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Torah Portion

Vayikra: Voluntary Offering

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The Torah portion Vayikra discusses various types of korbanos, sacrificial offerings, first relating the laws of voluntary offerings and then of obligatory offerings. Why does the Torah begin with free-will offerings; one would think that we should first be made aware of the laws regarding the korbanos that must be brought, and only then learn about the details of the voluntary offerings. The answer is that, by doing so, it indicates that the most crucial aspect of all offerings is that they be offered from a genuine desire to come closer to G-d – “his heart’s intent is for the sake of Heaven.”

It can thus be said that all korbanos are to be considered free-will offerings, for at the crux of all offerings are the feelings of the individual bringing them.

In fact, the intention required is found within each and every Jew, but when an individual brings a free-will offering, these latent desires are revealed for all to see.

Thus, it is not necessary for the Torah to command this intent, for it is found in any case; bringing the offering will automatically reveal the Jew’s innate intention of drawing close to G-d.

-from “Korbanos and the Heart’s Intent”
Commentary on Torah Portion Vayikra
Based on Likkutei Sichos, Vol. XVII, pp. 9-13
and the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe
Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

In Christianity, we have a tendency to view Jewish religious behavior as obligatory, works-driven acts; almost a kind of “slavery” to God. By comparison, the Christian believes that grace makes us as free as a bird in flight to enjoy the peace and understanding of a loving and forgiving God. What we do in response to the grace of God and the crucifixion of Jesus Christ is based (ideally) on sheer gratitude for all God has done for us. There are few, if any, obligations incumbent on the Christian, or at least that’s how it sounds when most Pastors deliver their message from the pulpit on Sunday.

But here we see a different side of Judaism, one that we’re not always aware of. We see that a Jew is encouraged to embrace the motivation of voluntarily drawing closer to God. It’s not a slave approaching a Master with bloody sacrifices on a hot, burning, and ash-filled altar, but a person who actually wants to approach, as a lover with a gift, desiring to enter into the presence of her paramour.

Today’s daf continues to discuss the halachos of various issurei kareis.

The evil inclination will drive a person insane if given half a chance. First it entices a person to sin. Then it riddles him with thoughts of guilt and gloomy thoughts of what will be the result of his sinful activities.

Rav Yitzchak Sher, zt”l, explained why the yetzer hara won’t even allow a person to enjoy having sinned. “The yetzer wants to kill us, as our sages teach. He therefore pushes one to sin and urges God to punish the hapless fellow. Even if he cannot kill us, he wants us to suffer. He is in essence saying, ‘You sinned, now give up all the pleasure too.’”

One of the strongest arguments the yetzer has is when a person transgresses issurei kareis, chas v’shalom. The evil inclination immediately begins harping on this stain, insisting that teshuvah doesn’t help—in direct contradiction of the Gemara itself. Yet even one who learned that kareis can be rectified cannot help being daunted by the need for Yom Kippur and yesurin to clean away such guilt. Although the Meiri there adds that a complete teshuvah also atones alone, who can say he has done a complete teshuvah?

The Chofetz Chaim, zt”l, brings that the Yesod V’Shoresh Ha’avodah, zt”l, teaches how to wipe away even the kareissins. “It is brought from the Arizal that one who did a sin punishable by kareis should stay awake the entire night and learn Torah, especially those segments where the sin he transgressed is discussed.”

The Yesod V’Shoresh Ha’avodah adds, “This practice is most frequently followed during the nights of Aseres Yemei Teshuvah. The custom is for people to stay on their feet and learn Meseches Kareisos the entire night.”

The Chofetz Chaim adds that one who learns Meseches Kareisos well attains added holiness and purity. Learning this tractate is a segulah to rectify transgressions.

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“Repairing the Damage”
Kereisos 3

That doesn’t sound very voluntary, but when we have distanced ourselves from God, it’s pretty tough to actually want to face Him again, particularly after we’ve sinned and let Him down. Guilt makes things a mess and we’ll put ourselves through all kinds of pain and sorrow as a result.

But God does not want sin to make His people distant and desires that His chosen ones draw close, even after periods of separation.

The unique love which G-d shows the Jewish people is reflected in the beginning of our Torah reading, which states: “And He called to Moshe, and G-d spoke to him.” Before G-d spoke to Moshe, He called to him, showing him a unique measure of endearment. G-d did not call Moshe to impart information; on the contrary, He called him to express the fundamental love He shares with our people. (For although it was Moshe alone who was called, this call was addressed to him as the leader of our people as a whole.)

The inner G-dly nature which we possess constantly “calls” to us, seeking to express itself. This is reflected by the subject of the Torah reading, the sacrificial offerings. The Hebrew word for sacrifice, korban, shares a root with the word kerov, meaning “close.” Sacrifices bring the Jews’ spiritual potential to the surface, carrying our people and each individual closer to G-d.

-Rabbi Eli Touger
from “The Dearness of Every Jew”
Commentary on Torah Portion Vayikra
Adapted from
Likkutei Sichos, Vol. VII, pgs. 24-26;
Vol. XVII, pgs. 12-15;
Sefer HaSichos 5750, Vol. I, p. 327ff
Chabad.org

But how does this speak to the Christian? Actually, it speaks to us especially so that me might understand how passionately God does not want His chosen ones, the Jewish people, to be distant from Him…ever. How can the joining of the nations to the God of Israel ever diminish, or God forbid, destroy the loving union between the Jews and God? How can we ever dare believe such as thing?

But if God is so close to the Jew, where does that leave the Gentile?

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. –John 3:16 (ESV)

And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” –Matthew 28:18-20 (ESV)

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called “the uncircumcision” by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands – remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. –Ephesians 2:11-13 (ESV)

God’s grace and mercy are not limited to the Jewish people, although the Jews have been and always shall be a special people unto the Creator. God grants His grace to the nations of the world as well, but here’s the catch. We must volunteer to draw near to Him. We are not compelled to do so, nor are we born into His grace.

To one degree or another, if you are born Jewish, even though God desires the Jewish person to draw near of his or her own free will, there is an attachment of the Jew to all other Jews and to the Torah that can never be disconnected. You belong, quite frankly, whether you want to or not. This is not true for the rest of us. Although each of us was created in God’s own image, we either choose to draw near to Him or we choose to be distant. Even the atheist, who believes it is more rational to disbelieve in the existence of God, is still making a choice, since knowledge of God is abundant in the world around us.

