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Vayishlah: Crossing the River

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crossing-the-riverMany people are discouraged from even beginning a spiritual journey because they think it needs that huge leap of faith. They cannot see themselves reaching a degree of religious commitment which to them seems otherworldly.

-Rabbi Yossy Goldman
“A Ladder to Heaven”

Worshipping G-d in a foreign land is apparently very difficult. “Whoever lives outside the land it is as if they are worshipping idols” (Ketuvot 110b).

-Rabbi Jay Kelman
“Vayeze: Searching for G-d”
both articles found at
Hasidic Waves blogspot

That same night he arose, and taking his two wives, his two maidservants, and his eleven children, he crossed the ford of the Jabbok. After taking them across the stream, he sent across all his possessions. Jacob was left alone.

–Genesis 32:23-25 (JPS Tanakh)

I actually hadn’t planned to write a commentary on this week’s Torah Portion Vayishlah but apparently my intentions don’t always dictate what I end up doing. Actually, the first two commentaries I quoted above are more related to the previous week’s Torah reading where Jacob leaves Canaan to escape his brother Esau and becomes an indentured servant to Laban, all for the sake of winning Rachel for a wife.

But if worshiping God in an alien land is like worshiping idols, what is it like to forsake that foreign land and return to the Land of Promise; the Land God was to give to the descendants of Jacob generations hence?

What is it like to return to community with God’s people in the church?

It ain’t easy.

No, it’s not like I’ve been “worshiping idols” in a “foreign land,” but we all cross thresholds and transverse boundaries.

“For you have wrestled with G-d and man, and have prevailed.”

–Genesis 32:29

In ancient Near Eastern understanding, the crossing of a river was a symbol of new beginnings and a new start – a sort of rebirth. That is why there is a purposeful connection with the name of the river (Yabok) and the word vaye’avek – to wrestle/struggle. It was here, at the river of a new beginning in Jacob’s life that he also received a new name – and a new identity – Israel.

-Rabbi Joshua Brumbach
“Wrestling with the Divine”
Yinon Blog

I suppose moving an unmovable rock could be considered a “new beginning” but in reality, it’s just one step in a process. Sort of like how Rabbi Goldman describes it:

There is a ladder, a spiritual route clearly mapped out for us; a route that needs to be traversed step-by-step, one rung at a time. The pathway to Heaven is gradual, methodical and eminently manageable.

Many people are discouraged from even beginning a spiritual journey because they think it needs that huge leap of faith. They cannot see themselves reaching a degree of religious commitment which to them seems otherworldly. And yet, with the gradual step-by-step approach, one finds that the journey can be embarked upon and that the destination aspired to is actually not in outer space.

One way some Jewish sages look at Jacob’s Ladder is as the process of prayer. I’ve also mentioned prayer recently, and all of this seems to fit together. Learning to pray is a process but it is also part of a larger process of learning to draw closer to God. A relationship with God, in some ways, is like any other relationship in that its development is not linear. There are closer times and farther apart times. There are sudden rushes of heat and long periods of icy cold. Then there is just tons and tons of lukewarm.

Jacob's-Ladder1Jacob was terrified of the changes he would have to undergo and for good reason, both in leaving Canaan and in returning. In each case, he was facing the unknown. He left Canaan with nothing, and returned with a fortune and a family. Then, he had a personal encounter with God and did not escape it unscathed. As Derek Leman said recently, “The unthinkable can happen. The faith of God’s people will not prevent hard times.” Just because you’re doing God’s will or believe you are, doesn’t mean bad stuff isn’t going to happen.

Where did we get the idea that a life of holiness was also a life of safety?

And yet a life of faith isn’t always immediately fatal, either. Jacob lived to a good old age and died in comfort after blessing his sons, though he died in an alien land, so perhaps worshiping God there was as “dimmed” for him in Egypt as it was in Haran (although God did promise He would go down into Egypt with Jacob – Gen. 46:1-4).

In returning to church, some might say I have returned to the “Holy Land” and others would say I was “worshiping idols.” I suppose both opinions are extreme and reality is somewhere in the middle. But in the middle (and everywhere else), there is God.

Do not forsake me. I am crossing a river. I am wrestling with I don’t know what. I am carrying that which belongs to me. I can’t see what is up ahead.

What do you think is a rabbi’s fantasy? A guy walking into my office and saying, “Rabbi, I want to become ‘frum’ (fully observant), now tell me what I must do”?

Is that what I lie awake dreaming of? And if it did happen, do you think I would throw the book at him and insist he did every single mitzvah from that moment on? Never!

Why not? Because a commitment like that is usually here today and gone tomorrow. Like the popular saying goes, “Easy come, easy go.” I’m afraid I haven’t had such wonderful experiences with the “instant Jew” types.

The correct and most successful method of achieving our Jewish objectives is the slow and steady approach. Gradual, yet consistent. As soon as one has become comfortable with one mitzvah, it is time to start on the next, and so on and so forth.

Then, through constant growth, slowly but surely we become more knowledgeable, committed, fulfilled and happy in our faith.

-Rabbi Goldman

yeshiva1While this commentary is directed as Jews, with just a few adjustments, it can fit the rest of us as well. In pursuing any endeavor, there’s a desire to jump from “A” to “Z” as quickly as possible, but even if it can be done, this quick hop, skip, and jump method might not be the best. Getting there too quickly doesn’t allow us to experience what we need to learn along the way by taking each step slowly and deliberately. Of course, there’s also a matter of direction as Rabbi Goldman tells us.

When my father was in yeshiva, his teacher once asked the following question: “If two people are on a ladder, one at the top and one on the bottom, who is higher?” The class thought it was a pretty dumb question — until the wise teacher explained that they were not really capable of judging who was higher or lower until they first ascertained in which direction each was headed.

