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Cloaked in Light

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Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, zt”l, offered a parable to understand why we do not say hallel on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. “This can be compared to a king who loves his children very much. Since they are close to the king they grasp his greatness and can sing his praises as is fitting.

After a while, these children left the king’s palace to a distant place. They went on a long and dark journey. Their expensive garments became soiled and torn. Any remnant of good they had taken from the king’s table was lost and they virtually forgot their noble lineage due to the difficult circumstances they were required to endure. After enduring much difficulty and pain, they returned to the gate of their father the king. Obviously they were filled with shame and at first they were certainly unable to praise the king as is fitting. How could they explain why they had left and strayed to such distant places? It was only after the king graciously forgave them and they were able to remove their soiled garments that they began to return to themselves. After spending some time in the presence of the king, partaking of the delicacies of the palace, they could once again praise the king as is fitting.”

Rav Levi Yitzchak explained, “Each year we are just like those princes. When Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur arrive, we feel so ashamed of our sins that we cannot possibly say hallel—fitting praise for the King. It is only after we are completely cleansed from all sins and have prepared for Sukkos that we can once again praise the King eight days as is fitting.”

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“The King’s Table
Arachin 10

Rema writes that one should attempt to begin reading about something good and finish reading about something good. Mishnah Berurah explains that Rema means that one should begin and end with something good about the Jewish People.

Mishna Berura Yomi Digest
Halacha Highlight
“Beginning and ending an aliyah with something good”
Rema Siman 138, Seif 1

The general custom during the traditional Torah readings on Shabbat, is to begin each Aliyah with something positive about the Jews and to end each aliyah in the same manner. It doesn’t always work out that way, but it is one of the reasons the portions of each aliyah are selected as they are. We can learn a general principle of life from this.

I once heard a high school teacher say that whenever he found it necessary to criticize a student, he would take the student to his office to avoid embarrassing him in front of the class, then he would begin the criticism by giving the student a compliment and, after delivering the “painful” portion of the rebuke, would end by delivering another compliment. In this manner, the student would not feel as if his relationship with the teacher was based solely on the child’s failure, and that there were other qualities of the student that the teacher recognized and admired.

In the Daf for Arachin 10, we see that the children of the King started life very well under his guidance but that life took a turn for the worse when they struck out on their own. Returning to their father, they were ashamed to the point of being unable even to praise the King as was his due. However, the King ended this period of failure in the lives of his children with the same goodness as it had begun, by removing the filth from upon them and returning them to a clean state. How like another parable that was told by the Master.

Our lives all begin in innocence at our birth but as is common with human beings, we turn to serve our own interests and to sin against other people and against God. Even people who are born in religious homes and who are raised by devout parents cannot maintain a life of pure innocence, and the “darkness” of our human natures begins to dampen the goodness of the image in which we were created.

BrillianceYet we have a King who is unwilling that we should begin but not end our lives in the same goodness, and like the parable of Rav Levi Yitzchak, all we need to do is return to our Father in humility and with a contrite heart, and He will remove that which is filth from upon our shoulders and clothe us in pure light.

Then he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the LORD, and Satan standing at his right hand to accuse him. And the LORD said to Satan, “The LORD rebuke you, O Satan! The LORD who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is not this a brand plucked from the fire?” Now Joshua was standing before the angel, clothed with filthy garments. And the angel said to those who were standing before him, “Remove the filthy garments from him.” And to him he said, “Behold, I have taken your iniquity away from you, and I will clothe you with pure vestments.” And I said, “Let them put a clean turban on his head.” So they put a clean turban on his head and clothed him with garments. And the angel of the LORD was standing by.

And the angel of the LORD solemnly assured Joshua, “Thus says the LORD of hosts: If you will walk in my ways and keep my charge, then you shall rule my house and have charge of my courts, and I will give you the right of access among those who are standing here. –Zechariah 3:1-7

Bless the LORD, O my soul!
O LORD my God, you are very great!
You have donned majesty and splendor
cloaked in light as with a garment,
stretching out the heavens like a curtain. –Psalm 104:1-2

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The Focus and the Lens

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The Sichos HaRan, zt”l, explains how fortunate we are to have received the Torah. “Non-Jews who did not receive the Torah have no idea how to act. A non-Jew who wants to discover the meaning of life must search for the truth and has very little chance of finding it. Jews are very fortunate, since God gave us the Torah which reveals exactly how we should act in any given situation. We can focus all of our energies on fulfilling the Torah instead of squandering them in an attempt to determine what to do.”

