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74 Days: Contemplating Jumping

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The Rebbe my father told someone at yechidus: Ever since G-d told our father Avraham, “Go from your land etc.” (Genesis 12:1) and it is then written “Avram kept travelling southward,” (Ibid 12:9) we have the beginning of the mystery of birurim. By decree of Divine Providence man goes about his travels to the place where the “sparks” that he must purify await their redemption.

Tzadikim, who have vision, see where their birurim await them and go there deliberately. As for ordinary folk, The Cause of all causes and the Prime Mover brings about various reasons and circumstances that bring these people to that place where lies their obligation to perform the avoda of birurim.

“Today’s Day”
Shabbat, Cheshvan 1, Shabbat Rosh Chodesh, 5704
Compiled by the Lubavitcher Rebbe
Translated by Yitschak Meir Kagan
Chabad.org

There are people who do many good things, but with pessimism—because to them the world is an inherently bad place. Since their good deeds have no life to them, who knows how long they can keep it up?

We must know that this world is not a dark, sinister jungle, but a garden. And not just any garden, but G‑d’s own pleasure garden, full of beauty, wonderful fruits and fragrances, a place where G‑d desires to be with all His essence.

If the taste to us is bitter, it is only because we must first peel away the outer shell to find the fruit inside.

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

I suppose Rabbi Freeman has hit the nail on the head as far as I’m concerned (though of course, he’s not even aware that I exist or of my circumstances). I tend to see the world as a rather negative place, as defined by the negative people who express themselves in it. You don’t have to go far to see what I mean. Watch any news channel on TV or the Internet and you’ll see tragedy, horror, despair, murder, and many other depressing and disheartening things. The debates and controversies surrounding the upcoming Presidential elections are just another reason to consider our world a negative place. It doesn’t matter which political party you belong to, the supporters of one person invariably use any trick and tactic they can find to sully the reputation their opponent’s supporters. The world of religion and religious blogging is no better, it seems.

According to the Rebbe, “Tzadikim, who have vision, see where their birurim await them and go there deliberately,” however, for the rest of us, “the Cause of all causes and the Prime Mover brings about various reasons and circumstances that bring these people to that place where lies their obligation to perform the avoda of birurim.” In other words, if you are a truly righteous person, you know where you must go and what you must do in order to accomplish the purpose of your life. For everyone else, God leads us to the places we must go and shows us what we must do, but it’s up to us to correctly interpret these events and then take the correct action.

Which is why, for most of us, life and God and our purpose can seem like we’re endlessly trying to solve a mystery by traveling down a dark street late at night hoping for illumination.

This week’s Torah Portion is Noah, which tells a narrative even most non-religious people know quite well. But according to Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski in his Growing Each Day commentary for Cheshvan 1, it tells me something more specific.

God said to Noah, “Enter … into the ark.”

–Genesis 7:1

The Hebrew word for ark, teivah, has two meanings: it can mean “an ark,” and it can also mean “a word.” In the above verse, the latter meaning tells us that God instructed Noah to “enter into the word.” Rabbi Moshe of Kobrin expounded on this theme, explaining that when we pray, we should “enter into the words,” i.e. totally immerse ourselves into each word of prayer, as though the word is encompassing us.

A listener once asked him: “How can a big human being possibly enter into a little word?” Rabbi Moshe answered, “People who consider themselves bigger than the word are not the kind of person we are talking about.”

The Talmud states that people’s prayers are not accepted unless they efface themselves before God (Sotah 5a). God abhors those who are egotistical, and therefore the prayers of a vain person are not likely to be received favorably.

People preoccupied with their egos remain external to their prayers. The truly humble person feels small enough to “enter” even the tiniest word.

Today I shall…

try to throw myself entirely into my prayers by setting aside those thoughts and feelings that would inflate my ego.

While I don’t think of myself as someone who struggles with an inflated ego, it has already been pointed out to me (correctly, I might add) that I don’t trust God as I should. I don’t “enter into the word” with complete abandon, trusting that God will take care of my well-being. Terrible things happen to good people every day. Why would I be exempt?

That goes for trying to solve the mystery of my path of faith as well. If I make one decision, how will I manage the consequences? If I make no decision, that’s a decision and it has consequences. Even standing still is really moving backwards. If only all of the “egos” on the web who casually malign their brothers of the faith and the Jewish people (who are sometimes one in the same) never seem to throw themselves entirely into their prayers, setting aside those thoughts and feelings that would inflate their egos, at least as evidenced by their online behaviors.

Maybe it is better to ignore the world and to simply throw myself into a life of prayer, study, and contemplation.

There was a story about a Torah scholar who died young… – 13a-b

The Gemara elaborates and tells the story of a Torah scholar who died young. This man’s wife came to the Beis HaMidrash carrying his tefillin, and she began to complain about his shortened life. Although this student was very diligent, and no one was able to respond to this woman’s bemoaning, finally Eliyahu discovered and exposed the tragic flaw which this young man and his wife possessed.

It is noteworthy that this woman specifically brought her late husband’s tefillin with her, as if it indicated more of a reason why he did not deserve to die. Maharsha explains that she brought the tefillin to increase the anguish of the other students who would see her. Sefer Gilyonei HaShas of R’ Yaakov Engel explains that tefillin specifically represents the connection which we have to Torah study. Her argument was sharper, as she demonstrated that her husband learned Torah and was bound up with Torah as his life pursuit.