If the fellow on top was going down, but the guy on the bottom was going up, then conceptually, the one on the bottom was actually higher.

And so my friends, it doesn’t really matter what your starting point is or where you are at on the ladder of religious life. As long as you are moving in the right direction, as long as you are going up, you will, please G-d, succeed in climbing the heavenly heights.

Like Jacob’s ladder, it is not only important to make sure that we carefully place our hands and feet upon every rung, but that we verify we are traveling in the direction that will lead us higher. Like “Jacob’s river,” we must know when in our “new beginning,” we are leaving God’s desired place for us, and when we’re returning, for God sometimes sends us in either direction. How much we have, what we’ve accomplished, and what hardships we must endure after the crossing won’t always tell us where we are and where we’re going. We can only know by keeping our eye on the path…and the goal.

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32 Days: The Rock Moved

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One night, a man was sleeping in his cabin when suddenly his room was filled with the light and the Creator appeared.

The Creator told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin. The Creator explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might.

The man did the same, day after day. For many years he toiled from sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might. Each night the man returned to his cabin sore, and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain…

Since the man was showing signs of discouragement, the Adversary decided to enter the picture by placing thoughts into the man’s weary mind:

“You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn’t budged. Why kill yourself over this? You can never move it,” thus, giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure. These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man. “Why kill myself over this?” he thought. “I’ll just put in my time, giving just the minimum effort; and that will be good enough.” And that is what he planned to do, until one day he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Creator. “Creator,” he said, “I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock by half a millimeter. What is wrong? Why am I failing?”

The Creator responded compassionately, “My friend, when I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push.” “Now you come to me with your strength spent, thinking that you have failed. But is that really so?

Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled, your back is sinewy and brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition you have grown much, and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet you haven’t moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith in My wisdom. This you have done. I, my friend, will now move the rock.” At times, when we hear a word from the Creator, we tend to use our own intellect to decipher what He wants, when actually what the Creator wants is just obedience and faith in Him…. By all means, exercise the faith that moves mountains, but know that it is still the Creator who moves the mountains.

“Push”
Story found at
Morning Story and Dilbert

The end of the story reminds everyone to “push” or to “pray-until-something-happens” as an act of faith, but frankly, that seemed a little too “cute” the way it was expressed, so I truncated the original text into the quote above.

That said, I know exactly how it feels like to push and push against an immovable object and see absolutely no result. I have often felt as if making a difference is impossible and that my life is a failure.

Just watching the latest situation in Israel and how the world press and most of the nations on our planet are castigating Israel for defending itself against bloodthirsty terrorists…um, excuse me, “courageous freedom fighters battling their oppressors,” is enormously frustrating. And yet there’s not one single thing I can do about it. Every time I speak out, usually in some social networking venue, in support of Israel, only a few like-minded “religious nuts” are supportive. The rest of the world is either strangely silent or venomously outspoken against Israel and against anyone who would support her and the Jewish people.

It’s the same in so many other areas of my life. As a self-avowed Christian, I’m used to taking plenty of “heat” from atheists who believe all manner of terrible things about me because of my faith. However, I also recently witnessed an online conversation taking Christians to task for our history of supersessionism against Jews. Granted, this is a valid observation, but to the speaker, it didn’t seem to make a difference who the Christian was or if they had renounced supersessionism. Further, the Jewish person in question is “Messianic” or a believer in Jesus (Yeshua) as the Messiah. While most Messianic Jews I know are friendly toward “Judaically-aware” Christians or “Post-supersessionistic” Christians, apparently there are some who aren’t particularly tolerant of anyone who is a non-Jewish believer.

There’s not a darn thing I can do about that, either.

I skipped going to church last Sunday for a number of reasons not the least of which was my concern over how I would be received again at Sunday school class given my being particularly outspoken (and embarrassing myself in the process) the previous week. It’s now Thursday and Sunday morning is just a few days away. In trying to project myself into the weeks and months ahead, unless something dramatic happens one way or the other, I don’t know that there’s anything I can do to “install” myself as an accepted participant in church, either.

The rock is the rock, after all. It’s big and it’s heavy, and in all the time I’ve been pushing against it…years and years and years, it hasn’t budged an inch.

But according to the anonymous storyteller, it doesn’t have to. My job is to push, or rather, to pray, without necessarily expecting or receiving a response or a result. The “push” acronym says “pray until something happens.” But what if nothing happens?

OK, clearly something recently happened but I wasn’t particularly praying about it or even thinking in that direction. It was just one of those “out of a clear blue sky” events. On the other hand, I’ve also recently said that there are miracles that only happen when we cooperate with God and actively participate in the miracle. That means do something. It also means that one day, I may push against the rock and feel it miraculously move!

Frankly, that kind of scares me. I live in a world of expectations. I expect the Sun to rise in the east and set in the west. I expect to go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning. I expect a particular routine for my days. Pushing the rock and not having it move, frustrating as it may be, is also expected. If it moves, suddenly, I’m out of control and off-balance; likely to fall on my face (not like that hasn’t happened before). I don’t know what to pray for more, that the rock moves or that it doesn’t move.

Strange, I know, but remember, I don’t like change…even when it’s beneficial and necessary.

But God makes changes according to His will and not my will and my only job is to push against the rock. If it doesn’t move, I push at the start of the day and stop at the end. The rock is just the rock and it doesn’t move. If I push and it does move, then it moves, I lose my balance and fall on my face. Embarrassing to be sure, but assuming it doesn’t hurt too much, the worse that happens is that my face gets dirty and I have to get up again and figure out what happened. What did God change and why? What do I have to do with it and what should I do now? Once I figure out what I’m supposed to do, will I have the courage to do it?

Strange, I know, but remember, I don’t like change.

