Torah ominously warns, “After the wicked do not run.” 1
The Torah agonizes over the lure of the masses. Perhaps it is easy to latch on to what we see people covet and then place a great premium on possessing that for ourselves. In this simple paradigm, we are simply motivated to want to have what others have. If our civilization hungers for more possessions we may feel a competitive and driving hunger to get more so that we feel greater personal value. By having more we are worth more. Or, it may be inescapable that the language of a society holds nuances of values that are conveyed in the way we speak. That may be why the Torah exhorts us to be wary of how society moves and what it caves.
Either way it is only the strongest people who are able to maintain their principles when they are antithetical or different than everyone else. As Avot states, “In a place where people have lost their humanity strive to maintain your humanity.”
That is why the ancient rabbis understood Abraham being chosen as the elect one who would become the new Adam of civilization. When Adam and Havvah failed the test of Eden; as their offspring became murderers and victims; and Noah, while resolute in his cloistered good life, could not be counted on to begin a new lineage; Abraham succeeded. At the time of the great Tower of Babel Abraham saw the inherent flaw in humanity’s all-consuming interest to storm the gates of heaven. 2
At the time of the Tower of Babel civilization converged at the plains of Shinar to work together: “Come let us build a city…” declared Nimrod. And people flocked to the center site of construction. 3 Seeing the masses move in unison at the word of their master Nimrod, Abraham refused to have any part of the travesty. He knew it was wrong. Further, Abraham spoke out against injustice and for the universal God. That is why God chose him to be the progenitor of the people that would change history. God viewed Abraham’s strength of character as outstanding among the vast peoples of the earth.
The next time the Torah speaks of people banding together to form an alliance is in biblical town Shechem. As Joseph, the dreamer, approaches his brothers they use the key words to unite them in purpose, “Let us…” The delivery is compelling. In uniting for a single focused end, the group of brothers forms a small society in which each of them feels compelled to go along for the sake of the whole. The individual brothers willingly give up their self as they are swallowed by the larger mass. While Judah and Reuben have reservations about what they plan to do to Joseph neither one is strong or resolute enough to change the herd’s attitude. They are not Abraham.
What is the secret of Abraham? What does he have that the other lack? The Talmud labels it humility 4. What Abraham, David and Moses all bear in common is an impoverished heart which lets them know there is a Master of the endless universe and they therefore understand their place in the world. That humility, states Rabbi Yohanan, allowed them to make choices that were independent of the herd-mentality. These spiritual giants did not take direction from the surrounding society. They did not jettison their soulful self in the all-too-human quest for acceptance. They listened to their inner voice; the Voice which never ceases. 5
Much later in history the villainous Haman uses the same principle on the king. “There is a specific people….it is not in our interest to suffer them.” 6 The seemingly boundless power to influence the king and harness the subjects by Haman emanates from his inclusiveness. He galvanizes both the people and the king using the Babel principle: “Come let us…” The language is irresistible. If they work together, the people reason, all will be well. The inhabitants of the city of Shushan under his power are moved to work together in a lock-step that brings the country to the brink of genocide.
In the Torah, Pharaoh too understood the concept of rallying his people against the common enemy. This tale is most revealing of all the plots to subjugate a people and ultimately commit atrocities. A clue to the real motive behind Pharaoh’s edicts is a slip of tongue. The unparalleled human power says to his people, “Come let us deal wisely with him.” 7 So begins the years of deprivation, degradation and extermination Yet, Pharaoh’s words reveal his true intent.
Note that the Pharaoh ought to have said “Come let us deal wisely with them.” The mistake did not go unnoticed by the ancient ones. 8 The enemy was not the Jewish people. It would not have been enough for the ruler of Egypt to murder the Jews. He knew better than that. To utterly wipe out any vestige of those who would rebel against the boundaries of society Pharaoh would have to do more.
Just as the people of Babel knew that they must storm the gates of heaven to be truly powerful the Pharaoh also understood the idea that he would first need to destroy their God. Only then would the Jews disappear. That was his slip of tongue when he pronounced “Come let us deal wisely with him.” That was his goal as was every despot that sought to destroy his children throughout the long ages.