But God desires us. He desires that we all draw near to Him and that none should be lost or perish (2 Peter 3:9). But we must desire Him. How can this be done, since all human beings desire only their own wants and needs without hardly a thought of God? It would take a miracle. Rabbi Touger’s commentary continues.

The G-dly potential within every Jew and within our people as a whole will not remain dormant. Its blossoming will lead to an age when the G-dliness latent in the world at large will become manifest, the Era of the Redemption. At that time, the Jewish people will “relate [G-d’s] praise” in a complete manner, showing our gratitude for the miracles performed on our behalf.

Herein we see a connection to the month of Nissan, during which Parshas Vayikra usually falls. Our Sages associate Nissan with miracles. Further, Nissan is the month in which the Jews were redeemed, and the month in which we will be redeemed in the future. At that time, our entire nation will proceed to our Holy Land and “relate [G-d’s] praise” in the Beis HaMikdash. May this take place in the immediate future.

The Rabbi’s words echo those of the Apostle Paul who also said that “all Israel will be saved” (Romans 11:26). We also see how the rest of us are included in God’s grace, as Rabbi Touger says that the “blossoming” of Jewish holiness, “will lead to an age when the G-dliness latent in the world at large will become manifest, the Era of the Redemption.”

This is the era of the Messiah’s return.

The Christian world is looking forward to a reminder of the return of Jesus in its celebration of his resurrection on Easter Sunday, which is on April 8th this year. For the Jew, the special time of redemption is when the Jewish people were redeemed from slavery by God, during the Passover season, which begins at sundown on Thursday, April 5th. I personally relate more to the Passover season for reasons too numerous to mention here, but regardless of which time you hold dear in your heart, realize that we are called, not to be chained to God, but to fervently desire to be near to Him, to draw close, to love His Word and His Presence in our lives.

To want to be near God, we must believe we are safe when we are with Him. We must do more than hope in Him, we must trust in God, something that is not always easy for me. I suppose this is a major reason why our relationship isn’t what it should be. I suppose it’s why God drops little reminders into my calendar; little invitations to draw near to Him. He does so every week on Shabbat. He does so every day for morning and evening prayers. He does so many times a year and, after all, as I just mentioned, Passover is drawing near. These are times when God asks me to set aside my doubts and fears, to trust Him, to believe in miracles, and to approach.

Trust transcends hope, as the sky above transcends the earth below.

The heart that clings to a thread of hope is anchored to its earthly bounds. It desires to receive, but its capacity is tightly defined. The thread snaps and your eyes look up to see nothing more than the open sky. Hope is gone. All you can do now is trust the One who has no bounds.

That is Trust: When you stop suggesting to your Maker what He should do. When you are prepared to be surprised and open to wonders and miracles.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Trust over Hope”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

Good Shabbos.

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Dream Not of Today

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Yes, I know you’re exhausted. I also know about irresponsible roommates, colicky babies, infants with croup, calming kids with school anxiety, waiting up for teenagers at night, and sleeping with arthritis—and that’s only one thin slice of the gamut of life’s sleep disorders. What I’m trying to do here is present at least an ideal towards which, on those occasions that permit some degree of control, you can at least strive.

Study some Torah. Even if it’s late, just immerse yourself in some words of Torah, so that you will sleep with those thoughts. Maimonides writes that a person gains most of their wisdom from Torah studied at night. Fill your mind with it, so that it will process in your dreams. Often, solutions to Torah that you study at this time will come to you in your dreams.

A neat trick is to finish by marking the place from where you’ll start learning the next day. That primes your mind for productive learning in the morning.

Relax, maybe have a hot shower, or go for a walk so you will sleep well and wake up refreshed.

Review the day in your mind. Think of something that went well. Think of something that could be fixed or improved. Think of all the wonderful blessings you have in your life—friends, parents, children—all the things that have real value. Don’t beat yourself—this is not an exercise in self-blaming and guilt. The point is to get a clear perspective of yourself and your day, where you are coming from and where you are going to.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Nighttime Activities”
from the series A Multimedia Guide to Jewish Prayer
Chabad.org

This is a direct continuation of yesterday’s “morning meditation” An Introduction to a Prayer. I mentioned that Rabbi Freeman believes the best way to start the day is to prepare yourself the night before. As such, the last thing a religious Jews does before he or she retires to bed is to recite the Bedtime Shema. Rabbi Freeman deconstructs and presents all of the elements of this blessing in his article on Bedtime Countdown, so not only do you have the text of this set of prayers but their purpose and meaning from a Chasidic perspective.

I’ve been told that many of the mitzvot in Judaism aren’t forbidden to the Gentile as long as the Gentile does not perform them in the manner of the Jew. This not only has to do with the specific “mechanics” of performing a mitzvah such as prayer, but also not considering oneself as obligated to performing the mitzvah as is the Jewish person. However, given the number of times Jesus and his disciples refer to prayer in their teachings, I hardly think it is forbidden, in general, for a Christian to pray. What is in question is how or if a Christian should perform anything that resembles the Bedtime Shema.

To answer the question for myself, I perform a truncated version of this blessing at bedtime:

A song of ascents. Praiseworthy is each person who fears HASHEM, who walks in His paths. When you eat the labor of your hands, you are praiseworthy, and it is well with you. Your wife shall be like a fruitful vine in the inner chambers of your home; your children shall be like olive shoots surrounding your table. Behold! For so is blessed the man who fears HASHEM. May HASHEM bless you from Zion, and may you gaze upon the goodness of Jerusalem, all the days of your life. And may you see children born to children, peace upon Israel.

Tremble and sin not. Reflect in your hearts while on your beds, and be utterly silent. Selah.

Master of the universe. Who reigned
before any form was created,
At the time when His will brought all into being —
then as “King” was His Name proclaimed.
After all has ceased to be,
He, the Awesome One, will reign alone.
It is He Who was, He Who is,
and He Who shall remain, in splendor.
He is One — there is no second
to compare to Him, to declare as His equal.
Without beginning, without conclusion —
His is the power and dominion.
He is my God, my living Redeemer,
Rock of my pain in time of distress.
He is my banner, a refuge for me,
the portion in my cup on the day I call.
Into His hand I shall entrust my spirit
when I go to sleep — and I shall awaken!
With my spirit shall my body remain.
HASHEM is with me, I shall not fear.