Therefore, this woman took her husband’s tefillin as she circulated around the shuls and the Batei Midrash to demonstrate that her husband did not simply learn Torah, but he was bound up with the Torah, just as the tefillin is tied around one’s arm.

Daf Yomi Digest
Distinctive Insight
“Bound in Torah”
Shabbos 13

But even reading this commentary convinces me that there is an insufficient perspective being applied here. It’s not what you study and learn but what you do with it that counts. I sometimes define the difference between Christianity and Judaism as the difference between what you believe and what you do, but that’s not always a very fair comparison. In some aspects of Jewish thought, the person who studies Torah, binding themselves in it so to speak, is of greater value than the simple person who cannot study but only tries to live a descent life as best they can.

A person can be a Jew just by being born of a Jewish mother and on that virtue, is a member of the covenant and one of God’s chosen people. A Christian can be born anybody and all by itself, that means practically nothing. A person is only a Christian after making a decision and a declaration. After coming to faith and confessing Christ, the only way to tell a Christian from a secular person is by what they do. Even then, many secular people behave more righteously than many Christians.

However, faith and belief are invisible. Only God knows what is in a person’s heart. It is what we do that defines us, sometimes because of what we believe and sometimes in spite of it. When God leads each of us, even me, into any given situation on any given day, there’s an expectation about what we’re supposed to do there. Should we turn left or right? Should we go forward or back? From God’s perspective, the answer is obvious. From a human’s point of view, it can seem like an impossible puzzle, or we might even miss the fact that a decision must be made at all.

Or, we know what we should do and are just loathe to do it. But if God has sent us to “reveal a spark,” so to speak, who are we to say we won’t do it or pretend we don’t understand what He is asking of us?

The answer is that we are human and flawed.

It would be easy just to ignore my dilemmas by ignoring God, but God or my conscience won’t let me do that. But it still feels like He’s asking me to jump off a cliff into a bottomless void with only the promise that He’ll make me fly to sustain me.

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Life Under Repair

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Question: I’ve been enjoying the philosophy articles on Aish.com. The approach to life resonates with me much more than the Western style of consumerism and media hype. Regarding the obligatory nature of mitzvot, however, I think sometimes humans have to disregard the boundary and be disobedient against the command. It might be painful, but I believe you come away with a higher appreciation that God and His commands are ultimately correct. Do you agree with this thinking?

The Aish Rabbi Replies: You have touched on a deep truth, but ultimately your principle is mistaken. The Talmud states: “In a place where a reformed sinner stands, even a righteous tzaddik does not stand.” The idea is that after having erred, you can analyze your negative acts, learn from them, and use that knowledge as a foundation to motivate you further.

While all this seems to imply that it is better to make mistakes and then correct them, rather than never have made the mistake in the first place, that is not true.

Let’s take the mundane example of the rule: “Always look both ways before crossing the street.” There are two ways to learn this lesson: 1) Listen to the advice of teachers and parents to look both ways before crossing, or 2) cross recklessly, get hit by a car, and then while lying in the hospital acknowledge a lesson well-learned.

The problem in choosing the second path is that there is always a residual effect from our mistakes. A teenager who experiments with drugs may grow up to realize the dangers, but a lot of brain cells have been killed in the meantime.

“Intentional Mistakes”
from the “Ask the Rabbi” series
Aish.com

(I almost didn’t post the first picture that appears in today’s “meditation” because of its provocative elements, but of all the similar images I found, this one came closest to communicating what I wanted to say.)

In a comment on Gene Shlomovich’s recent blog post How Jesus may have viewed conversion to Judaism, I mentioned how I corrected one of my mistakes:

To be fair, many non-Jewish “Messianics” were taught for years or even decades that there was “One Law for the native-born and the alien” and that information is well ingrained into their psyche and identity. Now that “the movement” has evolved and more accurate information is available relative to how the Bible defines the roles of “Messianic” Gentiles and Jews, it is very hard for some to surrender a status or role that they’ve become quite used to.

I remember when FFOZ (First Fruits of Zion) first announced that they had been wrong in supporting the One Law position and that they were correcting their teachings and organizational stance. I felt angry and betrayed and shot off a very pointed comment or two on Facebook in response. It was like being given an important and valuable gift and becoming comfortable with it, then having it suddenly ripped away.

I suppose I could have become one of those angry “deniers” and continued to “demand my right” to “Torah obligation,” but I started to think. FFOZ had financially just shot themselves in the foot. A large number of their constituents simply abandoned them, abruptly and significantly reducing their income. Why would they do that when in any practical sense, even if privately they’d come to the conclusion that One Law was unsustainable Biblically and theologically, they should have publicly maintained their OL position in order to make sure they survived as a ministry? Their decision only made sense if moral and spiritual honesty were more important to them than an income.

I became curious and started investigating. At about the same time, I started looking at my wife’s pursuit of her Jewish identity as an individual and as a member of the Jewish community through different eyes. Long story short, I realized that I had been wrong in my One Law assumptions and shifted my perceptual and theological paradigm accordingly.