What the pivotal figures of Jewish history all understood- both the evil ones and the tzaddikim- is that the people are inextricably bound up with their God. The covenant that first bound Father Abraham to God and was re-covenanted time and again until the ultimate covenant, Sinai, is the animating force that feeds life into us. That relationship forever links our destiny and binds our souls to the One.
For as long this covenant remains we are called upon to listen to the word of God and not the word of man.
1 Exodus 22:3
2 Sanhedrin 109
3 Genesis 11:4, Hullin 89a
4 Hullin 89a
5 Berachot 3a
6 Esther 3:8
7 Exodus 1:10
8 Sotah 11a
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
The End is Nigh
Midrash indicates that during the time that Jacob thought Joseph was dead Jacob was like an empty husk; he was bereft of both his son and his connection to God. Woodenly walking through his days, Jacob’s devastation was complete. His son was gone. The Shechinah left him. This double-pain is connected.
When Jacob thought that Joseph was dead, he also believed that he had failed in his life’s mission: it had been revealed to him that if his sons died before him, he would descend to Gehinom 1. With Joseph apparently dead, Jacob spent his years awaiting his bitter fate in the "Next Universe." That is why when the message arrived that Joseph was alive, the Torah declares: The spirit of Jacob their father lived." 2 The Shechinah had returned to Father Jacob.
After twenty-two years, father and son reunite. The Torah describes this moment: "He (Joseph) saw him, he fell on his neck, and cried." 3
After twenty-two years Joseph could only weep. The tears of anger, regret and separation covered Joseph’s face and blurred his vision. What did Jacob do while Joseph cried? Rashi again provides an answer:
Jacob did not fall on the neck of Joseph. He did not kiss him. He did not weep. The Sages explain that Jacob was saying the Sh'ma. 4
Jacob's response to seeing his long-lost son was to say the Sh'ma? After not seeing his son for more than two decades -- remember that Jacob believed that Joseph was torn by wild beasts—Jacob had already come to terms with the death of his son and accepted his future consignment to Gehinom – Jacob uttered the Sh'ma! Why?
Why did Jacob say Shma Yisrael and not just cry like his son? Or why not simply give thanks to God? Even more, why did he add the words Shma Yisrael, “Listen Israel,” when Jacob could have just said, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. After all, who was Jacob speaking to (remember his new name was Israel)? Was he talking to himself?
No, Jacob is addressing a hopeful future. Until now, there was only a dismal end to the family line, a sudden end to his grandfather’s and father’s legacy. Having broken the line of transmission when Joseph died, Jacob expected only Gehinom for himself and a historical footnote for the nascent Jewish people.
That is why Jacob added the words "Listen Israel." He spoke to the future. Think of Jacob’s prayer as “Listen you yet-unborn-generations who shall be know by my name Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”
D’var Aher:
The holy Torah reads as passages that flow from one column to the next. With no spaces or beaks in the long narrative they form a seamless line connecting passage streams. Invariably, when one Torah portion ends and another begins there is a space, a break in the rush of words. This is not true in Vayichi. There is no break. It is called satum, "closed."
In an oddity with the usual division of parshiot in the Torah last week’s portion ends and this one begins with no discernable break. Why is this portion satum? Rashi shares that the death of Jacob caused a closing of the eyes and hearts of Israel. The troubles of the oppression began. The nation that gave them sanctuary would now become their ruthless oppressor. As a result, Jacob wanted to reveal the end of days to his children to give them hope. As a seer he knew that he could decipher what would happen to his descendents. Jacob gathered his children around his bedside and share with them the future. As he opened his mouth to speak the prophecy evaporated, the future was closed to him. 5
The death of Jacob represented the end of an era. The patriarchal age was drawing to a close. A new generation would begin with no visible leader to guide them. Jacob felt an almost desperate need to reveal to his children what waited for them. He wished to give them hope.