I do not believe it is forbidden for the Gentile to desire God to be with us during our nightly rest and to watch over us and, if your last thoughts before entering “the realms of Morpheus” are of God, perhaps your first thoughts upon awaking will be of Him as well (and I’ll cover those “first thoughts” in a subsequent “meditation”).

Like my comments in yesterday’s meditation, I wonder just how practical some of Rabbi Freeman’s suggestions are for late night activities. I know the sages would study Torah late into the evening and even all night, but much after 9 p.m., my head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton candy and rusty Brillo pads. Nothing really complicated “computes” very much, and if I try to read, I find myself in that situation where I read a few sentences and immediately forget what I’ve read, or I try to read the same few sentences over and over again. If I’m not feeling sleepy before reading, “cozying up” in my bed becomes my primary desire after about five minutes of pouring over the printed page, regardless of what I’m reading.

Sorry, I’m not a “night owl.”

I suppose that’s one of the reasons I say a short version of the Bedtime Shema, besides avoiding any appearances of trying to pray like a Jewish person. A few minutes of prayer is all I have brain power for before my mind starts wandering down random paths.

I can’t deny that Rabbi Freeman’s principles are sound, and I suppose if I had a lifetime of habit and training in this sort of prayer life behind me as a foundation, it would be second nature by now, but as the Master said, “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Matthew 26:41) As I recall, he was chiding his closest disciples and friends over falling sleep during prayer as well.

I must admit to being kind of glad the Rabbinic rulings don’t apply to non-Jews if, for no other reason, than the following:

The Talmud (Berachot 13b.) is adamant about not sleeping on your back or on your stomach, but only on your side. Maimonides, who was not only a great codifier and philosopher but also one of the great doctors in history, suggests that you get in the habit of sleeping the first part of the night on your left, and end off on your right.

I tend to fall asleep on my right side but also on my stomach. Once asleep, people move around in bed hundreds of times during the night, so how could I possibly have control of my position? This is certainly an area of Jewish thought that completely eludes me. I also wonder about this:

Best insurance for sweet dreams: read tales of tzaddikim in bed until you fall asleep.

Either the Jewish sages weren’t married or they didn’t sleep with their wives. Can you imagine reading late into the night when your wife is trying to sleep right beside you?

“Moshe! Turn out the light. Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep here?”

On the other hand, how many times have you gone to bed in defeat or disgust because some problem or argument could not be resolved and laid to rest before the end of the day? I have far too many nights just like that. What Rabbi Freeman suggests would be far better, it only it were possible.

Be confident that you’ve put this day behind you, cleared up any misdemeanors between you and G-d, and made peace in your heart with other people. Get ready to turn in a wonderful report of all of G-d’s kindnesses and wonders.

I know Rabbi Freeman’s teachings are generally optimistic and encouraging (otherwise, why would we read them), which includes this brief commentary, taken from the lessons of the Rebbe, Rabbi M. M. Schneerson, called Maturity of the Soul:

The ultimate elevation of the soul is to find it has purpose. To discover that it is not here simply to be, but to accomplish, to heal, to make better. In that moment of discovery, the soul graduates from being G-d’s little child to become His representative.

However, I’m not going to let Rabbi Freeman have the last word this time. Someone commented in response to his wee missive with something just as (or more) profound:

Perhaps our purpose is to “to be” G-d’s little child. It may be that we need to go through a life where we feel we need to accomplish, to heal and to make better, only to find ourselves coming full circle into simply “being” G-d’s child. Perhaps the journey of “finding” our purpose is needed to make this discovery …

“click your heels 3 times … you’ve always had the power … you just didn’t believe it”.

Walking in faith, sometimes you can stand up and actually take a step or two and sometimes you fall flat on your butt. Compared to actually walking with God in faith and trust, being a toddler learning how to take his first steps is child’s play.

Meditation, forgiveness, regret, and supernal compassion. Do night blessings always result in a blessed life? What will happen when I wake up tomorrow?

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Walking in the Shadow of God

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Our sages tell us that one who mourns the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash will see its comfort. The Maharal, zt”l, was asked why this should be so. “What difference does it make if one mourns the destruction or not? If one is present in the ultimate future isn’t it obvious that he will experience the nechamah?”

The Maharal explained the need to mourn to attain the nechamah. “Before something comes to a new level, it first must decompose. In the creation of the world, God first made tohu va’vohu; only then could the world come into being. When a seed is planted in the ground, it decomposes. Only then can a tree sprout. The same is true with the gestation of a man or an animal. The seed must decompose before the embryo begins to grow. The same is true regarding an egg, as we find in Temurah 31. First the egg must decompose; then it can become a chick. The reason for this phenomenon is that there must be a lack for more perfection to fill. If there is nothing missing, it is impossible to come to a new level. Similarly, one who does not mourn the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash feels complete. He has no space for the nechamah, since he never experienced the lack in the first place!”

The Shem MiShmuel, zt”l, learns a practical lesson from this same statement. “One who wishes to start again and that his earlier sins should not be considered should make himself like dirt. He must completely nullify all of his senses and desires to God. In this way, he will become a completely new creation. The proof to this is from the case of a ger. Although a ger comes from a distant spiritual place, he is like a newborn baby by making just such a new start. He immerses in a mikveh to symbolize this, and if he is male he does a bris. Why should a Jew who makes a new start be any less?”

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“The Destruction before the Renewal”
Termurah 31

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called “the uncircumcision” by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands – remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. –Ephesians 2:11-13 (ESV)

Maybe the story off the Daf and Paul’s message to the Ephesians aren’t telling the exact same story, but they seem to be related, at least to me. We have two groups, Jews who have been distant from God and who need to “make themselves like dirt” in order to “become a completely new creation”, and Gentiles who were once far off from God but who have been brought near “by the blood of Christ.” The Shem MiShmuel even invokes the imagery of the convert to Judaism, a Gentile who goes down into the mikvah a goy and who rises out of the water “like a newborn baby…making a new start.”