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“God’s Charity”
Arachin 8

I have a difficult time understanding how the Sichos HaRan, zt”l can make such a statement and yet still call God charitable. After all, is God not the God of the Jew and the non-Jew alike? He makes it sound as if God left the Gentile people of the nations “hanging out to dry,” so to speak. In fact, even from a traditional Jewish point of view, it’s not that way at all.

Most religious Jews believe that God gave “the rest of us” the Seven Noahide Commandments which guide us along a path of Godly living. Of course, when you compare a mere seven laws to the 613 commandments that Jews believe comprise the Torah, it’s easy to believe that the Gentiles got the short end of the stick. After all, as the “story off the daf” points out, the level of detail in the Torah commandments, describe for the Jew “exactly how we should act in any given situation.” That’s not literally true of the written portion of the Torah, but once you factor in the Mishnah, Talmud, and Gemara, an astounding and even overwhelming amount of information is provided about every conceivable situation in which a Jew may find himself.

Even if you believe that the seven Noahide laws can be expanded out to 80 or 90 more detailed commentaries, it still seems like we don’t have nearly the same amount of Heavenly direction given to us as the Jewish people enjoy. If you’re an atheist, you probably couldn’t care less, and enjoy the type of freedom a secular world view provides. If you’re a traditional Christian, this only confirms what you’ve been taught about the freedom that the grace of Jesus Christ offers, and how the “chains” of the Law can no longer hold you (not that they ever applied to you in the first place).

Yet, as I have been reminded recently, for a number of Christians, the “grace of Christ” doesn’t seem to be enough. There’s a sort of “emptiness” some people feel in the church, as if a man starving for meat and potatoes is given only a can of soda pop for lunch. Lots of “fizz” but no substance. For these Christians, the substance seems to be found in Judaism and among some of these folks, Judaism becomes the focus, leaving God and faith in the Messiah in the dust.

I’m a Christian who, as you know if you’ve been following this blog for very long, chooses to view my faith in Christ through a Jewish lens (if such a thing is possible). However, it took me years to be able to distinguish the lens from the focus of the lens. The lens is the means by which I look at the Messiah and gaze at the image of God. The focus is the Messiah who leads me on the path of righteousness to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It’s important not to confuse the two.

I sometimes think even people in the traditional church suffer from this confusion. The theology, the music, the church programs, and even grace, all seem to substitute for the substance of God. Maybe that’s why people leave Christianity and either apostate completely or seek some aspect of Judaism onto which they can attach. However, since this type of confusion can strike at the Christian either in the church or in the synagogue, it’s not the religion that’s the problem, it’s the people. More specifically, it’s how people understand what they have faith in. Do you have faith in Christianity or in God? Do you have faith in Judaism or in God? Who or what do you worship and why? Do you even know if you are worshiping a thing rather than the Creator of the universe?

I’ve seen non-Jews in “Messianic” or Hebrew Roots groups who became totally enamoured with wearing a tallit gadol and kippah, praying with a siddur, and learning Hebrew. Nothing is necessarily wrong with using holy objects in the practice of your faith, but there is something terribly wrong if you wake up one morning and realize that its the objects you’re really worshiping. It’s even worse if you are worshiping the objects and never actually realize it.

There are non-Jews including some Christians, who convert to Judaism for various reasons and I am not here to question those decisions. However, I am concerned with those Christians who, in seeking the Jewish Jesus in the synagogue, lose sight of him completely, and convert because they have started worshiping Jewishness.

Any Christian who is worshiping and studying in a Jewish venue needs to periodically take one giant step backward and examine what they are doing and why. If you know your eyes need to be on the Messiah at all times but his “image” is becoming increasingly fuzzy, you may have allowed something to get in between you and him. If your lens has become your focus, stop everything, take a break, and get some fresh air. A life of study contains many details and a great deal of information, but at its core, a life of holiness is not complicated. It’s a simple as praying and can easily begin with the words, “Our Father Who is in Heaven…”

Never forget who you are and who He is to you.