Even when I ask for it.

He is my God, my living redeemer.
Rock of my affliction in time of trouble…

-from Adon Olam

So the rock has moved. I need to move too.

 

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36 Days: Backing Away from the High Dive

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For the most part they were willing to support the state and to partake of the cultural bounty of the Hellenistic world, but they were unwilling to surrender their identity. They wished to “belong” but at the same time to remain distinct.

Shaye J.D. Cohen
Chapter 2: Jews and Gentiles
Social: Jews and Gentiles, pg 37
from the book
From the Maccabees to the Mishnah, 2nd Ed

This statement of Cohen’s describing the early diaspora Jews who were living in Greek society also reminds me of some halachically, ethnically, and cultural Jews who have come to faith in Yeshua (Jesus) as Messiah and who “belong” to the “body of believers,” “but at the same time (wish) to remain distinct” as Jews. Not an easy task, considering how both mainstream Christianity and the Christian Hebrew Roots offshoot movement want to “equalize” the Jews by making them like the rest of the Gentile community (in the former case, by making all Jews give up their Jewish religious and cultural practices, and in the latter case, by requiring all Gentiles take up Jewish religious and cultural practices).

But that’s not the main thing I want to talk about right now.

I had a most interesting dream last night. It went something like this:

I was sitting in a chair in some sort of waiting area at church with a bunch of other people. I think we were waiting to get into the Sanctuary so services could begin. I was looking through a notebook where I was trying to sort out some sort of theological puzzle. I had lots of notes written in pencil from the day before. I thought I had pretty well figured out what the answer was, but a fellow who knew what I was working on said I got it all wrong. I tried to explain my point of view, but I couldn’t find the right words.

As we were talking, another man approached me. I was still sitting down and had to look up at him. He wanted to invite me to a different Sunday school class than the one I had been attending and asked if I had a “Jesus of Nazareth Bible,” whatever that is. I looked in my right hand and was embarrassed to discover that I was holding the Jewish New Testament Commentary by David H. Stern, which I knew would never be accepted in a traditional Christian Bible study (and I thought I had given up Stern’s works many years ago).

The book was filled with a lot of loose pieces of paper that contained many of my notes. I guess it was good enough for him (though he seemed displeased), because the man told me to stand up and follow him. I looked down and discovered I was barefoot. By my feet were a pair of socks and the sandals I use to put something on my feet when I want to step out on my back patio for a few minutes (not exactly appropriate for church).

That’s when I woke up. My daughter has to be at work at 5 a.m. on Sundays, so I have to get up fairly early to drive her there.

That’s also when I knew I wouldn’t go to church today. It’s been a really active holiday week and weekend and I feel like I need just a little bit of space for a while.

But I can’t go back to sleep and I’m too tired to do much else, so I decided to write. I haven’t actually written anything for days since my family has been visiting, so I feel a little like an animal that has spent too much time in a cramped kennel. The gate has been opened and I’m able to run around in the park again. Feels good, but I wish my brain wasn’t full of cotton candy and iron filings.

In order to maintain their distinctiveness and identity, most Jews of the ancient world sought to separate themselves from their gentile neighbors. In the cities of the East, they formed their own autonomous ethnic communities, each with its own officers, institutions, and regulations. Some cities, notably Alexandria and Rome, had neighborhoods inhabited mostly by Jews. (These were not “ghettos” but “ethnic neighborhoods.”) Following the lead of Ezra, the Jews of the Second Temple period grew more and more intolerant of marriages with foreigners.

-Cohen, “Social: Jews and Gentiles”

I’ve written before that I’ve suspected the schism between Christianity and Judaism occurred fairly early, perhaps within a hundred years or less of the beginning of Paul’s “mission to the Gentiles.” But my opinion has been rudely ridiculed by members of the Hebrew Roots movement who are heavily invested in the notion that early Gentile and Jewish “Christians” were completely equal and uniform members of a single religious movement following Jesus of Nazareth, with the Gentiles adopting all of the Jewish cultural and religious practices.

But according to Cohen, particularly the Jews in the diaspora (where Paul was doing much of his work bringing the good news of the Messiah to the Gentiles) were still strongly driven to maintain their ethnic, cultural, and national identity as Jews. Thus, even the Jews who were involved in that early sect of Judaism called “the Way” were unlikely to surrender their unique identity to a non-Jewish population. In fact, the problem of how to integrate the non-Jewish people groups into a Jewish movement must have seemed an almost insurmountable task, both for the leaders of the Way (the Jerusalem Council) and for the Gentiles who were attracted to this form of Judaism. This is probably why the Acts 15 letter limited the requirements of Gentile disciples to just a few of the mitzvot.

The response of the Gentiles receiving the letter confirms that they neither needed or wanted to actually convert to Judaism (although there was an effort among other Jews to convert Gentiles to Judaism) and were overjoyed to become disciples of “the Christ” without having to be Jewish.

So when they were sent off, they went down to Antioch, and having gathered the congregation together, they delivered the letter. And when they had read it, they rejoiced because of its encouragement. And Judas and Silas, who were themselves prophets, encouraged and strengthened the brothers with many words.

–Acts 15:30-32 (ESV)

Cohen comments that Judaism wasn’t something that was thought to be easily accessed, and that even the Gentiles respected its exclusiveness:

Even those Greeks and Romans who despised Judaism respected its exclusiveness as an ancestral usage that the Jews themselves were not free to change.

Immediately following the above-quoted sentence, Cohen makes a statement that seems to also confirm those Christians (non-Jewish followers of the Way) who adopted some of the Jewish practices were treated remarkably different by the Roman authorities than their Jewish counterparts.

The Christians, too, were accused of atheism, and since they could not defend their refusal by appeal to ancestral custom, they were persecuted.