But to say that it was difficult is a gross understatement. A lot of people aren’t capable of that kind of change. I even recently wrote about how difficult it is to “share Abraham” so to speak, and accept that only certain blessings are passed down to the nations (Christians) through Israel. Exchanging self-entitlement for a more mature reality is very hard and not everyone is going to accept it.

Frankly, and not to necessarily contradict the Aish rabbi from whom I quoted above, I don’t see how some mistakes can be avoided. I mean, we all make mistakes. Some are actually part of the human developmental learning process. Take walking for example. When a small child is first learning how to stand and walk, the child falls a lot. Falling isn’t a mistake at this stage of development, it’s a requirement and it’s perfectly normal and expected. No small child has ever (to the best of my knowledge) spontaneously stood and walked with absolute precision on the very first try, and never fell back to the floor. Everybody falls the first time, or the first dozen times, or the first few hundred times.

I think trying to understand God and trying to understand who we are in God is like learning how to stand and walk. We get a lot of things wrong at first, but that’s to be expected. Just conceptualizing the existence of God is tremendously difficult, and integrating faith, trust, hope, and spirituality into a daily lifestyle can escape even some of the best of us. I would hardly expect anyone to become “good at it” right off the bat. In fact, most of us never get really “good at it.” We continue to struggle, to learn, and we periodically fall flat on our faces.

That’s how I’d characterize my own spiritual development, anyway. I suspect that if we were all honest with ourselves and everyone else, every person of faith would admit to the same thing. Only pride keeps us from doing so. We’re afraid of looking foolish. We’re afraid of what other people will say. We’re afraid of just letting go of all that and, like a little child, accepting what God has given us from His abundant store of gifts.

For seven days of Sukkot, Jews walk around in circles, carrying an assortment of green and yellow flora. Then, on Simchat Torah, they dance in circles carrying Hebrew scrolls, working up to a frenzy.

Did I say dance? Well, it’s more like marching, your hands over the next guy’s shoulders, singing and stomping as you march to . . . the same place you started from. Repeat until you plotz. (Yiddish: collapse)

Now for my confession…

When I was first invited, cajoled and nudniked to join the circular festivities, I was more than hesitant. I attempted to explain that I didn’t see the point of walking in such a way that you don’t get any further than where you started. Needless to say, the argument was ignored, and I was swept into the circle whether I liked it or not.

And I felt stupid. For about the first 40,000 circuits. After that, I forgot about myself and how I felt and what I was doing and why I was doing it and whether I was stupid and that I was there at all. And that’s when the circle became good. Very good.

It was good exactly due to that which I had subliminally feared. Because as I stand here, I am I. In the circle, that I dissolves into we. And in that very act of transcendence, that loss of self, there is unbounded joy.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Why Jews Dance in Circles”
Commentary on Sukkot and Simchat Torah
Chabad.org

While being embarrassed and feeling foolish (and avoiding joy) aren’t exactly mistakes, these are experiences that, if we allow them to, will prevent us from correcting mistakes and lead us into a lifestyle based on error and fear. In fact, many people try so hard to avoid embarrassment, foolishness, and the tremendous effort that change requires once it’s discovered, that they live in self-denial, never even permitting themselves to realize that what they are living is a mistake. That is why so many people (and I know atheists must think this about religious people) can “stand their ground” and “stand up for their rights” with total conviction of purpose, and still be dead wrong.

But remember, even in the lesson we learned from the Aish Rabbi, it’s only a mitzvah if we realize we made a mistake and corrected it. And, remember as well that it would have been better to never have made the mistake in the first place.

We can’t avoid making a mistake. We fall so that we can learn to pick ourselves up. Although mistakes are regrettable, they are also part and parcel of the human experience. Falling down is an obvious mistake when our intention was to walk. Many human mistakes are far more subtle and even when we want to be honest, it can be difficult to see past our own assumptions, prejudices, and pride.

To conquer even our unintentional and unconscious errors, we must learn to question everything about ourselves. Why do I believe in such-and-thus? Is it because I grew up believing this? Did someone teach me this belief when I was cognitively or spiritually immature? Examining the same information now that I am more educated, more mature, and more stable, will I reach the same conclusions that I did before?

These are all very dangerous questions and they can make us feel extremely insecure in areas that are absolutely the foundation of our existence. You don’t have to question your faith in God, but you do have to question what that faith means and how it is to be expressed. While people can change, most people don’t once they arrive at a certain comfortable plateau. The trick is never to completely rest on that plateau. It’s not your destination. Keep climbing, even if you feel uncomfortable, even if you feel nervous or foolish. The truth is always one level higher than you’ve ascended so far.

Or like Rabbi Freeman, after dancing in pointless circles the first 40,000 times or so, eventually, you’ll see that pursuing the joy of God is more important than how you feel or what you look like to others. Fixing mistakes and repairing your life is a mitzvah. So is longing for God. The two go hand in hand.

Climb. Dance.

 

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My Hope Comes From The Lord

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Worry is self-humiliation. Trust is dignity.

To worry is to worship the world. To fall on your knees in dread and grovel before it.