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Praying and the Pain of Thorns

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Most of us expect prayer to inspire and comfort us. The grandeur of the synagogue, its architectural beauty and music, the peacefulness of the setting – all of these convey the sense that Jewish prayer is about feeling peace. We expect that participating in a service will touch us uniquely and deeply. So when we do not feel that peace, we feel let down.

But if Jewish life is about struggle, we should be suspicious of the assumption that prayer is entirely about peace or comfort. If prayer were designed only to provide comfort, would it contribute to our struggle? Probably not. If prayer were designed only to move and to touch us, if comfort and joy were its only goals, Jewish prayer would actually undermine the difficult effort involved in Jewish spirituality.

-Rabbi Daniel Gordis
“Prayer – Jewish Spirituality and the Struggle to Become” (pp 164-5)
God Was Not In The Fire

This is probably very mysterious to most Christians. Why shouldn’t prayer be about “comfort and joy” instead of struggle? Who wants to struggle with God and with themselves when they are hurt or sick or scared? We want peace when we’re in trouble and praying to God, and we want peace now!

And sometimes, God delivers.

And a lot of times, He doesn’t, at least in the immediate sense of providing instantaneous, overwhelming peace.

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. –Philippians 4:11-13 (ESV)

Does any of this mean that Paul never contended with God as Jacob contended with the angel (Genesis 32:22-32)? Here’s the answer.

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. –2 Corinthians 12:7-10 (ESV)

Imagine the conversation (repeat three times):

Paul: Ouch, God! This hurts! Can you please take it away now?

God: No.

Paul: Why not? It’s not like I deserve this. Look at all the good I’ve done in the name of the Moshiach. Half the time, I can’t concentrate because of the pain. Think about how much better I could serve you if I didn’t have this distraction.

God: I’m thinking about how big an ego you’ve got and how much more you’d serve it if you didn’t have to put up with the messenger of Satan I’ve allowed to be jammed into your side.

Paul: That’s not fair.

God: Job said that same thing to me and you know how I answered him.

Paul: I guess I’m stuck for an answer, but it still hurts.

God: It’s not about living without the struggle, it’s about learning to live with it. If you can do that, your message to the disciples among the Goyim will be all the more powerful. You must remember my servant Jacob, as the Goyim will remember my servant Paul.

I have some friends in the Puget Sound area named Joe and Heidi. They’re about my age. They enjoy hiking and photography and they love God. They both have cancer and spend almost all of the time that they’re not climbing over mountains and valleys, in lengthy sessions of treatment and testing. The tumors never seem to abate and the news I hear is often more bad than good. Their faith is virtually without parallel, but at times, so is their suffering and sorrow. They ask for prayer frequently and I pray for them constantly. But what do I pray? What am I supposed to pray? Jesus, tell me how I’m supposed to pray!

The answer probably seems obvious to you. “Pray for their healing,” you say. “Pray that God will give them both a complete and perfect cure,” you say. “Pray that they experience total comfort and joy and peace.”

Is there something wrong with my prayers? I pray for all that, but it doesn’t happen. God is supposed to give us what we need and even what we want if we pray in the name of Jesus Christ, right? Why isn’t it working?

If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it. John 14:14 (NASB)

In that day you will not question Me about anything. Truly, truly, I say to you, if you ask the Father for anything in My name, He will give it to you. –John 16:23 (NASB)

It’s not working out the way he promised. Instead of being given what I ask for in the name of Christ, I feel like I’ve wrestled with an angel all night long. It’s not easy, it’s exhausting. I’m worn out and no closer to experiencing “comfort and joy,” let alone “contentment,” than I was when I started praying. As far as I can tell, Joe and Heidi are no closer to be cured of cancer now than when I started praying, and it’s not only me. A lot of believers are praying for them all the time. God, where are You when we need You?

That is why Jewish prayer tries to evoke not only peace and comfort, but wrestling and angst as well. Despite our desire to feel beauty and the comfort that often accompanies it, it may be precisely when we feel somewhat disconcerted and not entirely at ease that Jewish prayer may be accomplishing its most central goal. Indeed, that ideal for prayer is communicated by the very word that Jews use for the act of praying.

The Hebrew term for the verb “to pray” is “le-hitpalel,” which means “to judge oneself,” or even “to struggle with oneself.”

-Gordis (pg 165)

Now that is what I experience when I pray!