“And Jacob called his sons and said 'Gather, and I will tell you, what will happen to you in the end of days’ ..." 6
Jacob gathered his children around his bedside. Ailing, weak and frail from the visage of the Angel of Death nearing, Jacob wanted to inform them of the future. A momentary pause. A lapse in memory. Jacob became disoriented, confused. Instead, he blessed them. At the moment this revelation is to take place, Jacob's vision eludes him. This is how the Talmud describes the scene:
Jacob wished to reveal the ketz, the end of time, but the Shechinah left him. He became bewildered. He was prescient just a moment before. What happened to him? Jacob said, "Perhaps there is a flaw in my children like Abraham who fathered Ishmael, or father Isaac who bore Esau." 7
In his blank confusion and emptiness Jacob did not fear dementia he agonized that there was something lacking in his children. Perhaps, Jacob thought, it was far more insidious than that, he had failed his life’s mission.
The Talmud then connects Jacob's fear with the errant offspring of his father and grandfather. Why should Jacob have expected that his children would be greater than the children of Abraham or Isaac? If Abraham could father an Ishmael and Isaac could father an Esau, why would Jacob expect that his family would emerge whole? If this was true then Jacob was the last of his lineage.
Jacob's sons respond to their father’s deep and real fear. They responded to his dumbfounded silence by saying, "Sh'ma Israel Adonai Elohenu, Adonai Echad, Listen Israel, the Lord is Our God, the Lord is One." What the children affirmed before their father, the last dying Patriarch, was that they would be true to his moral direction. Father Jacob would die but his tradition would extend beyond his life.
With these words, the next generation assured their father that they truly accept the One God. When Jacob realizes that his children were one nation, he utters the words the entire nation will later use to respond to the Shechinah. "Baruch Shem Kevod Malchuto L'olam Va'ed, Blessed be the honorable name of His kingship forever and ever." 8 Jacob’s life was complete, whole.
The resonance of that event sent ripples through the many generations to follow. Jacob’s declaration was later said every Yom Kippur by the Jewish gathering on the Holy Day. At the Temple, when they heard the Divine Name annunciated by the Kohen Gadol, it not only brought the presence of the Shechinah but initiated the response from the people, "Baruch Shem Kevod Malchuto L'olam Va'ed, Blessed be the honorable name of His kingship forever and ever.
Genesis comes to an end. Time and destiny will eventually bring the Jews to Mount Sinai. The Sh'ma will remain the most powerful declaration of unity of people and connection to God.
Why was Jacob refused the privilege of seeing and sharing the vision of the "end of days"? Jacob was not an unworthy father or careless inheritor of the tradition handed to him. There was no flaw. Some books must remain closed.
D’var Aher:
The Rebbe of the Warsaw Ghetto had a different reading on Jacob’s struggle to find the ketz, the End of Days. According to him, ligalot et haketz (which means to reveal the end) could also mean it as “liglot.” Liglot means “to expel”.
Why did the Torah not leave the regular gap or space before this week’s portion? The Warsaw Rebbe indicated that Jacob wanted to expel the ketz, the “end.” Jacob wanted to end the human pains this physical existence. Jacob wanted to share with his children the secrets of the white spaces of the Torah. It could not be. The world, God decided, was not yet ready for the Redemption. The way became satum, closed, to Jacob.
Still, we wait.
1 Rashi on 37:35
2 Genesis 45:27
3 Genesis 46:29
4 Rashi on 46:29
5 Rashi 47:28 and Bereshit Rabba 96:1
6 Genesis 49:1-3
7 Pesahim 56a
8 Pesahim 56a
When Jacob thought that Joseph was dead, he also believed that he had failed in his life’s mission: it had been revealed to him that if his sons died before him, he would descend to Gehinom 1. With Joseph apparently dead, Jacob spent his years awaiting his bitter fate in the "Next Universe." That is why when the message arrived that Joseph was alive, the Torah declares: The spirit of Jacob their father lived." 2 The Shechinah had returned to Father Jacob.
After twenty-two years, father and son reunite. The Torah describes this moment: "He (Joseph) saw him, he fell on his neck, and cried." 3
After twenty-two years Joseph could only weep. The tears of anger, regret and separation covered Joseph’s face and blurred his vision. What did Jacob do while Joseph cried? Rashi again provides an answer:
Jacob did not fall on the neck of Joseph. He did not kiss him. He did not weep. The Sages explain that Jacob was saying the Sh'ma. 4
Jacob's response to seeing his long-lost son was to say the Sh'ma? After not seeing his son for more than two decades -- remember that Jacob believed that Joseph was torn by wild beasts—Jacob had already come to terms with the death of his son and accepted his future consignment to Gehinom – Jacob uttered the Sh'ma! Why?