That’s not much different than what I was describing in my previous meditation. As a new creation, we stumble and fall a lot, trying to get used to the new person we are trying to become. Sometimes we fall back and have to relearn skills and sometimes we are trying to advance spiritually and come to a point where we feel like infants again, rather than mature in the faith. Amazingly, having once felt secure in our relationship with God, we might find that we are no longer sure who we are in Him and how we are to serve Him.

I know that description fits me pretty well these days.

Despite the fact that human beings have free will and angels do not, we can still learn a great deal from their behavior. Like the angels, it’s important to acknowledge that there is more than one way to serve God. Whether you are an introvert or extrovert, teacher or rabbi, businessman or stay-at-home mom, there is a place for all of us among the Jewish people. For example, each one of the Twelve Tribes of Israel carried out different tasks. Some engaged in commerce or working the fields, others in religious study, and yet others in military or temple service – and all were essential to the survival of the nation as a whole. Quite frankly, we’re not all supposed to be doing the same kind of work or serving God the exact same way.

The Chofetz Chaim was once approached by a successful businessman who decided to scale down his business so that he could dedicate himself to Torah study. The Chofetz Chaim explained why his decision was wrong by way of a parable. During wartime, if a soldier unilaterally decides to leave his current post to fight in a different capacity, he will be court-martialed. A soldier must obey orders and man the position to which he was assigned. The Chofetz Chaim went on to say that this businessman’s responsibility was to support Jewish institutions and the poor. If he decided to go through with ending his business success, he would be jeopardizing the position God gave him within the Jewish community.

We have to give fellow Jews the space to become the individuals God intended them to be. Otherwise, we will be contributing to unnecessary tension and divisiveness.

-Asher
“Living Like the Angels”
Lev Echad

Blog writer Asher is addressing a primarily Jewish audience and is encouraging them to try not to “turn everyone into replicas” of each other. As much as Judaism is a unique kahal, like Christianity or any other faith or people group, it is made up of individuals, each with a unique purpose in life and over time, that purpose can even change. Asher continues:

Remember, those differences ultimately constitute the entirety of our people. Our strength can be found via our uniqueness as individuals.

Assuming I can apply all that to me, what does it mean for my life as a Christian? Who am I and who does God intend me to be? One thing is for certain…I don’t seem to be like any other Christian I’ve ever met. On the other hand, I have things in common with everyone else in the church.

Yet in some sense, because I claim the name “Christian,” I, like all other believers, have a lot to make up for in how we have treated the Jewish people.

For the one whom You smote they persecuted and they tell about the pain of Your mortally wounded. Add iniquity to their iniquity, and let them not have access to Your righteousness. May they be erased from the Book of Life, and let them not be inscribed with the righteous. –Psalm 69:27-29 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

While David isn’t writing about Christians as such, he is writing about those who have persecuted Israel, and the church has done this in abundance. Only through making ourselves (myself) like dirt and in sincere repentance, can we have any hope, through Christ, of being written in the Book of Life with the righteous.

I bet, as a Christian, you never thought that part of professing your faith and repenting of your sins would be repenting of Christian mistreatment of the Jewish people. If you want to learn more about this, I encourage you to read a post written by my friend Gene Shlomovich called A story of one Christian’s after-death regret about Israel and Judaism. A sobering and mystic tale of just how much we need to turn our hearts.

For God shall save Zion and build the cities of Judah, and they shall settle there and possess it. The offspring of His servants shall inherit it, and those who love His Name shall dwell in it. –Psalm 69:36-37 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

Lest you be wise in your own sight, I do not want you to be unaware of this mystery, brothers: a partial hardening has come upon Israel, until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in. And in this way all Israel will be saved, as it is written,
“The Deliverer will come from Zion,
he will banish ungodliness from Jacob”;
“and this will be my covenant with them
when I take away their sins.” –Romans 11:25-27 (ESV)

The prophesies regarding Israel are clear but what if we who, even calling ourselves Christian, have disdained God’s chosen and holy ones? Can it be that without repentance of our sins against Israel, we will ultimately be rejected by her King?

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’ –Matthew 7:21-23 (ESV)

I’m probably stretching the interpretation of this verse out of its context, but it does illustrate that many of those who feel secure in their salvation have already been lost, even as they call themselves “Christian.” If this is their fate, then what of mine?

O God, You know my folly, and my guilty acts are not hidden from You. Let those who wait for You not be shamed through me, O Lord Hashem/Elohim, Master of Legions; let those who seek You not be humiliated through me, O God of Israel. –Psalm 69:6-7 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

Let not my mistakes, my errors, my sins, prevent another from turning to God through Jesus Christ, or to taint the name and reputation of the Messiah. For I know that…

The peoples will acknowledge You, O God; the peoples will acknowledge You – all of them. Regimes will be glad and sing for joy, because You will judge the peoples fairly and guide with fairness the regimes of the earth, Selah. –Psalm 67:4-5 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

But in verse 8 of that Psalm, when David says, “May God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear Him,” will only Israel be blessed, or will “the peoples;” the nations of the earth, including we non-Jewish Christians, have a blessing too?

Do not cast me off in time of old age; when my strength fails, forsake me not. –Psalm 71:9 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

Our hope is in Jesus Christ but we must never forget that part of that hope is attached to Israel, and Jesus is her first born son and King. He would never betray his own and would never tolerate those who do. In Romans 11, Paul was very clear about how we “grafted in” branches can be easily detached from the root should be become arrogant and self-serving, and should we consider ourselves superior to the natural branches, who after all, have only been removed temporarily.

I’ve been trying to write about my own condition, but I keep coming back to the church; her flaws, her scars, and her needs. I keep wanting to write “I” but I continue to stray into writing “we”. I wonder if God is trying to tell me something. As much as I feel detached from wider Christianity, I cannot divorce it entirely, for the body of Gentile disciples in the Messiah is part of who I am. Yet, I am also this.

Yochanan answered and said to him, “Rabbi, we saw a man driving out demons in your name, but he does not follow us, so we stopped him, on account of the fact that he did not follow us.”