Rabbi Gordis goes on to explain that prayer is not sending out “Santa’s wish list” up to God so that His miracles can be delivered to us in flashy wrapping paper and tied in a pretty ribbons. Jewish Prayer is not a “Catechism” of devotional statements about what we believe, but a struggle with God and with ourselves, with faith and trust hanging in the balance, along with human lives.

Adon Olam or “Master of the Universe” is a classic Jewish prayer that encapsulates faith, trust, and struggle. The beginning of this 11th century poem speaks of a Jew’s absolute trust in the God of his Fathers, but as Gordis teaches:

…suddenly, after line six, the tone changes. Beginning with the seventh line, the focus shifts. The poet moves away from broad theological claims about God’s grandeur, focusing instead on the speaker’s intimate feelings about God. No longer is God endless and majestic; now, the poet speaks of “my God…a Rock in my travail at the time of distress.” Gone are the claims that “even after all things have come to an end, God alone, awesome, will remain King”; in their stead we hear “to His hand I entrust my spirit, when I sleep and when I wake.” Just as the Mishnah we examined above abruptly switched its emphasis from keva to kavvanah from one line to the next, this text suddenly focuses not on what we believe about God, but on how we feel about God.

-Gordis (pg 173)

The struggle in our spiritual journey of discovery of both God and who we are in God, is contained, not only in Adon Olam, but in the contents of the siddur; in all Jewish prayer. Contrary to what most Christians believe, Jewish prayer contains both spontaneous and liturgical elements that create the structure in which a Jew prays, as well as allowing a Jew’s prayers to fly up free, returning to God as a spark returns to the flame. It also provides the arena in which we wrestle with God and our own spiritual struggle as we progress along the rough and rocky path that leads from earth into heaven.

How can there be misery and suffering in a world created by a perfect and loving God? That unanswered question has resulted in many falling away from the faith and many more never coming near a God they see as horrible and destructive. And yet, the current condition of our world is not God’s fault but man’s. God allowed us to play in our world as a child living in a tinderbox might play with matches. God could have protected us the way any responsible parent would have kept matches out of the reach of a four-year old, but we were meant to be the caretakers of this world, and as such, we were given autonomy over it (Genesis 1:28). We are responsible for our own messes and if the concept of Tikkun Olam has any meaning, we are responsible for preparing the world for the arrival of the Moshiach, who will help us repair the world we damaged so completely, including the world of our lives.

Yes, God answers prayer and sometimes people are miraculously healed, both for His glory and because of His kindness, but prayer isn’t like putting a coin in a vending machine, pressing a few buttons, and expecting a delicious soft drink to come popping out to quench our thirst. Each prayer is a fresh encounter with God where He challenges us to become a little more holy than we were before, often by facing those things about ourselves and our world that are most ugly and repellent. We meet both the best and the worst in ourselves, and in the midst of that battle, we encounter our desperation and our fears. We also encounter the miracle of meeting God on neutral ground, neither heaven or earth, and occasionally find the miracles of joy and comfort. We also encounter the thorn.

Prayer isn’t just a gift where we get what we want. It’s also a place where we share our joys and sorrows with God, and where we begin to realize that even if the conditions of our lives never really change, we come to know that God is always with us, no matter where we go, or what is happening to us.

If God entered the Egyptian exile with Jacob (Genesis 46:4) and even entered the death camps with six million Jews, He also goes into chemotherapy with those who have cancer, lives with the tumors, and climbs along the mountain trails, sharing our struggles, our tears, and even our joy.

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Recovered Priorities

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Once there was a shopkeeper who was very successful and made a fortune off of the people of his city and the surrounding environs. Virtually every waking minute was taken up with work. Not only did he lack time to learn one word of Torah, this gentleman didn’t even have enough time to daven. Since he worked until late at night it was hard for him to get up on time in the morning. He invariably arrived at shul around the time of borchu. Of course, since he always needed to rush to his business, he would leave early and never remained until aleinu.

When this businessman grew older he started to notice that his hair was turning grey. The shock of his own encroaching mortality inspired him to make a rigorous cheshbon hanefesh. He decided that from that day on he would have a daily seder of several hours of Torah study after davening no matter what.