To trust is to lift up your eyes and stand as tall as the heavens. To live with nothing else but the bond between G‑d above and you below.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Just the Two of You”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe, Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

OK, I need to review my own lessons on trust. Being human, I sometimes forget that reality exists on more than just a human level. As a person of faith, I believe in God, but it takes a person of trust to actually rely on God to do, if not the impossible, then the highly improbable. I speak of the topic I chronicled recently as Vain Hopes.

Yes, it’s no fun when your spouse tells you that the most important single aspect of your existence, your faith, is embarrassing to her, but that’s hardly something I can change. So what’s next?

Understanding. I can’t change who I am (well, I can, but that would involve not being a Christian anymore and I’m not willing to do that), but I can try to better understand who she is. Maybe that will be some comfort.

So who is she? Expanding on the question somewhat, what is being “Jewish?”

In a very real sense, I’m totally unqualified to answer that question since I’m not Jewish. Even if I received documentation tomorrow that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that my mother was Jewish (which I’m sure would come as a complete shock to her) and that all of her ancestors were Jewish in a long line going back as far as could be recorded, thus establishing that I’m Jewish, it still wouldn’t give me something I would sorely lack: an actual, lived, experiential, Jewish life. So how can I describe something I’m not and that I have no experience in being?

Really, I can’t. You would think Jewish people could, but actually, it’s more complicated than it seems.

I’m just out of college and struggling to forge my identity. I have strong Jewish feelings, but am meeting some really nice non-Jewish women and am having trouble articulating why Judaism is so central to my identity.

Can you tell me why I should hang in there with the Jewish people?

“Why be Jewish?”
Ask the Rabbi
Aish.com

Please click the above link and read the Rabbi’s answer, but personally, I found his response rather disappointing. What the Rabbi outlines as the advantages of Judaism, living a moral life, specific Jewish values, and so on, could as well be applied to just about any person who follows the lessons of what God gave to the world, “a set of ‘instructions for living’ – the Torah.”

However, the answer to another Ask the Rabbi question may prove more illuminating.

To categorize Judaism “only” as a religion is a misunderstanding. The Jewish people are a nation, who share a common land (Israel), a common religion (Judaism) and a common history (dating back to Abraham).

What is amazing is how the Jews have maintained their distinct national identity having been scattered to the four corners of the globe. This achievement was possible only because of our adherence to the Torah, the “constitution” of the Jewish people. The Torah lays out the scope of personal rights and obligations, as well as laws covering lifecycle, business practice, medical ethics, parenting, married life, etc. Observance of the Torah was thus the thread which kept the Jewish people alive, and thriving, in every place and time.

Judaism cannot be classified as a race, because anyone can become a Jew by converting. The convert is considered a Jew in every regard, and his relationship with God is the same level as that of every other Jew. Come to Israel and you will find black Jews, oriental Jews, Indian Jews, etc.

This is what Christianity lacks. We can enter into a covenant relationship with God through Jesus Christ, and draw close to his covenant community Israel, but we don’t become what the Rabbi describes above; a nation, a people, a unified whole that transcends the boundaries of religion, and if you include those few who convert, ethnicity and race.

Well, that’s not quite true. Anyone, regardless of national origin, race, color, ethnicity, gender, or any other attribute, can come to Christ and worship the God of Israel. But we are of the many nations and the Jews, regardless of where they were born, what secular citizenship they may possess, and whether or not they were born of a Jewish mother or converted from the nations, are uniquely of Israel, and though scattered across the planet, form a united nation before God.

Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks, in his commentary on Torah Portion Nitzavim, said:

As the commentators point out, the phrase “whoever is not here” cannot refer to Israelites alive at the time who happened to be somewhere else. That cannot be since the entire nation was assembled there. It can only mean “generations not yet born.” The covenant bound all Jews from that day to this. As the Talmud says: we are all mushba ve-omed me-har Sinai, foresworn from Sinai (Yoma 73b, Nedarim 8a). By agreeing to be God’s people, subject to God’s laws, our ancestors obligated us.

Hence one of the most fundamental facts about Judaism. Converts excepted, we do not choose to be Jews. We are born as Jews. We become legal adults, subject to the commands and responsible for our actions, at the age of twelve for girls, thirteen for boys. But we are part of the covenant from birth. A bat or bar mitzvah is not a “confirmation.” It involves no voluntary acceptance of Jewish identity. That choice took place more than three thousand years ago when Moses said “It is not with you alone that I am making this sworn covenant, but with … whoever is not here with us today,” meaning all future generations including us.

But how can this be so? Surely a fundamental principle of Judaism is that there is no obligation without consent.

Please read the full commentary by clicking the link above, but the reality of the Jewish people and Judaism, is that it exists and is obligated to God beyond the simple will of the individual. When you are born a Jew, the mitzvot are yours, whether you want them or not. In the best of all possible circumstances, you are taught to live a Jewish life and you learn to love that life as a Jew before the Throne of Hashem. Judaism chooses the Jew, not the other way around (apart from converts).

In Exodus 4:22, God directly refers to Israel as “My child, my firstborn, Israel.” Whoever and whatever we are as Christians, we do not enter into the presence of God except through Israel.

You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews.

–John 4:22 (ESV)

If we consider the Jewish Messiah as the firstborn of Israel, this point becomes even more specific.