I want to write more about what all this means in terms of Jewish and Christian relationships today, especially relative to Messianic Judaism and Hebrew Roots, but my main emphasis for this “meditation” is my own issues in “integration,” specifically into the church.

While my parents were visiting for Thanksgiving, my mother and I talked about this issue (she’s been trying to encourage me in going to church). She mentioned that she had been born and raised in a Lutheran family and for most of her life, she didn’t really think much about what that meant. She worshiped as a Lutheran because that’s what she had always done. She married and raised two sons as a devout Lutheran, but even after we grew up and left home, and even after she and my Dad retired and relocated to Utah, she still didn’t think much about what being a Lutheran meant.

Then, when my Dad and Mom moved to Kanab and they had to look for a church (not too many Lutherans in that part of Southwestern Utah), she got involved in different groups and started to study the Bible and consider what her faith meant, particularly in the area of religious community. The same thing happened as they got older and moved from Kanab to St. George. Mom and Dad had to visit a number of churches and attend just about every service and activity the church had to begin to discover if they “fit in.” In part, through that process, their faith and understanding grew. To become part of something, you have to dive in all the way and only when you’re drowning in it, do you find out if you are part of it and it is part of you.

Unlike the Jewish people of ancient or modern times, I don’t have a distinct cultural, ethnic, and faith identity that defines who I am in terms of God. But church is a culture and an identity and to belong to church, that’s an identity I have to adopt. To adopt it, I have to be part of it in every sense of the word, not just popping in for a few hours on Sunday morning.

Frankly, I hate the idea, primarily because I hate having to change my behavior patterns that much. Like most people, I’m a creature of habit. I go to work at the same time each morning and I come home at the same time each evening. I have my routine and my comfortable activities. Being part of a community, especially if you’re trying to “break in,” means changing all that; it means change.

I hate change.

But what happens if I don’t change?

Spiritual slumps are a natural part of spiritual growth. There is a cycle that people go through when at times they feel closer to God and at times more distant. In the words of the Kabbalists, it is “two steps forward and one step back.” So although you feel you are slipping, know that this is a natural process. The main thing is to look at your overall progress (over months or years) and be able to see how far you’ve come!

This is actually God’s ingenious way of motivating us further. The sages compare this to teaching a baby how to walk. When the parent is holding on, the baby shrieks with delight and is under the illusion that he knows how to walk. Yet suddenly, when the parent lets go, the child panics, wobbles and may even fall.

At such times when we feel spiritually “down,” that is often because God is letting go, giving us the great gift of independence. In some ways, these are the times when we can actually grow the most. For if we can move ourselves just a little bit forward, we truly acquire a level of sanctity that is ours forever.

Here is a practical tool to help pull you out of the doldrums. The Sefer HaChinuch speaks about a great principle in spiritual growth: “The external awakens the internal.” This means that although we may not experience immediate feelings of closeness to God, eventually, by continuing to conduct ourselves in such a manner, this physical behavior will have an impact on our spiritual selves and will help us succeed. (A similar idea is discussed by psychologists who say: “Smile and you will feel happy.”)

That is the power of Torah commandments. Even if we may not feel like giving charity or praying at this particular moment, by having a “mitzvah” obligation to do so, we are in a framework to become inspired. At that point we can infuse that act of charity or prayer with all the meaning and lift it can provide. But if we’d wait until being inspired, we might be waiting a very long time.

“Spiritual Slump”
Ask the Rabbi
Aish.com

stop-timeThis metaphor doesn’t completely apply to me since I’m not Jewish and don’t have the same spiritual relationship to the Torah as a Jew. One of the things I regret about Christianity is that is eliminated the structure of the mitzvot for the “freedom” of grace. More’s the pity.

Part of me wants the next five weeks or so to zip by so that January 1st will roll around and I can completely and finally spiritually “slump,” thus avoiding change altogether. Then I just pull the plug on most of my Internet presence, step out of the blogosphere, and then what happens to me is between me and God, with no accountability to or commentary by other human beings (and no one in the family is going to care if I go to church or not apart from my Mom).

However, as I’ve been reminded, self-improvement seems to be an expectation of God.

The Chazon Ish (20th century Israel) described the level a person is potentially capable of attaining if he has a long term goal for self-improvement: “If a person constantly strives to improve his character traits, it is possible he will eventually reach a level that he no longer gets angry, will not feel hatred or resentment, will not take revenge nor bear a grudge, will not have ambitions of seeking honor, and will not desire mundane pleasures.”

Today, view every person you find difficult as your partner in character development. View every encounter as an opportunity to develop your positive qualities.

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Our Potential for Self-Improvement”
Daily Lift #645
Aish.com

I keep wondering if Jewish philosophy can ever be applied to a Christian, but a recent blog post quoting Max Lucado reminded me why I prefer Jewish writings over Christian commentaries:

If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.

If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.

He sends you flowers every spring.

He sends you a sunrise every morning.

Face it, friend – He is crazy about you!

God didn’t promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain; but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.

I’m sure Lucado is a wonderful human being, but reading his stuff for more than a few seconds gives me the same type of headache I get between my eyes as the last time I swallowed a mouthful of cotton candy.

I’m taking the day off of church. I think I’ll even take a nap now since the sky is finally getting lighter and I woke up at around 3:30 a.m. (It’s coming up on eight as I write this)

I much prefer Jewish teachings and wisdom, but Judaism isn’t my identity. As a disciple of Jesus, I’m considered a Christian, but so far, the thought of jumping into the deep end of the “church swimming pool” doesn’t seem appealing. I’ll sleep on it, read the church bulletin online later on today, and see if there’s some sort of class or activity I can take a dip into later on in the week.

Maybe.