Yeshua said, “Do not stop him, because no one who does an act of power in my name can quickly speak evil of me. For whoever is not for our foes is for us. For all who let you drink a cup of water in my name, because you belong to the Mashiach, amen, I say to you, he will not lose his reward.” –Mark (Markos) 9:38-41 (DHE Gospels)

I’ve never read this statement of the Master before as one that would allow someone not directly attached to the larger body of Christ as still belonging to him, but maybe I can hope that it represents me. Unfortunately, I think the following is also speaking of me.

Yeshua answered and said, “Amen, I say to you that there is no one who has left behind his home or his brothers or his sisters or his father or his mother or his wife or his children or his fields for my sake and for the sake of the good news who will not receive now at this time, with all the persecutions, a hundred times as many houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and fields, and in the age to come, eternal life. However, many of the first will be last, and the last will be first.” –Mark (Markos) 10:29-31 (DHE Gospels)

As much of a reward as there is in following the Messiah as his disciple, it is still a bitter thing to be separated from those whom you love. One day, Jesus cursed a fig tree (Matthew 21:18-19, Mark 11:12-14) as a lesson in lacking faith. We see in both Matthew 21:20-22 and Mark 11:20-21 that the fig tree subsequently withered from its roots. Jesus commented on the withered tree and perhaps on many a withered soul thus:

Yeshua answered and said to them, “Let the faith of God be in you. For amen, I say to you, any one who says to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and moved into the middle of the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, bu trather believes that what he says will be done, so it will be for him as he has said. Therefore I say to you, all that you aks in your prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be so for you. And when you stand to pray, pardon everyone for what is in your heart against them, so that your Father who is in heaven will also forgive your transgressions. But as for you, if you do not pardon, neither will your Father who is in heaven forgive your transgressions.” –Mark (Markos) 11:22-26 (DHE Gospels)

So, to return to the beginning of this meditation, I have made myself like dirt and humble myself before God and man. I turn away from my sins and ask forgiveness from all I have offended. May God wash me and clean me whiter than snow (Psalm 51:7). Then though I may walk alone among humanity and even be set apart from family and the larger community of Christ because of my faith, I ask that I be allowed to humbly walk in the shadow of God. May I never desecrate what is holy, even if the holy one happens to be me.

Torah Portion

Building and Rebuilding the Tabernacle

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Ever watch a child learning to walk? While strolling along confidently, albeit a bit wobbly, he’ll suddenly drop to the floor. With admirable persistence, he’ll usually pick himself right back up on his feet and continue on as if nothing had happened.

The Midrash (Tanchuma 11) says that throughout the seven inaugural days of the Holy Tabernacle, the portable dwelling place built for G-d’s Holy Presence, Moses would construct and disassemble it two or three times each day. The Tabernacle, of course, was a large and extremely heavy structure. Many of its parts were solid wood and gold, and it was tens of feet high. To build and dismantle the entire structure 14 times, or more, in one week must have been incredibly taxing to Moses! Why didn’t he just assemble it the first day, and then leave it standing until the next time G-d instructed the nation to travel?

There was a deeper meaning, however, to the construction of the Tabernacle, corresponding to the efforts of a person committed to spiritual growth. That person drafts a model of holiness, an ideal setting for rising above material and selfish pursuits, insuring the appropriate goals and safeguards are set. As he takes his first few steps of growth, he feels a sense of pride and serenity, assuring himself that he’s on the proper course. But soon, it all crumbles. The habits of the past return, and his best-laid plans for the future appear unattainable.

The continuous building and dismantling of the Tabernacle throughout the inauguration tells us that holy structures are designed to be built and rebuilt before they are completed. The nature of spiritual growth is to move forward and fall back, repeatedly, akin to the toddler’s efforts to walk. Although a toddler first falls immediately, after just a few steps, his strength, balance, and ability improve exponentially. Don’t be afraid when experiencing setbacks on the road to spiritual growth, because we are promised that the results will come — if we get right back up and keep trying!

-Rabbi Mordechai Dixler
Program Director, Project Genesis – Torah.org
“Pick Yourself Up, Brush Yourself Off”
Commentary on Torah Portion Vayakhel–Pekudei
Based on Nesivos Shalom, Pikudei, 279
ProjectGenesis.org

In keeping with my previous blog posts based on Rabbi Tzvi Freeman’s A Multimedia Guide to Jewish Prayer series, I read the next installment in sequence, Climbing Jacob’s Ladder prior to writing this “morning meditation”. Unfortunately, the “Jacob’s Ladder” piece just didn’t inspire me as I had hoped. However, Rabbi Dixler’s commentary did.

Here I am, still sitting at the bottom of the dark, dusty abyss, looking at the ladder that has been placed before me by God, as an invitation to a dance, so to speak. As Rabbi Freeman commented in his Jacob’s Ladder article, What was that ladder? According to the Zohar, it’s the ladder of prayer. That’s what I thought when I wrote another of my morning mediations as well. But then how do I climb?

That reminds me of an old joke:

A tourist from an Iowa farm decides to visit New York City. He’s having fun seeing the sights, visiting the Statue of Liberty, stopping off at Times Square and such, but he’s bought a ticket for a Broadway play and it starts in an hour. Trouble is, he doesn’t know how to find where the play is going to be performed.

He stops a person who appears to be a local and asks, “How do I get to Broadway.”

The gruff New Yorker replies, “Practice.”

How do you climb the ladder of prayer? The answer is the same. Practice.

I know I’ve said something like this before but it can use repeating, which is also part of practicing.

Look at Rabbi Dixler’s story again. In a way, Moses needed the “practice” in putting up and taking down “holiness.” Chances are, the story isn’t literally true, but it is a metaphor that communicates something important to me. In fact, here’s the part that especially speaks to me.

There was a deeper meaning, however, to the construction of the Tabernacle, corresponding to the efforts of a person committed to spiritual growth. That person drafts a model of holiness, an ideal setting for rising above material and selfish pursuits, insuring the appropriate goals and safeguards are set. As he takes his first few steps of growth, he feels a sense of pride and serenity, assuring himself that he’s on the proper course. But soon, it all crumbles. The habits of the past return, and his best-laid plans for the future appear unattainable.