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

–John 14:6 (ESV)

The irony for me is that my closest Jewish relative is my wife, and not for a split second would she consider Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, nor see herself and her people as the authors of my salvation through Christ.

More’s the pity, and I pray that it won’t always be that way.

None of this is doing a very good job of defining who a Jew is or what Judaism is, at least down to the finest details. In fact, it gets a little more confusing when you consider the Ask the Rabbi answer to Definition of a Jew:

Torah methodology is universal – for Jews and non-Jews, religious and secular, Israel and the Diaspora, left and right. The Torah is alive and relevant for today. And for the Jewish people, the ability to effectively communicate this message is our single most important undertaking.

Simchat TorahThis makes it seem like what the Torah contains, at least at its core, is a set of instructions that applies to all of humanity, not just the Jewish people, but it is the responsibility of the Jews to “effectively communicate this message.” That sounds almost evangelical, until you realize the mission of Judaism isn’t to make the people of the nations into Jews, but to teach them/us about the One true God of Israel. In modern traditional Judaism, that extends no further than the level of the Noahide, but from Christianity’s point of view, we enter a whole new world when we know God by accepting Christ.

Where that world takes us is a journey beyond imagination, and one that is unique, in many ways, to each individual. In some ways, as is in my case, it actually leads somewhat away from its source; away from Judaism, at least at the personal level, since most Jews cannot tolerate a great deal of Christianity in their lives. But while faith is easy, trust comes very hard, especially in the presence of disappointment.

However, as Rabbi Freeman stated at the beginning of this “meditation,” “To trust is to lift up your eyes and stand as tall as the heavens. To live with nothing else but the bond between G‑d above and you below.”

Please forgive me if I take the liberty of applying those words of wisdom to all of us and not just to the Jewish people.

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

–Psalm 121:1-2 (ESV)

When you’re in the middle of the journey and it all seems so futile and hopeless, then the path has reached its end, regardless of what actually lies before you. But when there is hope, when you lift your gaze out of the dust and darkness and raise your head up to see the light, the journey begins again as if you had just taken your first step.

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In Your Prayers

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PrayingMoshe was going to die before entering Eretz Yisroel. Yet, his tefillos were answered, and he was given permission to view the holy land, and to see a vision of the land and the history of the Jewish people. When this consent was granted, the verse seems to use a double expression. First, Moshe was told “lift up your eyes”. This directive was followed with the instructions “and see”, which apparently is the obvious purpose of his having lifted up his eyes.

One of the objectives of tefillah is for a person to arrive at an understanding that “the ways of Hashem are correct”, and that everything Hashem does is for the best. This appreciation is realized when one’s prayers are directed toward building a relationship with Hashem, a devotion based upon trust. When a person seeks out Hashem, he arrives at a state of (Tehillim 34:11): “those who seek Hashem will not lack any good.” Finally, through prayer a person achieves the ability “to see – וראה ” and to feel a sense of tranquility and satisfaction in his heart to truly accept all that Hashem does as perfect.

When Moshe ascended to the mountain and looked across at Eretz Yisroel, this might have seemed as if his prayers were not fulfilled, contrary to what the Gemara says. Yet, at this point, Moshe’s degree of perception of the will of Hashem was complete. He now felt totally accepting of the decree for him not to enter the land, and he perceived how this was for the best. He was now satisfied that there could be no better answer to his prayers other than to obey the command for him to remain on the east side of the Jordan, and not to enter the land.

גדולה תפילה שהרי משה נענה … שנאמר עלה ראש הפסגה
“Davening – Lift your eyes and see”
Daf Yomi Digest
Distinctive Insight
Berachos 32

What I’m going to say has been said before, I’m sure. In fact, I’m sure that at some point, I said all this before, too. And yet, to read this “insight” on Berachos 32 and to consider the life and impending death of Moses is just to precious and important not to share.

I can’t even begin to imagine the heartbreak Moses must have experienced at being allowed to view the entire Land of Israel, and yet knowing that instead of being allowed to lead his people into the Land, he was going to die. He was going to have to let Joshua take over his work. Most of all, he was going to have to trust God in a way that he never had before.

Think about it.

All of the times when God was about to wipe out the Children of Israel, Moses was there to intervene on their behalf. When tens of thousands were dying of a plague or poisonous snake bites, Moses prayed. When the Children of Israel were at war and losing a battle, Moses prayed. The Children of Israel survived down to the last man, woman, and child because Moses was there to protect them, even from God.

And now he is looking across the expanse of the Land of promise and he knows that whatever happens after this point, he won’t be there to protect his people anymore.

What a bitter day it must have been for him.

And yet, according to the Midrash, Moses was able to finally arrive at a sort of peace about everything. After all, what choice did he have? But then, what choice to we have?

I’ve talked about trusting God before and I’m sure I mentioned that it isn’t easy. It isn’t easy when you desperately need a job and you are trusting God to provide sufficiently for your family until you find suitable employment. It isn’t easy to watch your wife undergo yet another round of chemotherapy, never knowing what the outcome will be and if the tumors will shrink or grow. It isn’t easy living a life that presents only the illusion of control over every critical detail, and realizing that an invisible and almost always silent God is the one who opens His hand and provides for your every need.