But his partner wondered why this man, always so regular in the past, did not come to help the moment the store opened at 7:00 AM. When he finally arrived somewhat after ten, his partner was a little annoyed with him. “Where were you?” blurted the partner.

“I couldn’t make it on time today,” he replied vaguely.

The next day the partner in the store anxiously awaited the reformed businessman, but to no avail. When this man finally arrived at the store, his partner virtually pounced on him. “Are you crazy? We cannot run a business this way!”

But the partner who had done teshuvah also did not mince words. “Listen carefully. What would you have done if the malach hamaves had come for me? Would you also insist that I simply may not die because our store is filled with customers? So I want you to imagine that, during those first three hours of business in the morning, I have left the world. Why should it bother you if after a couple of hours I am revived from the dead and come to lend a hand at the business?”

Mishna Berura Yomi Digest
Stories to Share
“Early Departure”
Siman 132 Seir 2

The story of the shopkeeper is interesting because it’s not about a person who goes from being an atheist to finding God. It’s the story of a religious person who was just too busy for God. That is, until he got his “wake up call.” I’m glad his revelation was as minor as simply noticing he was turning grey and getting older. For some people, it’s more dramatic, like a heart attack, or the death of a loved one due to cancer. It’s a shame we need such “reminders” at all, but that’s human nature. Even as people of faith, we tend to take God and His gifts (wealth, health) for granted until He gives us a reason not to. Of course we should go to God because He is God, but usually we need a “better” reason than that.

OK, there is no better reason to go to God than because He is King, but as we see from the shopkeeper’s example, we can become hopelessly tied up in our day-to-day lives and all of the immediate priorities we feel cannot wait for a few minutes, let alone a few hours. We may even have someone around us like the shopkeeper’s partner who continued to harass this man about the time he diverted away from business in order to meet his obligations to his Creator.

I found this part of the narrative particularly interesting:

So I want you to imagine that, during those first three hours of business in the morning, I have left the world. Why should it bother you if after a couple of hours I am revived from the dead and come to lend a hand at the business?”

The shopkeeper, in meeting with God for the first three hours of his day, effectively exited the world as we know it and was considered “dead” to the pressures and demands of life. He was “revived” upon leaving the presence of God and as he re-entered the world of the living in order to satisfy the requirements of his present existence. This is a concept not unknown in Judaism or Christianity.

I gratefully thank you living and existing King, for returning my soul to me with compassion. Abundant is Your faithfulness. –Modeh Ani

This is the first blessing an observant Jew recites upon awakening in the morning, usually even before getting out of bed. In religious Judaism, some consider sleep to be “made up” of a significant portion of “death”. It’s as if in sleep, we are closer to the realm of death and thus more at risk of entering its “influence” than when we’re awake.

Christianity expresses a similar sentiment, but the blessing is said before going to bed. If you were raised in a Christian family, you may have said this prayer at bedtime when you were a child.

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake.
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

I suppose I should mention that in Judaism the Bedtime Shema also contains imagery of entering into a state approaching death and asking God for protection.

The shopkeeper thought he didn’t have time to insert his service to God in his busy life. But when he realized that his life could end at any moment, he knew he didn’t have the same amount of time to devote to business as he did before because he needed to enter into God’s world first.

Why am I writing this? Because I think that “Early Departure” is a moving and meaningful tale, I think that it tells us something we need to be reminded of, and I know that I have put God on the “back burner” more than once because I’ve been too busy.

I also am aware that there are more days behind me than there are ahead and I’ve been arrogant about how I spend my time, ignoring the reality of my existence, which only continues by God’s grace. I suppose this can be considered the latest in a long list of “stop and smell the roses” messages, and as trite as that may sound, it also has the benefit of being true.

Stop for a moment in the middle of your busy day. Take time out today and every day to gratefully thank the King of your life and to let Him know you haven’t forgotten that He is the King.

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The Sufficient Summit

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Today’s amud discusses one who saw a dream and was unsure what it means.

When Rav Raphael of Barshad first began to search for the ideal way to serve Hashem, he heard that learning the Zohar Hakadosh was a great segulah for attaining fear of heaven. He began learning a great deal of Zohar but when he reached towards the end of the Zohar Chadash, he was dismayed. The Zohar warns there against being like Bilaam, who was a complete fool despite his great knowledge of serving Hashem.