I have better days and worse days, probably just like everyone else. I have better days and worse days in relation to God, too. Sometimes reading the Bible is very uplifting and other times, the messages I read carry nothing but discouragement. The trick for me, in having fallen down again, is figuring out a way to keep discouragement from having the last word.

The nature of spiritual growth is to move forward and fall back, repeatedly, akin to the toddler’s efforts to walk. Although a toddler first falls immediately, after just a few steps, his strength, balance, and ability improve exponentially. Don’t be afraid when experiencing setbacks on the road to spiritual growth, because we are promised that the results will come — if we get right back up and keep trying!

Why does a toddler, who falls down more times than we can count, continue getting back up? Why does the child, who falls, and falls, and falls, keep trying to walk again? Why doesn’t he get to the point of saying, “I’ll never be able to walk,” and then just keep on crawling as a means of locomotion?

I don’t know.

I suppose there’s something built into every child, a sort of developmental “map,” that drives the boy or girl to keep on trying to walk, keep on building blocks, keep on learning their ABCs, keep on trying to read, to write, to count, to dress themselves, to reach a little higher, then a little higher, then a little higher…

You get the idea. If little kids gave up anytime something was difficult, they’d never develop, become bigger, more sophisticated kids, then teens, and finally adults. They’d always be stuck at being toddlers.

Somewhere along the line, we learn that it’s possible to give up. For most of us, that doesn’t prevent us from hitting all of the usual developmental milestones. Most of us keep on trying and today, we’re able to walk, talk, write, read, count, get dressed, feed ourselves, even drive, get a job, have friends, get married, and raise children of our own. But we also learn we can give up on things and sometimes we do. Some of us learn that we can have a relationship with God and other people give up without even trying, “reasoning” that God doesn’t exist.

I think we have a “developmental need” to seek out God, even as we have developmental needs to learn to walk, feed ourselves, and read. All of those developmental milestones I listed require enormous amounts of practice and the more we practice, the better we get at mastering those skills. The more you read (usually), the better reader you become. The same goes for driving a car, fixing a leaky faucet, or playing a musical instrument (it should be noted though, that some people can practice certain skills forever and still not get very good at them).

But while most of us won’t become world-famous classical guitarists, unless we have a significant disability, we will all learn how to walk, talk, read, count, eat, and get dressed, because (unlike playing a musical instrument or performing heart surgery) they are all basic human skills. But they still all take lots of practice. Is having a relationship with God a basic (rather than an advanced) human skill?

I think so. But it’s one that we are able to abandon even before we ever learn it. Even after learning the basic steps of that relationship, we can still lose skills through lack of practice or lack of confidence. We may at one point have climbed the ladder well and then later, for whatever reason, find we are even afraid of trying. Maybe we fell off the ladder and got hurt. Maybe we failed at some other related skill and we don’t have the nerve to face the ladder again.

So here I sit at the bottom of the well, looking at the first rung of the ladder. Perhaps I fell off the ladder or maybe I never started to climb in the first place. Regardless, here I am, like a toddler who tried to walk and landed on his butt. According to Rabbi Dixler, I need to stand and fall and stand and fall, like Moses building and unbuilding the Mishkan, hour after hour, day after day, until I can stand a little longer, walk a little further, and climb the first rung of the ladder.

Don’t be afraid when experiencing setbacks on the road to spiritual growth, because we are promised that the results will come.

PrayingThe mystical aspects of Jewish prayer are enormously complex and well beyond my limited comprehension and abilities. I’m still trying to climb onto the first rung of the ladder and not become discouraged when I fall back off. But just like a toddler learning how to walk, it’s not something someone else can teach me or even help me with. You can’t walk for someone else, they have to learn it on their own.

But after everything I just said about being able to pray and to forge a relationship with God being a “basic human skill” that anyone can learn, why do I still doubt that I’m ever going to be any good at it? Maybe I’ve just been “plain old me” for too long, sitting here staring at the ladder. It goes up awfully high…and you know what happened to Icarus.

Getting to where you need to be is an important step. But nothing is as important as getting out of where you’re at right now.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Hit the Road”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

He erected the Courtyard all around the Tabernacle and the Altar, and he emplaced the curtain of the gate of the Courtyard. So Moses completed the work.

The cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the glory of Hashem filled the Tabernacle. –Exodus 40:33-34 (Stone Edition Chumash)

May it ever be so for you…and for me.

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My Thirsty Soul

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alone-desertA psalm by David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah. O God: You are my God, I seek You. My soul thirsts for You, my flesh longs for You; in a parched and thirsty land with no water. Thus to have beheld You in the Sanctuary, to see Your might and Your glory. For Your kindness is better than life, my lips shall praise You. Thus shall I bless You all my life; in Your Name I shall lift my hands. It is as if my desire is sated with fat and abundance, when my mouth gives praise with joyous language. When I remember You upon my couch, in night watches I meditate upon You. For You have been a help for me; in the shelter of your wings I joyously sing. My soul cleaves after you; Your right arm has supported me. But they seek my soul for destruction; may they come to the depths of the earth. [The enemies] shall drag each one by the sword, the portion of foxes shall they be. The king shall rejoice in God; glorified will be everyone who swears by Him, when the mouth of the liars will be stopped.

–Psalm 63 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

For G-d, the union He is seeking happens in three forms: through Torah, through a mitzvah, and through prayer. It’s much like a love affair.

When we perform a mitzvah, the One Above and the Shechinah (played by us) are united in a kinetic activity within the material world. Think of an embrace uniting two bodies.

When we study Torah, the words of the Shechinah (spoken through our lips) are the words of the One Above. Think of a kiss, uniting two mouths.

And when we pray to Him, the Shechinah and the One Above are in intimate union in the deepest recesses of the spirit, sharing their very souls with one another. Think of mental and soulful communion with another, uniting two spirits.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Making Sense of It All”
From the “A Multimedia Guide to Jewish Prayer” series
Chabad.org

You’ll have to read the entire article by Rabbi Freeman to get all of the background associated with this message, but as I tried to explain in my previous entry in this series of “meditations,” a relationship with God through prayer has almost “romantic” implications in terms of the level of intimacy involved. When reading David’s psalm as I’ve quoted it above, I can certainly see how David describes his longing for God as a man longs for a lover who is far away.