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36 Days: Two Pockets in My Sunday Suit

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Rabbi Bunim of Pshis’cha said that everyone should have two pockets; one to contain, “I am but dust and ashes,” and the other to contain, “The world was created for my sake.” At certain times, we must reach into one pocket; at other times, into the other. The secret of correct living comes from knowing when to reach into which.

Humility is the finest of all virtues and is the source of all admirable character traits. Yet, if a person considers himself to be utterly insignificant, he may not care about his actions. He may think, “What is so important about what I do? It makes no difference, so long as I do not harm anyone.” Such feelings of insignificance can cause immoral behavior.

When a person does not feel that his actions are significant, he either allows impulses to dominate his behavior or slouches into inactivity. At such a time, he must reach into the pocket of personal grandeur and read: “I am specially created by God. He has a mission for me, that only I can achieve. Since this is a Divine mission, the entire universe was created solely to enable me to accomplish this particular assignment.”

When presidents and premiers delegate missions to their officials, those officials feel a profound sense of responsibility to carry out the mission in the best possible manner. How much more so when we are commissioned by God!

Today I shall…

keep in mind both the humbleness and the grandeur of the human being.

-Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski
“Growing Each Day, Kislev 1″
Aish.com

I cited this exact quote from Rabbi Twerski just a week ago but it seems appropriate to do so again. As you read this “meditation” it is Sunday morning, but given the Thanksgiving holiday and having my parents in town, I’m writing this several days in advance. As it is right now, I feel as if I will attend church again on Sunday and attend the same Sunday school class, having come (however tentatively) to terms with my failing grade in community.

If only I could continually recall the rather useful piece of information provided by Rabbi Bunim of Pshis’cha about having two pockets and reaching into one or the other as need be. I suspect that we all would be better people if we heeded such sage advice. But in attempting to balance out my character traits, I seem to have stumbled upon a greater and more “multi-dimensional” human problem.

When G‑d created the world, He created both good and evil. After these two elements came into being, they came before G‑d and asked for their respective missions. “Spread the light of goodness and kindness in the world,” G‑d instructed the Good Side. “This is achieved by making people aware of their Creator.”

G‑d then instructed the Evil Side to combat the good, thereby giving people the choice and opportunity to overcome adversity. The Evil Side asked, “But will I be able to do my job? Will people really listen to me?” When the Creator responded in the affirmative, the Evil Side asked to be told its name. “You will be called the Serpent,” said the Creator.

Upon hearing this, the Serpent became worried. He was afraid that his name alone would frighten people away and doom his mission. “Have no fear,” reassured G‑d, “you will succeed.”

Indeed, the Serpent was successful in misleading Eve to sin, convincing her to eat from the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden and to share her sin with Adam. After Adam had eaten from the same fruit, G‑d banished the pair from Eden, and thus began all of life’s challenges.

However, when Adam and Eve realized their sin, they repented completely and managed to atone for their folly. Seeing the holiness that now permeated their lives, the Serpent came before the Creator again. “Destroy me,” he implored. “I will never be able to succeed now!”

-Rabbi Yossy Gordon
“Sly Arrogance”
Chabad.org

Christians aren’t used to imagining “evil” as a sympathetic character and we certainly don’t imagine evil as a creation of God (and a useful one at that). I suppose that’s one of the reasons we Christians have a difficult time truly grasping how Jews think and conceive of God, the Bible, and everything.

As Rabbi Gordon proceeds to tell a tale attributed to Rabbi DovBer of Lubavitch (the “Mitteler Rebbe,” 1773–1827), we see the “identity” of the evil inclination continue to be metamorphosed by God as circumstances required.

From the failed serpent, evil was transformed into the Angel of Death, which was greatly feared until the advent of Abraham, who spread knowledge of God to the people around him. After that, God had pity on the evil inclination and allowed the Angel of Death to become Satan. You’d think that would be his final identity, but no. In the guise of Satan, the evil inclination was able to do its work until Moses came and began teaching Torah. Satan was so forlorn that he begged the Creator to put him out of his misery.

God had other plans and renamed the adversary “Arrogance.”

Arrogance now began his career. This time, his disguise was so good that he even penetrated houses of Torah learning. The more a true scholar studies, the more he realizes how little he really knows. However, under the influence of Arrogance, people would study and not be humbled by their knowledge. Instead, they assumed airs of superiority and looked down with disdain at the unlearned. Of course, they sugarcoated these feelings by claiming to defend the dignity of their knowledge, not their own person.

Although this wasn’t to be the last guise of the evil inclination, it’s one that manages to adhere to and sway many, many religious people in the world. For some people I encounter, they “defend the dignity of their knowledge,” denying that they are actually arrogant, but some say they are defending the “truth of God” (though they are actually defending their own interpretation of “truth”) and thus apparently make themselves invulnerable to criticism (because to criticize such a person is to actually criticize God).

That’s not my problem, though. I’m not even sure the following is my problem, but in offering advice to a chassid who feared becoming arrogant due to his great Torah knowledge and devotion to prayer, Rabbi DovBer had this to say as the climax of his parable.

This continued until Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov arrived in this world. He revealed the true unity of G‑d, before whom all are equal—no matter their level of scholarship.

Again the Evil Side came before the Creator, disguised as Arrogance, asking for a merciful end. Again his name was changed. This time, instead of plain Arrogance, it would be known as “Fear of Arrogance.” Being less bold than plain old Arrogance, Fear of Arrogance could do its work in peace.

“Now, listen here,” concluded the Mitteler Rebbe. “You should know that Fear of Arrogance is Arrogance, who is Satan, who is the Angel of Death, who is the Serpent himself! Quickly, throw him out of your house, because your life is at risk!”