But when Moses looked over the Land of Israel for the first and last time, knowing his lifespan was measured only in minutes, he understood and was “satisfied that there could be no better answer to his prayers other than to obey the command for him to remain on the east side of the Jordan, and not to enter the land.” If only that sense of satisfaction and grace could be experienced by the rest of us.

A person who learns to pray properly can understand what the words of the Chazon Ish in “Emunah Ubitochon”:

“When a person merits becoming aware of the reality of the Almighty’s existence, he will experience limitless joy. His soul is enveloped in sanctity, and it is as though the soul has left the body and floats in the upper Heavens. When a person transcends to this level, an entirely new world is open to him. It is possible for a person to be momentarily like a celestial being, [while at the same time] in this world. All of the pleasures of this world are as nothing compared to the intense pleasure of a person cleaving to his Creator.”

Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Cleave to the Almighty in Prayer, Daily Lift #565”
Aish.com

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Questions That Would Cross a Rabbi’s Eyes

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Hashem, your God, shall you follow and Him shall you fear; His commandments shall you observe and to His voice shall you hearken; Him shall you serve and to Him shall you cleave.

–Deuteronomy 13:5 (Stone Edition Chumash)

Yeshua said to him, I am the way and the truth and the life. No one will come to the Father except through me.

–John 14:6 (DHE Gospels)

The most important men in town will come to fawn on me
They will ask me to advise them,
Like a Solomon the Wise
“If you please, Reb Tevye?”
“Pardon me, Reb Tevye?”
Posing problems that would cross a rabbi’s eyes

from the song, “If I Were a Rich Man”
by Sheldon Hamick and Jerry Bock
Fiddler on the Roof (1971)

I ponder this mystery off and on but it’s a profound one, at least to me. The church often asks the question, “Were the Israelites saved?” Opinions vary. A very literalist interpretation of John 14:6 says, “no,” since Jesus wasn’t there at Sinai. But then I’ve heard that the salvation of Jesus spans across all time forward and back, so that anyone who has faith in God is saved by Jesus.

OK, wait. Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse?

And he trusted in Hashem, and He reckoned it to him as righteousness. –Genesis 15:6 (Stone Edition Chumash)

Abraham trusted in God and God alone and it was counted to him (by God) as righteousness. A Christian would say that Abraham’s faith in God saved him, just as our faith in Jesus saves us. See what I mean about “posing problems that would cross a rabbi’s eyes?” Are we talking about two paths of salvation, one through God and another through Jesus?

I don’t think that’s a sustainable viewpoint given the overarching message of the Bible to love and trust God and God only. On the other hand, if we invoke the deity of Jesus, then I suppose the problem is solved. If you have faith in Jesus then you have faith in God and vice versa. End of story.

Or is it?

For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. –Hebrews 10:4 (ESV)

So what exactly were the ancient Israelites doing, then? Why did God command them to perform animal sacrifices if they didn’t do any good?

Why do I need your numerous sacrifices? says Hashem. I am sated with elevation-offerings of rams and the fat of fatlings; the blood of bulls, sheep and goats I do not desire…Bring your worthless meal-offerings no longer, it is incense of abomination to Me. –Isaiah 1:11,13 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

Obviously that didn’t work. I mean, God doesn’t seem to want the sacrifices that He previously said He wanted. Seems kind of fickle of God, doesn’t it.

Except it’s impossible for God to be fickle or inconsistent. So what’s the answer?

What does God want and who does He want us to have faith and trust in? If no one comes to the Father except through the Son, why didn’t He teach the ancient Israelites to worship the future Jesus instead of the God of Heaven? Why didn’t God teach Abraham to have trust in Jesus instead of Him, thus counting trust in Jesus as righteousness? Why did God bother teaching the ancient Israelites the sacrificial system in the first place?

Maybe I’m being too literal. Maybe I’m not being “mystic” enough. But it does seem like a head scratcher.

I keep thinking I’m on the cusp of an answer but somehow it always eludes me. I keep thinking that the key is “faith and trust in God.” Of course the blood of bulls and goats doesn’t save. It never did. What saved was that the ancient Israelites trusted in God and agreed to do everything He told them to.

Moses came and summoned the elders of the people, and put before them all these words that Hashem had commanded him. The entire people responded together and said, “Everything that Hashem has spoken we shall do!” –Exodus 19:7-8 (Stone Edition Chumash)

Faith and trust, and then obedience. It’s not so much that what we do has the power to save, it’s that what we do is a reflection of our faith and trust. If God tells us to sacrifice animals at such-and-thus a place in such-and-thus a manner, the sacrifices aren’t as important as our obedience to Him. If we perform the same sort of sacrifice in the same place and in the same manner as before, but not because of faith and trust, the sacrifices are meaningless. It’s always about faith and trust. So that takes care of the salvation of the ancient Israelites and Abraham before them.

But how to we deal with Jesus and “no one comes to the Father except through me?” It would seem as if all one has to do is have faith and trust in God the Father to be saved. What does Jesus have to do with it?

OK, I know I said before that Jesus does matter. After all, neither we people among the nations nor our distant ancestors stood at Sinai with the Israelites (mixed multitude notwithstanding), and so we do not possess the ancient covenant relationship with God. It is completely understandable that we Gentiles cannot “come to the Father except through the Son.” But what about the Jews?