Rav Raphael said to himself, “If one can know so much and still be a fool, perhaps I should focus instead on the Shulchan Aruch so that my study will bring me to action.”

He started learning the Shulchan Aruch in depth, but when he got to Orach Chaim #231, “All of one’s acts should be for the sake of heaven,” he again felt that something was missing.

“Are all of my actions really l’shem shomayim? Perhaps I should spend more time on mussar?” Rav Rafael therefore added study of the Shelah HaKadosh to his schedule.

He was so immersed in the Shelah that he would learn it at every opportunity. But after a while he again felt as if something was missing. So he traveled to the famous Rav Pinchas of Koretz for advice.

Rav Rafael poured out his heart. “I want to serve Hashem in truth, but everything I have tried has been insufficient!” He was so distressed that he actually fainted.

When he came to, Rav Pinchas said, “If you stay with me, you will come to truth.”

Three years later, Rav Rafael dreamed that he was playing cards. Although his hand started out with black cards, they all turned white in the end. When he shared his dream with Rav Pinchas, he was given a positive interpretation.

“When you first came to me, you were blackened with worry and chumros, and this prevented you from serving Hashem in truth. But now you are white with virtue and purity!”

Mishnah Berura Yomi Digest
Stories to Share
“Magnificient Dream”
Siman 130 Seif 1

This sequence of events reminds me of Joseph’s gift of dream interpretation which we’ve recently read about in Genesis 40:5-23 and particularly in Genesis 41:1-32. In both instances, the interpretation of dreams changed the course of people’s lives. When Joseph interpreted the dreams of Pharaoh, King of Egypt, the ultimate result was that Joseph was transformed from prisoner to ruler, the civilized world was saved from starvation, and the Children of Israel were gathered to Goshen in Egypt to sojourn in peace…and after Joseph’s death, to become slaves.

But what does the dream of Rav Raphael of Barshad tell us? Even the interpretation of Rav Pinchas of Koretz does not reveal exactly why Rav Raphael went from being “blackened” to “white with virtue and purity”. Was there something wrong with what he was studying or was he just studying too much? Some Christians might use this parable to say that the Jews in general study too much outside the realm of the Bible and that all we need is the Holy Spirit and the Gospels to guide us. However, if that’s true, then why do Christians study the Bible at all? If true, then why is there such a vast body of Christian Biblical scholarship available? Maybe it’s not the studying at all, as we’re about to discover.

Yesterday, I wrote a very short and simple meditation called God is in the Backyard. Not that God is literally hanging out beside the flower bed or the swing set, but that He is near at hand to all who call upon him.

The LORD is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;
he hears their cry and saves them. –Psalm 145:18-19

By using the quotes above, I’m not disdaining serious study. Quite the opposite. I advocate a life of peering into the Word as well as the wisdom of the Sages in order to gain a clearer glimpse of the glory of God. In a sense, that was the goal of Moses as well. Moses, more than anything, wanted a greater understanding of God (according to the Sages, he didn’t literally want to see God’s face) and God granted Moses as much as a human being could comprehend.

Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.”

And the LORD said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.”

Then the LORD said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.” –Exodus 33:18-23

Studying is one way we get to know God better. It’s not a perfect way, as Rav Raphael discovered. Sometimes study can take on a life of its own and is unknowingly substituted for the target at which we are aiming. Rav Raphael was afraid he was missing out. He tried to create a comprehensive lifestyle of study that would “cover all the bases” but he was never satisfied. Rav Pinchas showed him that there is more to our desire to know God than can be found in study (though the parable does not say exactly what transpired between Rav Raphael and Rav Pinchas during the three years described). Perhaps it wasn’t the course of study at all but Rav Raphael’s worry and anxiety over not being sufficient. Maybe his course of study never changed, but his attitude toward it (and toward God) did.

We are all insufficient in our relationship to God. Not that we shouldn’t continue striving for greater closeness, but we must come to accept that our own efforts will never be enough to close the gap. For some, this is an excuse to stop trying and to let God do all the work. For others, it is the motivation to try and obey God “just right”, as if the commandments in the Bible were some sort of checklist, but that may be what caused Rav Raphael’s problem in the first place (and if so, Rav Raphael had the wisdom to realize this wasn’t working). Neither approach is the true answer. The answer I believe Rav Raphael discovered was to let his effort be his effort and to let God be God. Release the anxiety surrounding whether or not you are doing enough or doing it just right, and just do what you can do. How can we feel the joy of a relationship with God if we are constantly fretting over all the tiny details? I believe in seeking His joy, we will sail to ever greater heights, though I doubt we’ll recognize it until after we’ve arrived.