You can either be too arrogant or too humble, but excessive humility can be a disguise for “fear of arrogance.” That’s where I am or where I imagine myself to be, not just in relation to church but in relation to faith and trust in God, sitting on the edge of a razor blade, fearing to jump in one direction or the other. Even though I’m physically going to church, I’m not really being the church (is four weeks sufficient to be the church?).

Early Sunday morning, my parents should be leaving to return home, my daughter should be at work, I’m not sure of my wife’s schedule, but at 9:30 this morning, I should be sitting in church, trying to decide which of two pockets to reach into in order to pull out what I need at the moment.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Addendum: Keep in mind that any number of experiences will have occurred between when I wrote these words and how I think and feel by the time you read this. My next “meditation” could have a very different tone.

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39 Days: I’m Alive and Doing Fine

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If you feel discouraged about lack of progress in Torah study or spiritual growth, look back a few years and see how much you have grown from when you began. (Pachad Yitzchok, Igros Uksovim, p.218)

This experiential proof will supply you with an indisputable refutation to the premise that you cannot grow. Since you already have progressed, you have a good basis for believing that you can continue to improve.

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Daily Lift #644, Experiential Proof of Progress”
Aish.com

On the other hand, I just got done quoting Yoda when he said, “You must unlearn what you have learned.” I’m still trying to decide whether or not what I already know is a good or bad thing relative to reconciling with church and traditional Christianity. If I, as Rabbi Pliskin suggests, review my history in order to see my growth in response to my current discouragement and frustration, will that necessarily lead to the correct path for me?

Of course, Rabbi Pliskin also writes:

Rabbi Yeruchem Levovitz used to say that studying mussar (ethical writings) properly does not prevent one from being happy. Just the opposite, the proper study of mussar speaks to the soul. A person begins to identify with his soul and acquires a greater awareness of his Creator. He becomes enlightened, which brings true joy.

Sadness comes from not being satisfied with your present level of behavior, but still not wanting to work on improving. When someone sincerely strives to improve himself, he will feel joy.

“Sadness comes from not being satisfied with your present level of behavior, but still not wanting to work on improving.” So I don’t want to change. That goes without saying. No one wants to change. I suppose only my presumptive arrogance made me believe that church would change for me rather than the other way around. But Rabbi Pliskin is talking about joy and happiness as if they are the goals of a relationship with God. Are they? For that matter, is the goal to have a relationship with God the same or even necessarily compatible with the goal of having a relationship with other Christians?

I go to services, try to sing the Christian hymns (I sing like a frog), put money in the little plate when it is passed around, listen to uplifting Christian music, listen to a scripture reading, listen to a sermon. It’s pretty typical Christian fare but it’s not particularly “me.” But I wonder if being in community is all about being who you are but rather who the community needs you to be?

This thing is too new for me to have any idea what the community needs that would be uniquely within my skill sets to provide. I keep getting the feeling that everyone is waiting for me to do something before the ice breaks and I can get “in,” but I have no idea what that something is. I feel like I’m waiting too, but I don’t know what for.

Although I’m writing this ahead of time, I plan to press the “Publish” button on Thanksgiving morning (my parents will be here for the holiday and so I won’t have much time to write while they’re here). I’ve been thinking if I should somehow include a “thanks” component to this missive. Given that a lot of what I create could be interpreted as complaining, maybe cultivating a bit of gratitude wouldn’t hurt.

Last year we were at a hotel next to the Ramon crater in Israel. I was standing at the edge of the crater at sunset, watching the light bathe the red rocks with an ethereal glow. It looked like the world must have looked like at the beginning of time; just the Creator and the space to create a crater. The horizon melted into the earth as the night began to fall.

Then someone a few steps away from me said loudly into her phone, “There’s nothing to do here! I am bored out of my mind.”

How do we break free from the ‘there’s-nothing-to-see-here’ syndrome?

-Sara Debbie Gutfreund
“Five Ways to Be Grateful”
Aish.com

Modeh AniYou can click the link I just provided to read all of Gutfreund’s article, but I’ll include just one of her five ways to be grateful:

“I have what I need.” This is a blessing we say every morning: Thank You for providing me with everything that I need. But how many of us really mean it? On the days that I think about the words carefully, I am astounded by their truth. God provides me with my every need, with each part of my life designed to enable me to grow and give and fulfill my purpose in this world. I may want a hundred other things. But those are wants, not needs. Don’t make your wants into needs.

This one particularly struck me because my very first meditation for this blog was based on the modeh ani blessing, which I still recite every morning when I first wake up:

“I gratefully thank You, living and existing King
for restoring my soul to me with compassion.
Abundant is your faithfulness.”

Like most blessings, you only get out of it what you put into it, and as I’m still quite groggy when I first wake up, often having been jolted awake by the sound of the alarm, I’m not sure how much gratitude I am really feeling or expressing.

But what about church, anyway?

Am I grateful to be there?

Well, they haven’t thrown me out yet, so I’m grateful for that. Sometimes I’m grateful when I get back to my car after services and Sunday school are over, because I tend to find social events among a group of people I don’t know to require a lot of energy. Often, I need to go off, have lunch, and recharge my emotional batteries afterward.

But maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. Gutfreund writes another “thanksgiving” related article called 5 Dysfunctions of a Team, and although her focus is on marriage, I think her list of dysfunctions could apply to my approach to church as well. Here’s the list without the accompanying commentary:

  1. Absence of Trust
  2. Fear of Conflict
  3. Lack of Commitment
  4. Avoidance of Accountability
  5. Inattention to Results

Actually, Gutfreund is applying principles from Patrick Lencioni’s book, The Five Dysfunctions of a Team: A Leadership Fable to marriage, so I’m applying a metaphor of a metaphor onto my relationship with church. It should be interesting.