I’m not so sure I can answer that one. To say that they are “saved” through Sinai means that there is two salvational paths, one for the Jews (Moses) and one for the Gentiles (Jesus). To say that only Jesus saves deconstructs the Sinai covenant and renders Judaism invalid post-Jesus. To say that only Moses saves means we have to throw out the New Testament, and salvation for the Gentiles only comes from conversion to Judaism or obedience to the Noahide Laws.

Traditional Christians would say that salvation through Jesus replaced the Law of Moses and they solve the question that way. Traditional Jews would say that the New Testament is invalid and Gentiles must either convert to Judaism or become Noahides and they solve the question that way. There is a group who tries to split the difference and says that everyone must comply to the terms of both the Mosaic and Davidic covenants and essentially behave both like Jews and like Christians, but as you’ve seen on this and other blogs in the Messianic blogosphere, that becomes hopelessly confusing relative to retaining any sense of Jewish vs. non-Jewish identity.

So what is the answer? I don’t know. I know that’s rather disappointing, but I’ve said numerous times before that I’m not a Bible scholar or historian. I’m a reasonably intelligent human being (depending on the day of the week, how much sleep I’ve had, and whether or not my wife is upset with some dumb thing I did), but the niggling little details of how to interpret the scriptures and the nuances of theology, doctrine, dogma, and so on escapes me.

But does that mean it’s forbidden for “ordinary Christians” to ask questions and pose problems about our faith? Gee, I hope not.

So am I stuck? No. By faith, I worship the One God of Israel. I know that my salvation hinges upon the truth of the Jewish Messiah. He is the vine and I am the branch. I will follow him in search of my answers and believe that ultimately, all truth of God is in him and through him. How it all works behind the scenes, I don’t know. Maybe someone out there does. I know I’m asking for another “punishing” debate and people will question my convictions, my intelligence, and maybe even my sanity.

But I can’t stop asking questions just because people are going to give me a hard time about them.

In the end, there’s God. In the beginning, too.

A prayer of Moses, the man of God. O Lord, You have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. Before the mountains were born, and You brought forth the earth and the inhabited world, and from everlasting to everlasting, You are God. You bring man to the crushing point, and You say, “Return, O sons of men.” For a thousand years are in Your eyes like yesterday, which passed, and a watch in the night. You carry them away as a flood; they are like a sleep; in the morning, like grass it passes away. In the morning, it blossoms and passes away; in the evening, it is cut off and withers. For we perish from Your wrath, and from Your anger we are dismayed. You have placed our iniquities before You, [the sins of] our youth before the light of Your countenance. For all our days have passed away in Your anger; we have consumed our years as a murmur. The days of our years because of them are seventy years, and if with increase, eighty years; but their pride is toil and pain, for it passes quickly and we fly away. Who knows the might of Your wrath, and according to Your fear is Your anger. So teach the number of our days, so that we shall acquire a heart of wisdom. Return, O Lord, how long? And repent about Your servants. Satiate us in the morning with Your loving-kindness, and let us sing praises and rejoice with all our days. Cause us to rejoice according to the days that You afflicted us, the years that we saw evil. May Your works appear to Your servants, and Your beauty to their sons. And may the pleasantness of the Lord our God be upon us, and the work of our hands establish for us, and the work of our hands establish it. –Psalm 90

Just a small note: this is my 500th meditation if anyone is intereseted.

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Above All Else, God Needs To Feel Compassion

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Fear is the opposite of genuine faith. Fear comes from a place of faithlessness. When we have real confidence in God, fear is driven out. For the person of faith, fear is actually irrational.

Thought for the Week
“Fear Not”
Commentary on Torah Portion Devarim
First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ)

There are times when moving forward is not enough. There are times when you can’t just change what you do, how you speak and how you think about things. Sometimes, you have to change who you are. You need to pick both feet off the ground and leap.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“The Quantum Leap”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

And while the future’s there for anyone to change, still you know it’s seems it would be easier sometimes to change the past.

Jackson Browne
Fountain of Sorrow
from the album Late for the Sky (1974)

Uh-huh.

I keep thinking about the victims of the Aurora, Colorado theater shootings. I’m sure some of the people who were there, some of the wounded, some of those who died, were probably religious. Some of them probably had faith. Some of them probably loved God. Did those people have no fear in the dark, choking on whatever gas the shooter released into the air, hearing the gunshots, the screams of the victims, seeing the blood. Were they not afraid because they had faith?

People get hurt, we get sick, we’re afraid, we sometimes cry. Doesn’t God understand that? If the writer of the FFOZ commentary is right, then every time a person of God feels fear, they are experiencing faithlessness. They are experiencing a total, catastrophic failure in their faith, a failure as a disciple of the Master, a failure as a child of God, and a failure as a human being.

Nevermind that we’re wired to have all of these emotions that we experience, including the emotion of fear. If you take your small, sick child to the doctor and you are told your baby has leukemia, is it a sin to be afraid that your child will die? If you lose your job and realize that you have no way to support your family and will most likely end up putting your wife and children on the street because you failed, is it a sin to be afraid?