We all struggle as we climb a difficult trail but the reward of reaching the summit, as we will someday, is worth the cost. However during the effort of the journey, there are rewards enough as well if we take the time to look for them. Let every day be the summit and the reward in reaching the final destination will take care of itself. Another way of saying it is Dayenu.

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Replay: Getting in the Wheelbarrow

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I first published the blog post “Getting in the Wheelbarrow” last spring on my now defunct Searching for the Light on the Path blogspot. Given the set of challenges I’ve been facing lately, it seemed like a good time to pass this message along again.

There are two words often lumped together and commonly perceived as synonymous, when in reality they are not.

The two are Faith and Trust. In Hebrew, emunah and bitachon. One way of explaining the difference between these words is that the former is the belief that G-d exists. The latter is the knowledge thereof, or, more accurately, the result of that knowledge, in mind, heart, and deed.

Rabbeinu Bechaya (in his book Kad Hakemach) puts it this way: “Anyone who trusts has faith, but not anyone with faith trusts.”

-Mendel Kalmenson
“The Real Answer to the Question, Who Moved My Cheese?”
Chabad.org

This could be a useful answer to a lot of people’s difficulties in their relationship with God. It could be a useful answer to your relationship difficulties with God. It could be a useful answer to my relationship difficulties with God. We tend to think of having faith in God and trusting God as the same thing, but they’re not. Because they’re not, we’re expecting certain things to happen in our lives that aren’t going to happen. It’s like being married. If we believe in our spouse but don’t trust him or her, what kind of a marriage is that? Is it even a relationship at all?

Here’s another example from the same source:

This point can be further illustrated by a parable:

Long before the entertainment industry boomed, tightrope walking was a common form of amusement and recreation.

Once, a world-famous master of the sport visited a particular region. Word spread quickly, and many people turned up for the show. All was quiet as the master nimbly climbed the tree from which he would begin his dangerous trek.

But just before beginning his routine he called out: “Who here believes I can make it across safely?”

The crowd roared their affirmation. Again he asked the question and was greeted by the same response.

He then pulled out a wheelbarrow from between the branches and asked, less boisterously, “Which of you is willing to get inside the wheelbarrow as I cross?”

You could hear a pin drop.

Faith is the roaring response of the crowd; trust is climbing into the wheelbarrow.

It’s easy to have faith in God but not to trust Him. It’s easy to say “God exists and I believe in Him” as long as we don’t have to become personally involved in performing the weightier matters of Torah. We can have an incredible faith that the tightrope walker will make it to the other end of the rope as long as we don’t have to climb into his wheelbarrow.

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.”

Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that – and shudder.

You foolish person, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless? Was not our father Abraham considered righteous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did. And the scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,” and he was called God’s friend. You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.-James 2:14-24

When James (Ya’akov) says “that a person is considered righteous by what they do”, he’s talking about trust or bitachon. Our problem, is that we “think” about God, and we “feel” all warm and fuzzy about Jesus, but we don’t “do” anything about changing our lives to conform to our thinking and feeling. Here’s another example:

Maimonides is one in a long line of Jewish commentators who have proposed rationalistic interpretations of Scripture. Thus, words denoting place, sight, hearing, or position (of God) are interpreted as mental properties or dispositions. In our own vocabulary, it could be said that Maimonides has attempted to demythologize biblical narrative.

-from Maimonides: A Guide for Today’s Perplexed
by Kenneth Seeskin

Maimonides tends to see Biblical interpretation as either literal or allegorical and his strength as a theologian, philosopher, and sage is in his rational approach to the Tanakh (Jewish Bible). However there is a significant gap in his vision. We can also interpret the Bible and God through a mystic and experiential lens. The mystic seeks to encounter God in an extra-natural realm; meeting Him outside the boundaries of our physical universe, but we can also experience God in our day-to-day life by experiencing ourselves. We can “do” God and not just “think” or “feel” God. We can be the answer to prayer. We can have and live out faith and trust.

We can get in the wheelbarrow.