Gutfreund writes:

“You know that you two are complete opposites, right?” my rabbi said to us two weeks before our wedding. My future husband and I looked at each other. We hadn’t really thought about it. But now that he’d pointed it out, I could see there were some minor differences between us. My fiance was laid back. I was intense. He was a logical and concrete thinker. I was the abstract, creative type. I loved the city. He loved the country. But so what?

“And the two of you will make a great team – not despite, but because of your differences. The Torah is made of black letters against a white page. Without the white, you can’t see the black letters. And without the letters, the white has no content. Do you see what I mean?” We nodded, but I’m not sure either one of us completely understood.

“As long as you appreciate each other’s personalities, you’ll be okay. Focus on how each of your unique personalities contributes toward your shared goals. Don’t tolerate. Appreciate.”

However, in any romantic relationship, there is an attraction and a bond that has to be established before the relationship gets to the point of struggling with the differences and then learning to appreciate them. You usually have a young couple who, for whatever reason, find each other initially but superficially (how much can you know about someone just by looking at them) attractive. The attraction is enough to inspire some sort of “first contact.” There’s a conversation. Perhaps a few pleasant sparks fly. There are meetings, dates, encounters, all of which continue to strengthen the bond. Whatever differences that exist between the couple are temporarily beside the point as romantic love and the first stages of what you might call commitment begin to form.

Can I apply that to church? After all, so far I’ve noticed mostly differences and few similarities.

Really, I approached going back to church with the same emotional enthusiasm as a root canal: necessary, but to be avoided if at all possible. I went back to church as a perceived necessity and a duty, not because I was falling in love with church.

Have you ever fulfilled a mitzvot (I guess this question can only apply to Jews by definition) that you performed out of a sense of duty but not love?

Surprisingly, over 10% of the 271 mitzvot that are applicable in our times require consciously choosing our thoughts and feelings. For example, the mitzvah not to harbor hatred in one’s heart toward another person [Lev. 19:18] means that even if you were treated shabbily by your erstwhile friend, you are not supposed to nurse any grievance in your heart. But how is the aggrieved party able to accomplish this feat when his iPod shuffle mind is blaring the “She Hurt Me Blues”? He can drown out that destructive tune with the oldie-but-goodies “She’s Doing the Best She Can With What She Has,” “I Can Rise Above This” and “I Forgave Her, God, So Please Forgive Me.”

-Sara Yoheved Rigler
“The iPod Shuffle: The Zen of Judaism”
Aish.com

Is engaging in religious community a mitzvot; a commandment of God?

Apparently not, at least not in so many words. That is, a quick Google search doesn’t seem to yield a specific scripture that says, “Thou shalt meet with thy brethren weekly,” or something like that. I did find the usual, “Don’t go to church, be the church,” but that’s a platitude or principle, not something that God specifically said to us. Also, and I’ve mentioned this before, I can hardly take a commandment directed specifically at the Jews and somehow magically apply it to Christianity, unless there’s a very clear trail of connections leading from Torah to the commandments of Messiah to the Gentile disciples.

I’m not saying that community is a bad idea, I’m just asking if it’s a mitzvah, a commandment, an act of kindness and charity in the service of God? Does anybody know?

If it is, should I approach a mitzvah with reluctance (and remember, Christians can’t actually fulfill the mitzvot in the manner of the Jews)?

Or thanksgiving?

My general belief system tells me I should believe the latter. That any opportunity to serve God, assuming going to church is serving God, should be done with joy and gratitude. After all, it’s a tremendous honor to serve the Creator of the Universe, the King of all existence. Don’t even the angels sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord God Almighty?”

Beyond all of my internal debates and struggles (which are almost always externalized here), this is what I’m looking for:

When a parent loves a child,

he stoops down to the child, with such love,
he leaves his language to speak the language of the child,
he leaves his place to play the games of the child,
he leaves his entire world and all the maturity he has gained in thirty, forty years or more to become excited, sincerely excited, by those things that excite the child, to react as the child reacts, to live with the child in the child’s world with all his being…

So too, G‑d feels our pain and our joy. He lives intimately with us in our world. Yet He is infinite, beyond all things—even as He is here with us.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“G-d Involved”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

Being grateful doesn’t require a perfect life, or a perfect world, or a perfect gift. It doesn’t even require a perfect church or a perfect synagogue. While the writings of the Chabad bring me great comfort and even occasionally joy, I am abundantly aware, at least based on Shmarya Rosenberg’s record of experiences with the Chabad and Orthodox Judaism, that they aren’t a perfect community, either.

Gratitude doesn’t require perfection, it doesn’t even require satisfaction of wants and needs. It just requires an awareness of God and what He has done, including His allowing us to be alive. There’s a blessing that is said by observant Jews at certain special occasions:

O Lord our God, King of the universe
who has kept us in life, sustained us and brought us to this season.

Interestingly enough, a man named Les Emmerson wrote a song over forty years ago called Signs that says something quite similar:

And the sign said everybody welcome, come in, kneel down and pray
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all,
I didn’t have a penny to pay,
so I got me a pen and a paper and I made up my own little sign
I said thank you Lord for thinking about me, I’m alive and doing fine

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41 Days: Still Processing Sunday

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“Our fathers had the tent of witness in the wilderness, just as he who spoke to Moses directed him to make it, according to the pattern that he had seen. Our fathers in turn brought it in with Joshua when they dispossessed the nations that God drove out before our fathers. So it was until the days of David, who found favor in the sight of God and asked to find a dwelling place for the God of Jacob. But it was Solomon who built a house for him. Yet the Most High does not dwell in houses made by hands, as the prophet says,

“‘Heaven is my throne,
and the earth is my footstool.
What kind of house will you build for me, says the Lord,
or what is the place of my rest?
Did not my hand make all these things?’”