Why did Jacob say Shma Yisrael and not just cry like his son? Or why not simply give thanks to God? Even more, why did he add the words Shma Yisrael, “Listen Israel,” when Jacob could have just said, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. After all, who was Jacob speaking to (remember his new name was Israel)? Was he talking to himself?
No, Jacob is addressing a hopeful future. Until now, there was only a dismal end to the family line, a sudden end to his grandfather’s and father’s legacy. Having broken the line of transmission when Joseph died, Jacob expected only Gehinom for himself and a historical footnote for the nascent Jewish people.
That is why Jacob added the words "Listen Israel." He spoke to the future. Think of Jacob’s prayer as “Listen you yet-unborn-generations who shall be know by my name Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”
D’var Aher:
The holy Torah reads as passages that flow from one column to the next. With no spaces or beaks in the long narrative they form a seamless line connecting passage streams. Invariably, when one Torah portion ends and another begins there is a space, a break in the rush of words. This is not true in Vayichi. There is no break. It is called satum, "closed."
In an oddity with the usual division of parshiot in the Torah last week’s portion ends and this one begins with no discernable break. Why is this portion satum? Rashi shares that the death of Jacob caused a closing of the eyes and hearts of Israel. The troubles of the oppression began. The nation that gave them sanctuary would now become their ruthless oppressor. As a result, Jacob wanted to reveal the end of days to his children to give them hope. As a seer he knew that he could decipher what would happen to his descendents. Jacob gathered his children around his bedside and share with them the future. As he opened his mouth to speak the prophecy evaporated, the future was closed to him. 5
The death of Jacob represented the end of an era. The patriarchal age was drawing to a close. A new generation would begin with no visible leader to guide them. Jacob felt an almost desperate need to reveal to his children what waited for them. He wished to give them hope.
“And Jacob called his sons and said 'Gather, and I will tell you, what will happen to you in the end of days’ ..." 6
Jacob gathered his children around his bedside. Ailing, weak and frail from the visage of the Angel of Death nearing, Jacob wanted to inform them of the future. A momentary pause. A lapse in memory. Jacob became disoriented, confused. Instead, he blessed them. At the moment this revelation is to take place, Jacob's vision eludes him. This is how the Talmud describes the scene:
Jacob wished to reveal the ketz, the end of time, but the Shechinah left him. He became bewildered. He was prescient just a moment before. What happened to him? Jacob said, "Perhaps there is a flaw in my children like Abraham who fathered Ishmael, or father Isaac who bore Esau." 7
In his blank confusion and emptiness Jacob did not fear dementia he agonized that there was something lacking in his children. Perhaps, Jacob thought, it was far more insidious than that, he had failed his life’s mission.
The Talmud then connects Jacob's fear with the errant offspring of his father and grandfather. Why should Jacob have expected that his children would be greater than the children of Abraham or Isaac? If Abraham could father an Ishmael and Isaac could father an Esau, why would Jacob expect that his family would emerge whole? If this was true then Jacob was the last of his lineage.
Jacob's sons respond to their father’s deep and real fear. They responded to his dumbfounded silence by saying, "Sh'ma Israel Adonai Elohenu, Adonai Echad, Listen Israel, the Lord is Our God, the Lord is One." What the children affirmed before their father, the last dying Patriarch, was that they would be true to his moral direction. Father Jacob would die but his tradition would extend beyond his life.
With these words, the next generation assured their father that they truly accept the One God. When Jacob realizes that his children were one nation, he utters the words the entire nation will later use to respond to the Shechinah. "Baruch Shem Kevod Malchuto L'olam Va'ed, Blessed be the honorable name of His kingship forever and ever." 8 Jacob’s life was complete, whole.