And I realized something else:

When I remember You upon my couch, in night watches I meditate upon You.

This relationship isn’t necessarily forged by God but by David. David was consumed with God, day and night. He prayed to God, wrote and sang songs to God, told others of God’s glory, praised the might and splendor of God. As I read this Psalm this morning, I realized that, while reading it, I felt closer to God. I realized that God is accessible, as long as I remain accessible to Him. Strange as it may sound, I, a lowly mortal being, can either let God into my life, or shut Him out. Seems odd that a mere person can have such control over whether or not to have God present or absent, doesn’t it?

In the wider context of Rabbi Freeman’s commentary on prayer for today, he talks about God being both outside and above and within and below. He is both transcendent of the Universe and intimately involved in it. It is God’s desire not to be “just” the grand and overarching Sovereign of all existence, but to be completely interwoven within its very fabric, including within the fabric of each and every one of us. In some way, He already is, because we all are created in His fabulous image; we each contain his “breath” or Divine essence.

That aspect of G-d is what we call the Divine Presence — Shechinah in Hebrew. That’s a very important word when discussing prayer. The Shechinah is sometimes described as the feminine aspect of G-d, and all of tefillah is about the Shechinah bonding with the One Above, reuniting the last two letters of G-d’s name, vav and hei, with the first two letters.

There is no place where the Shechinah is not found, although there are places where the Shechinah shines with greater intensity than in others. There are places, we say, where the Shechinah must be — as a sort of self-imposed exile. And there are places where She is because that is where She wants to be. Obviously She is those places much more openly.

The pre-eminent manifestation of the Shechinah in this world is within the human consciousness. G-d made a being “in His image” —i.e. a self-conscious, ego-laden being — and breathed His own consciousness into it.

This reminds me of something I read on Derek Lemen’s blog this morning when he was trying to describe the “Mystic Messiah.”

But God is not only transcendent. He is also immanent, present, with us, in the song as well as being the singer. Even now he communes with us in the hills. All the more so he will commune with us in the world to come, when brokenness is healed…

So Messiah is the divine man, one like a man, a Son of Man, but not a mere man. He transcends humanity while also being human. Divinity took on humanity in what had to be an inevitable event. How could God, who made humanity in his image, not take up humanity himself to redeem humanity? The logic of a low view of Messiah is simply rationalism (making our intellect and sensory experience the end-all of knowledge) while the logic of a high view of Messiah is mysticism (an openness to the mystery that we intuit and experience in the world). I choose mysticism.

I suppose this is why I am attracted to Chassidism and Kabbalah to some degree, because it’s the only way I can begin to make sense of a “Divine” Messiah and Lord, both human and more than human. No, I don’t understand it all and frankly, I don’t believe anyone else really understands it all either (in spite of what others may say to the contrary).

But in reading about prayer and the Messiah and God and His “glory” (Shechinah), I see over and over again that God is trying very hard to reach out to us and to reach us as human beings.

In reading Rabbi Eli Touger’s commentary on this week’s Torah Portion, he speaks of something we tend to forget about the Jewish people:

The Hebrew language does not lack synonyms, and there are several other verbs which could have been chosen to begin the verse: (Exodus 35:1) “And Moshe gathered together the children of Israel.” The word employed, vayakhel, is significant, for it implies the fusion of the people into a kahal or communal entity, far more than a collection of individuals. (See Tzafnas Paneach, Klalei HaTorah VehaMitzvos, entry tzibbur.)

A group which gathers together can also move apart, and even while together, the union is not complete. A kahal, by contrast, represents an eternal (For “a collective can never die” [Temurah 15b].) entity that unites individuals in a new framework, highlighting the fundamental bond that joins them.

Extending the metaphor just a bit, we can say that God relates to His people Israel as if they were a single person…as if God were the bridegroom and Israel was his bride, adorned in holiness and loveliness. I’m not quite sure how to extend this into the realm of Christianity. Classic Judaism would say this is not only impossible, but on some level, offensive to Jews. However, if we consider that the “church” (which I have to believe includes we non-Jewish disciples of the Messiah) is “the bride of Christ,” then we too may be considered so incredibly loved by God that we have an intimate and precious relationship with Him.

Christians don’t have a “peoplehood” together in the same manner or fashion as the Jewish people, but we can still be adopted by God and united with Him through the blood, love, and grace of Jesus Christ. But in describing the “peoplehood” of the Jews and the unity of Christians under God, I am not denying that each of us as individuals also enjoy a love relationship with God. I’m not trying to be overly “mushy” or sentimental, and I think that the awesome majesty of God is often watered down by the church, who sees God as some sort of cuddly, cute, cosmic teddy bear. Nevertheless, I cannot deny that ever since the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Eden, God has been making efforts to reconnect and “rebond” with human beings; to restore to our world what was lost in antiquity.

While that level of closeness with God is yet to come, we can still…I can still enjoy a closeness and “personalness” with God, as long as we…as I make the effort to spend time with Him, pondering, searching, reading, studying, and praying.

Now pick up a Jewish prayer book — whichever version you want — and make a quick survey. What is the most common word in these prayers? No, it’s not G-d. Neither is it please. Or sorry. Look again: It’s You — with a capital Y. If your prayer book uses thou, I give you permission to change all such instances to You. Because all of Jewish prayer is about one thing alone: i commune with You.

If that is the only mental focus you have throughout your prayers, you’re doing fine. If it’s missing, the whole essence of prayer is missing. Prayer is a union of these two consciousnesses, that which you feel within you, and that which you feel transcends you.

Once that has occurred, once that union is made, everything is transformed. That is why, unlike studying Torah or performing mitzvahs, prayer has the power to actually change the material world — to heal the sick, to cause rain to fall, to alter the flow of commerce. It is because the union of prayer is so deep, so intimate, of such an essence-level, that it elicits radical, unprecedented change.

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An Invitation From God?

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We were created in G-d’s image. The image of His vision.

From a point before and beyond all things, G-d looked upon a moment in time to be, and saw there a soul, distant from Him in a turbulent world, yet yearning to return to Him and His oneness. And He saw the pleasure He would have from this union.

So He invested His infinite light into that finite image, and became one with that image, and in that image He created each one of us.