–Acts 7:44-50 (ESV)

Conclusions from Pastor Randy’s sermon on Acts 7:44-53:

  1. Israel’s history is one long story of their stubborn, rebellious tendency to reject God’s gracious dealings with them.
  2. Israel’s history has been characterized by limiting worship to a sacred placed, rather than a sacred person.
  3. We must take great care that we are not guilty of the same things!
  4. We should faithfully imitate Stephen’s bold witness, rather than have undue concern for our own safety or protection.

I don’t know. For the most part, what Pastor Randy said about this portion of Stephen’s defense before the Sanhedrin was supportive of the Tabernacle and the later Temples, including the idea that Ezekiel’s temple is literal and not figurative, and will someday exist in Jerusalem.

On the other hand, I’m bothered by the “either/or” concept of “Israel’s history has been characterized by limiting worship to a sacred placed, rather than a sacred person.” I think it would be valid to say that there were times in Israel’s history when they were faithless and even when offering sacrifices in the Temple, did so only to pay “lip service” to the commandments, while their hearts were far from God. But I don’t think that Israel’s temple service was always without value. Point 2 above seems to imply that rather than the Temple, the Jewish people should always have been focused on the Messiah, but didn’t God command Israel to build the Tabernacle? Didn’t the Shekhinah inhabit first the Tabernacle (Exodus 40:34-38) and later Solomon’s Temple (1 Kings 8:10-12)?

Did Jesus replace the Temple? But then Pastor believes Ezekiel’s Temple will be built, so can he believe that?

The title of the sermon was something like “Putting God in a Box.” I think the idea was that it’s a bad thing to put limits on God in any sense, but I never really got the impression that throughout the history of the Jewish people, anyone actually thought God was confined to the interior of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) or Temple. The Divine Presence, what most Christian Bibles translate as “the Glory of God,” was understood as a manifestation of God’s Presence without being perceived as anything like His totality. This is where understanding a little bit about Jewish mysticism and concepts such as the Ein Sof and Shekhinah would be helpful.

In Sunday school class, I did hear one gentlemen using examples of the specific type of clothing worn by Orthodox Jews and praying at the “wailing wall” (Kotel) as illustrations of Jews “putting God in a box.” It was one of the few times during class that I didn’t speak up, mainly because it would have taken too long to try to explain why those practices aren’t necessarily bad things (for Jews, anyway).

I was also a little disturbed about where I would lead such conversation if I allowed it to go down the predictable path. At the beginning of services, Pastor Randy reminded everyone that he would be leading a tour of Israel this coming spring and that “affordable prices” for airline tickets needed to be purchased by the end of this month. He was extremely supportive of Israel’s efforts in defending itself during the current crisis, and said that we should not let ourselves be put off in planning to visit in the spring because of what is happening right now.

As he went through the slide show of where the tour group would be visiting, the last place is to be Jerusalem, including stopping at the Kotel. How was I supposed to tell this fellow in Sunday school that when I saw the slides of the old city, that I have always desired to offer prayers to God at the Kotel? What would he say? How much more trouble would I stir up than I already had?

I know I don’t fit in to a Jewish community. I’m not Jewish and I’m not going act in such a way that pretends otherwise. But while I say that I’m a Christian because it’s the closest approximation of an accurate description of my faith, I don’t believe a Jewish devotion to the House of Prayer that God Himself requested and required of the Jewish people is a vain and empty effort, even relative to the person and power of the Jewish Messiah King.

And I don’t believe that Jews who choose to observe the mitzvot by a certain way of dress, or who honor their Creator by praying at the Kotel is “putting God in a box.”

Am I just looking for excuses for not going back to church? Maybe. I’ve already concluded that this particular church is about the closest I’ll ever come to finding what I’m looking for within the Christian world. If I blow it here, I’ve blown it completely. I knew I’d never find perfection, but then, what did I expect?

I just don’t know if I can agree with how Stephen’s defense is being interpreted. More from last Sunday’s study notes:

  1. They had accused him of reviling the Holy Place; He accused them of resisting the Holy Spirit. (vs 51)
  2. They had accused him of belittling the Law; He accused them of breaking the Law. (vs. 52a)
  3. They had accused him of making light of Moses, the man of God; He accused them of murdering Jesus, the Messiah of God. (vs. 52a-53)

Granted, Stephen was limiting his accusation to the Sanhedrin (as opposed to leveling it toward all Jews everywhere) in turning the accusations around to apply them to his accusers, but did he not defend the Temple, the Law, and Moses as well as the Messiah?

What am I doing here?

For the most part they were willing to support the state and to partake of the cultural bounty of the Hellenistic world, but they were unwilling to surrender their identity. They wished to “belong” but at the same time to remain distinct. Support for the state was not to be confused with the abnegation of nationalist dreams. Hellenization was not to be confused with assimilation. This tension is also evident in the social relations between Jews and gentiles.

-Shane J.D. Cohen
Chapter 2: Jews and Gentiles
Social: Jews and Gentiles, pg 37
From the Maccabees to the Mishnah, Second Edition

That’s not really describing me, but when I read this paragraph from Cohen’s book, I couldn’t help but think of my attempts at “belonging” in my current church context. However, at the same time do I want to remain distinct? Distinct as what?

I’ve described both Judaism and Christianity as cultures in addition to “faiths” (for lack of a better word). Judaism is notoriously difficult to define since it is a nation, a people, a faith, a culture, and an ethnicity, all rolled into one thing. Worse than that, Judaism encompasses multiple cultural and ethnic elements as well as variations on religious practices, but at its core, Jews will always be part of a single nation; Israel, because God has so ordained it.

By comparison, what is Christianity? It is primarily a religion, but it encompasses many “Christianities” and it has many different cultural and theological expressions. In the middle of all that, what identity do I have among them, and of what they teach, how much can I believe?