It would be wonderful to not feel fear. It would be wonderful to approach every difficult situation with ultimate confidence and self-assuredness. It would be wonderful to constantly experience the love, grace, and strength of God in all circumstances, no matter how dire, knowing that even if you should be hurt, suffer the most hideous and painful diseases, and even face the loss of everyone you have ever loved, that it would be OK because God is with you.

And you never ever felt afraid.

It would be wonderful, but how many people have ever pulled it off? How many people have that much faith, trust, and confidence in themselves let alone God, to never feel afraid?

I don’t know the answer, but I suspect that the number is extremely small.

And he came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. And when he came to the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.” And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. –Luke 22:39-44 (ESV)

It’s impossible to really know what Jesus was feeling at that moment in time, but obviously he wasn’t facing his bloody, tortuous execution with calm, cool detachment. He accepted the cup set before him by the Father, but he still asked that it be taken away. He still was in agony, so much so, that “his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”

But the Bible says,

…fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. –Isaiah 41:10 (ESV)

PleadGod was addressing Israel through the prophet Isaiah. Did Israel feel no fear because God was with them? Did they feel no fear when faced with the barrier of the Reed Sea as the armies of Egypt descended upon them with murderous intent? Did they feel no fear as they faced giants and fortified cities when they first tried to cross over into Canaan? Did they feel no fear on the day when the Temple was destroyed, when Jerusalem was burned to the ground, when the Jewish people were sent into exile and scattered like loose change among the nations of the world for 2,000 years?

For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” –Romans 8:15 (ESV)

Yesterday, I wrote,

Maybe you’re thinking I’m being unreasonable. Maybe you’re thinking that I can’t be serious. Maybe you’re thinking that it would be too hard for you to help another person while facing a crisis of your own. And yet, God calls us to serve Him under all circumstances. Certainly we expect Him to serve us no matter what we’re going through and no matter what else is happening in the world.

You and I are only flesh and blood and bone. We’re weak. How can we stand up under the pressures of life and still be expected to help someone less fortunate than we are?

Some days the faith and trust is better and some days it’s worse. Some days I feel like I can take on whatever life and God dish out and some days I just want to hide in bed under the covers and have God make it all go away.

Someone recently commented on one of my blog posts, “I say, let the End come! Only He can fix this mess. We just keep messin’ it up!” I responded with encouragement. We can’t give up. We can’t just sit on our thumbs and do nothing and wait for Jesus to arrive on the bus from Heaven to repair our broken and dying world.

But discounting our weakness and criticizing the faithful for being faithless when we feel fear isn’t an answer I can accept. All flesh is grass (1 Peter 1:24). It is said that the spirit is willing but the body is weak (Matthew 26:41). I say that even the spirit is weak sometimes. For some people, it’s weak a lot of the time.

Some people say that fear is a liar and I suppose if a person allows fear to be the driving force in their life, then they will never really live. But many people have good reasons to feel afraid, either because they’re in a stressful or dangerous situation, or they’ve experienced enough of those situations that the future looks like a room full of tripwires and trapdoors.

But having said all that, the FFOZ commentary ends on this note:

It may not sound like one of the commandments of the Torah but it actually is a rule of life for the People of God. We are to live by faithful confidence in the strong hand of God. He who delivered Israel from Egypt and defeated the Amorites will also deliver the Canaanites into the hands of Israel. He who rescued our Master and Savior from the grave will also rescue us from every trouble and fear.

Yeshua says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows.” (Matthew 10:29-31)

According to Rabbi Freeman, we have a Godly soul that strives to go higher each day and “she will transform that animal to yearn with a divine yearning.”

We have a Godly soul and a body of shredded and bleeding flesh. When you’re young, you have a certain amount of courage, even to the point of foolishness, because in most cases, nothing really bad has happened to you yet. After three or four decades, you know better. If you stick your hand in a fire, you’ll be burned. The chest pain you are feeling might not be “just indigestion.” The “near miss” on the freeway because an aggressive driver just had to pull in front of you came within an inch of a collision at 65 miles per hour.

I can’t give up. I can’t be safe. I cannot hide. God does not promise that I won’t ever suffer or die in pain. The Book of Job scares the heck out of me.

All I know is if God decides to slowly feed me into a running wood chipper feet first, an inch at a time, my only guarantee is that He will be with me. One translation of Job 13:15 says, “Though He slay me, I have no hope.” I suppose it’s more encouraging to rely on standard translations like, “yet I will wait for Him” or “yet will I hope in Him.”

I just wish some religious people wouldn’t be so hard on the rest of us (or is it only me?). Faith isn’t easy. Hope often fails. The commentary says,

When we feel frightened or worried, we must remember who our Father in Heaven is, and that He cares for us and watches over us.

Tell that to the people of Haiti who are still struggling. Tell that to the Christians in Japan post-tsunami. Tell that to every soldier, Marine, and sailor who has ever gone to war and still struggles with PTSD years and even decades later.

And tell that to the victims of the Aurora, Colorado movie theater massacre.

Are they just going to recover, bounce back, and feel all hunky-dory again as if nothing ever happened? Are those people weak when they hear a car backfire and run for cover? Do they all suffer from chronic faithlessness just because they get scared?

Don’t you have compassion? Haven’t you ever been afraid?