As for that moment He saw, that was the moment now.

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

G-d looked upon a moment in time to be, and saw there a soul, distant from Him in a turbulent world, yet yearning to return to Him and His oneness.

To employ a small joke, I resemble that remark. To be fair, a lot of other people within the community of faith also “resemble that remark,” whether they’re willing to admit it or not. In fact, there are times when I wonder how anyone can feel close to God because, after all, He is the Creator of the universe and the Master of all worlds. How can one, small, insignificant human being really matter to compared to all that?

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?
Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor. –Psalm 8:3-5 (ESV)

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. –Matthew 10:29-31 (SEV)

I know, I know. It’s hard to say I’m irrelevant to God in an absolute sense when we have these verses to turn to. The Bible contains all of these little bits and pieces suggesting that human beings have God’s attention but it is nevertheless possible to feel as if you are utterly alone.

Rabbi Freeman, in one of his commentaries on prayer called The View From Within, mentions this.

So here we are, at rock bottom, suffering from all our circumstances because we can’t figure out how on earth any of this could be good. We’re helpless – this is an inherent deficiency in our design and vantage point.

I’m taking this way out of context (the full article can be found at the link I posted above), but it does paint a good picture of where I am right now. Remember from yesterday’s morning meditation that I’m picturing myself as sitting at the bottom of a well. God has just lowered a ladder and it is implied that by praying, I can begin to climb. Today, Rabbi Freeman is saying that even what we pray for is a matter of perspective, as well as how we understand our life circumstances. To illustrate this point, he tells a story:

When the Baal Shem Tov was leader of the chassidim, whenever troubles befell them, he would pray and avert the harsh decrees from heaven. When the Baal Shem Tov passed on and his disciple, the great kabbalist, Rabbi Dov Ber, the Magid of Mezritch, took over the leadership, he would similarly avert these decrees. When the Magid passed on, the most difficult persecutions of their leadership and of their cause began.

The students of the Magid, all of them great, enlightened masters, beseeched him to respond to them from his place in the world beyond. They pleaded, “As long as you were here, you interceded successfully on our behalf. Certainly, from your place in the next world you have yet greater power to intercede!”

The Magid responded to his disciples, “When I was below, I saw these things as harsh and cruel. But from my station up here, I only see the good in all of this. As Rabbi Akiva taught, all that the All-Merciful does is for the good. How could I pray to avert something I see as true goodness?”

His disciples then asked, “If so, our master, what about us? Should we also desist from praying that these decrees be averted?”

“No,” the Magid responded. “Since in your world these appear to be evil, you must do everything in your power to avert them and alter the heavenly decree!”

-Rabbi S.Y. Zevin, Sipurei Chassidim

In real life, we hardly ever hear from people who have ascended into the Heavenly realm (if we do at all) and so we do not, in actuality, have any idea of their perspective. We remain locked into our own, like an ant trying to move a pebble in the dirt. We human beings can look down on that ant with a completely different viewpoint and realize a world the ant has no ability to imagine, let alone experience. But we are unable to impart to that ant how much more there is in the universe around it, even though we see a vast panorama beyond that one small ant pushing a pebble in the dirt.

This is how we are in comparison to God.

But we didn’t create the ant’s universe, nor did we create the ant. The vast majority of us don’t care all that much for ants, and if they get into our homes, we’ll exterminate them without hardly a thought about their deaths. This, we hope and pray, is not how God sees us, and in fact, we hope and pray that God sees us with love and compassion, rather than as insects infesting His world.

But all we have is an ant’s point of view. Unlike the ant, we have the imagination to envision something much more; something we cannot directly experience, but there’s a difference between imagination and knowledge. There’s even a difference between faith and belief and knowledge.

If I were to take Rabbi Freeman’s lesson at face value, I would have to accept that however I currently imagine my experience, it is not at all the same as seen from God’s perspective. What I experience as feelings of emptiness, He may see as something else entirely. But unlike the Magid to his students, God does not speak to we, His creations, to tell us that what we see as evil, God only sees as good.

Or does He?

So here we are, at rock bottom, suffering from all our circumstances because we can’t figure out how on earth any of this could be good. We’re helpless — this is an inherent deficiency in our design and vantage point. And the Mastermind of All Worlds turns to us from His penthouse panorama with banks of video monitors on every creature in the universe, and yells down into your pit, “So how’s the weather down there? Any complaints?”

And this is mitzvah of tefillah! To “petition for all your needs with requests and supplications” three times a day!

It must be, then—because this is the only way out of our conundrum—that for whatever reason (or just out of pure desire), the Creator of this reality is interested in the experience from within, and not just from above. And He wants to bring the two into perfect union.

Tefillah, then, means a union of two worlds, two perspectives, two forms of consciousness: The view from Above unites with the view from within. And we are the matchmakers.

This again, is an interpretation and an imagination as related by Rabbi Freeman’s commentary on prayer. He is telling us that prayer does matter because, in part, it is the joining of our experience with God’s experience and that God desires we share our experience with Him. Of course, Rabbi Freeman is saying all of this from a Jewish perspective and relating it to a Jewish audience, but given the comments on prayer I made yesterday, I don’t think it’s terribly unreasonable for me to apply his lesson to an individual Christian sitting at the bottom of the abyss.

But as I imagine prayer as the means by which I may start climbing out of the pit, Rabbi Freeman has other ideas.

This is vital for us to know before we go any further into the spiritual ascent of prayer, mystic union and higher consciousness: The goal is not a jailbreak out of the dungeon of material existence. The goal is a marriage of two worlds—ours and His. Heaven on earth. Tefillah is where the two kiss.

Sounds very “romantic,” but then in Judaism, God is called “the lover of our souls.” I don’t know if the exact same relationship can be said of God and me relative to Judaism, but perhaps filtered through John 3:16, it might apply because of the Messiah. Because of Jesus, God may also love the Christian soul.

So if prayer isn’t a ladder designed for the human to ascend out of the pit of the world and into the heavens, is it instead an invitation to dance? If so, I’ll have to learn to stand first, and then to walk. Right now, I’m like the wallflower at the high school prom, staring in disbelief at a hand being offered, beckoning me to rise. I hope this isn’t just wishful thinking. We’ll see.

The road

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark.