one’s neighbor. Indeed Mishpatim is all about the ‘other’ and how we interact with him.

Matan Torah is often described as the wedding between Hashem and Am Yisrael. At a wedding this week I heard the mseder kidushin, Rav Millstone, relate the connection between Matan Torah and parashat Mishpatim to the way a husband and wife build a home. Just as parashat Mishpatim follows Matan Torah – the real work of building a home is not found in the big events, but rather in the details in how we live life each day. The contrast between the big glitzy moments and the mundane details seems stark, but both are incomplete without the other.

I merited to learn from Rav Tzi Berlin of Yeshivat Hakotel that it is possible to see the parshayot of the Torah in pairs each comprised of a parsha which represents כלליות  (general ideas) and one which represents פרטיות  (finer details). In our case we can see that Yitro brings the big idea, Gd’s mind blowing revelation in the world and in contrast Parashat Mishpatim gets down into the nitty gritty details of slaves, damages and compensation, oxes, donkeys and sheep, borrowing,  giving false witness, lost property, the agricultural cycle and shemita etc. Parshat Yitro comes to tell us there is a G-d. But parashat Mishpatim tells us G-d is only truly present in the world if we act in accordance with His will.

The Talmud[3] quotes an instance when Hillel the elder is asked by a prospective convert to teach him the whole Torah while he stood on one leg. He replies: ‘That which is hateful unto you do not do to your neighbor. This is the whole of the Torah, the rest is commentary. Go forth and study.’

Forgive me, but isn’t Hashem the main point of Judaism? We don’t get up in the morning and go to bed at night saying, ‘be a good neighbour’ we say with all of our hearts “Shema Yisrael, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is one.”  Didn’t Hillel know this?  How can any Rabbi condense Judaism down into one line that doesn’t mention G-d?

Maybe the answer lies here in Parashat Mishpatim. It is an answer for anyone who is down in the dumps, reeling in the come down from the great party at Mount Sinai.  It’s true that our main purpose in the world is to proclaim Hashem’s name, but that won’t be achieved by walking around screaming the shema all day long. Hashem’s presence in the world relies on us to express His will, His goodness and kedusha through the way we live our lives.

We start and end our day with the Shema, but what we actually do with our day is the continuation of the shema.    Rashi explains Hashem’s words: ‘Place these words before you.’ He says, don’t just recite them a few times, lay them out in front of you like a table set to eat.” The extent to which we are familiar with the mitzvoth Hashem commanded us, is the extent to which the great party of Mount Sinai can continue. It continues through us, the people we decide to be and the way we act towards one another.

http://www.haaretz.com/jewish-world/the-transcendental-power-of-music-1.412422

Know Before Whom You Stand

As he lay dying, R. Eliezer taught his students the path of life which leads to eternity – ‘when you pray, know before whom you stand[1].’

How can I walk such a path? If I must know Gd before I pray, I’ll never start. If I am to know Gd through prayer, where do I begin? Everything I’ve known that I shouldn’t have, everything I don’t know but should flashes through my mind. Know? I? How do I know anything? Who am I?

The Rambam[2] says in order to pray, I must clear the heart of thoughts and fill it with Gd. Awesome. And terrifying. Reb Chaim HaLevi[3] explains that awareness of standing before Gd in prayer is not an aspiration, it’s a requirement. It is the act itself (עצם מעשה תפילה). If Gd is not real, if Gd is not present before me, I am not praying[4].

Why would R. Eliezer give me such guidance? Is Reb Chaim telling me I’ve never really prayed? The power of high expectations is infinite, but the danger of the unachievable is real as well. If I break on the rocks of lofty vision, have I realized my goal?

The Rama[5] tells me – the first step on the path of life is ‘I have placed Gd before me continually.’[6] From the moment I wake up until I sleep in my grave. As I eat, work and pray. I must constantly locate Gd, and myself. I must triangulate on the high points of experience and cut across the contours of my soul. If I know where I stand, I am closer to Gd.

To be in the Presence I must know before whom I stand[7]. Before questions of identity. Before awareness of imperfection. Before any Name.  This is the path that I can follow to eternity. Stripping away my particulars by the light of essence, I come close to that which precedes the question. And before there are questions, there is only knowing.

Keter

In the journey from enslavement to freedom, from the bonds of Mitzrayim to a life of unfettered flourishing, Parshat Beshalach paves the way through potentially treacherous waters. Immediately following the splitting of the Reed Sea, their successful passage, and the drowning of their oppressors, Bnei Yisrael break out into exuberant song, “the song of the sea,” which is part of our daily morning liturgy. The midrash explains that the angels also wanted to sing in celebration, but God rebuked them – “My creatures are drowning and you mean to sing!?”[1]

In Pirkei Avot, the tractate of sage maxims, Shmuel haKatan distills this principle in quoting Proverbs, “do not rejoice at the downfall of your enemy”[2]. And what premise is necessary to rejoice at the downfall or failure of another? It is that sense of the person as totally other, as one who is in competition with me. Whose essence is other than my own and whose existence threatens my advancement. As if God intended only for me to be here and not he. This is a fundamental error in perception which betrays the deeper truth of our nature as being in fact arevim zeh la’zeh[3], interincluded and part of one another.

Rebbe Meir[4] expresses a common sentiment in the face of frustration with others: “I wish they would just die.” The implication is that this would end his problems. Rebbe Meir is emphatically rebuked and corrected by his wife, Beruria: you must distinguish between the people who oppose you and the deeds they do. Meaning, do not reduce them to their actions, and in doing so lose sight of their Godly essence and, therefore, your shared core.

Rather, Beruria says, pray that they repent and return, that their errant ways, but not they themselves, cease from the earth. This approach reflects a deep understanding that we cannot reach satisfaction by closing off others, rather we must be responsive to them and work for their realignment with their own higher nature. In so doing we align with our own Self of which others are a part.

It is in this spirit, as we learned with Rav Daniel Kohn this week, that Shmuel haKatan (the small), established the 19th bracha of the Shmoneh Esrei/Amida, the bracha of the minim. The minim are others (or parts of ourselves) who seek power over, seek to exploit resources for themselves. They slip into fearful hoarding, acquisitiveness and territorial protection of self.

We learn the rectification to this errant orientation from the sun and the moon during Creation, where it has its origins. The Torah first describes the two great luminaries, created as equals. It then names them larger and smaller.[5] The midrash[6] explains that upon their creation together the moon questioned Hashem. How will we would rule together, “two kings cannot use (mishtamshim) one crown (keter)?” This question is borne of the ego consciousness. Yours or mine. It is the desire to be on top, and to control in order to affirm one’s tenuous sense of self. This is the consciousness of Pharoah. And the punishment for her desire to be on top was to become the maor ha’katan, the smaller luminary.

The tikkun for this mistaken outlook is to be found in the same place as the error. It is in re-accessing the keter (crown), the non-dual consciousness. More essential and primary than the self-generated sense of you and me as separate entities. From the keter, all is One.

Feeling compassion for the moon in her diminished (katan) state, Hashem sought to console her. He compared her to others who will be known as katan, including King David and Shmuel haKatan. In doing so, Hashem teaches the lesson of the greatness to be found in smallness, in humility. Humility, the Baal Shem Tov says, is the active awareness that everything is Divine.

Moshe is the paragon and paradigm of this humble awareness. In its light, the need to dominate others is an inferiority complex, literally a small-man complex (Pharaoh). He replaces it with servant leadership.  The mishtamshim (users) become meshamshim (servants), we shift from possessive using to serving and sharing. From the approach of “ain’t big enough for the both of us” to an understanding that we can in fact work together. An experience of me and you as two limbs of the same Body, here not for ourselves but in service of the larger Organism.

In this new light of keter, we see the moon for its merit of reflecting light. Whatever comes her way she passes on for the benefit of others, without hoarding anything. She no longer fears and fights the dissolution of a vulnerable and false sense of self. It is just this orientation for which Shmuel haKatan established birkat haMinim, the 19th bracha of the Amida. The shmoneh esrei (18) retains its name and its purpose, to cultivate ourselves as vessels to bring Life in its fullness into the world. To establish the malchut of the shechina and make manifest the heavenly kingdom in our earthly reality. We impede this possibility when we fall prey to insecurities and a false sense that power and acquisition will save, satisfy, and make us secure. Shmuel haKatan, in his greatness, established the 19th bracha to realign us with our deeper keter, our nature as interdependent, interincluded beings who live out their fullness in partnership rather than territoriality, hierarchy, and competition.

The Gemara teaches that we are to stand in the shmoneh esrei with our legs together, as if one leg, in imitation of the angels. The invitation is to become like angels, and in doing so, learn the same lesson they learned from God’s rebuke. That all people are valuable and we are only complete when we learn to accept the other, even those we most dislike. Standing with our legs together, the body forms a “ו” (‘vav’), the letter of connection and the simplest stroke of a brush. All is One.

Special thanks to Rav Daniel Kohn and Rav James Jacobson-Maisels for lessons learned and incorporated herein.

Don’t Hold back

“All my bones say, Gd who is like unto you?”[1]

I pray on my feet. I like to bounce and sway with my words. The Zohar[2] says that this is because my soul is cut from the Eternal Flame. The same source of energy which lights the Torah ignites my body’s response to prayer.

But do I really let loose in shul? Am I even allowed? Do I really want to?[3]

The Sages say that calling ‘amen. y’he shmei rabbah’ with all your כח tears up all judgment against you and opens all the gates. Rashi says this כח  is strength of the heart, cultivated intentionality, purity of inner voice. The Tosephot argue. [4] Real כח moves your body. It raises your voice and makes you shake.

Should I keep a lid on it? If I let loose with a mighty declaration of Gd’s Great Name[5], what will happen? I promise you, I won’t be the same after. Will I be red faced or shining? The Rishonim tell me don’t hold back. Either way, they don’t argue. How could clarity of heart not find expression in elevation of voice?

The Mishna Brurah says – not too loud.[6] In his saintliness he worries that others may come to sin. They won’t see your heart, or the shine on your face. Your sudden outburst will jar them from thoughts of later. They might חלילה even laugh. And then you’ve brought desecration down to His name.

Better to stay in sync. Our souls are all davening to the same beat anyway. Let me bounce and sway, and magnify Gd in my heart. But the voice will find its moment. May we all merit to be there, in this lifetime.

Shabbat Shalom

Mike

[The Rama says that those who are careful will always move as they learn Torah or pray[7]]

“R Abba asked R Shimon why is it that all the nations don’t move, but when Am Yisrael are involved with Torah …they can’t stand still? He replied … because the neshamot of Israel are cut from the the Holy burning lamp, the lamp which which from the moment it was lit from the supernal Torah it is not quiet even for a moment…like the light of the flame which holds to the wick but flickers back and forth….and it is written the lamp of Gd is the soul of man….” Zohar haKodesh Pinchas 218

http://www.jewishreviewofbooks.com/publications/detail/how-goodly-are-your-tents-o-tel-aviv-a-symposium