The resonance of that event sent ripples through the many generations to follow. Jacob’s declaration was later said every Yom Kippur by the Jewish gathering on the Holy Day. At the Temple, when they heard the Divine Name annunciated by the Kohen Gadol, it not only brought the presence of the Shechinah but initiated the response from the people, "Baruch Shem Kevod Malchuto L'olam Va'ed, Blessed be the honorable name of His kingship forever and ever.
Genesis comes to an end. Time and destiny will eventually bring the Jews to Mount Sinai. The Sh'ma will remain the most powerful declaration of unity of people and connection to God.
Why was Jacob refused the privilege of seeing and sharing the vision of the "end of days"? Jacob was not an unworthy father or careless inheritor of the tradition handed to him. There was no flaw. Some books must remain closed.
D’var Aher:
The Rebbe of the Warsaw Ghetto had a different reading on Jacob’s struggle to find the ketz, the End of Days. According to him, ligalot et haketz (which means to reveal the end) could also mean it as “liglot.” Liglot means “to expel”.
Why did the Torah not leave the regular gap or space before this week’s portion? The Warsaw Rebbe indicated that Jacob wanted to expel the ketz, the “end.” Jacob wanted to end the human pains this physical existence. Jacob wanted to share with his children the secrets of the white spaces of the Torah. It could not be. The world, God decided, was not yet ready for the Redemption. The way became satum, closed, to Jacob.
Still, we wait.
1 Rashi on 37:35
2 Genesis 45:27
3 Genesis 46:29
4 Rashi on 46:29
5 Rashi 47:28 and Bereshit Rabba 96:1
6 Genesis 49:1-3
7 Pesahim 56a
8 Pesahim 56a
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Choosing Pain
We chose pain. Can you imagine that? Choosing pain? Who would do such a thing? Yet, that is precisely what happened. We chose it.
If there is a single moral to the tale of Creation it is that Adam HaRishon - primordial man- elected to take the path of pain instead of spending his days in utter comfort. The Garden was perfect. There were no needs or wants. There was work to be done and the possibility of failure did not exist. There could be no failure. Likewise there was nothing to succeed at. All Adam HaRishon had to do was breathe.
In taking the forbidden fruit shame ensconced itself in the consciousness of the two beings. First naked and unabashed 1 Adam and Havvah felt their vulnerability begin to grow into an unrelenting self-conscious throb. Once comfortable in their own skin the couple now felt no comfort, only a constant gnawing of self-doubt and recrimination. Instead of roaming about the Garden, Adam and Havvah now crouched low in the bushes. Just moments before the universe stretched before them. In one moment he world had closed in on them. The skies felt like they were crushing down upon them.
Self-loathing and fear gripped Adam and Havvah. Dark suspicions colored the previously pristine Garden. They accused one another, contemptuously.
He said, "The woman that You gave me — she gave the fruit…" "The woman said, The serpent…"
Perfection was blemished. Shunned from Eden, Adam and Havvah now had to deal with previously unimagined pains that would assault their physical being and relentlessly pursue their consciousness. They crouched lower into the foliage, terrified of the growing inner darkness.
Why did they choose the path of pain?
On Hanukka we celebrate in many ways. Among the more opaque observances is the tradition of spinning the dreidle. A commentator, Rabbi Tzvi Elimelech of Dinov, said that the difference between Hanukka and Purim is best demonstrated by the dreidle and the gragger.
The dreidle is spun by taking hold of the top and twisting your wrist. The gragger is sounded by taking hold of the bottom and yanking it around. One is gripped from below; the other above. That reminds us of the difference between the two holidays. While Purim celebrates the ability of Esther to find her self and God and save the Jews, below; Hanukka recalls the intervention of God in coming to the aid of the Hasmonean warriors, above, with the miracle of the oil.
Redemption has different origins in the two holidays. There are times when we depend upon God and other times when we must depend upon ourselves. Yet, the connection between Purim and Hanukka is that redemption only comes about through struggle, pain. Both tales are pock-marked with rivalry, desperation and fear.
It would be nice if life was different; if our lives were not so riddled with wounds…and it was for a brief flicker of time in our past. The Garden of Eden. We return to our first question: why did they do it? Why did the sole inhabitants of Paradise forfeit perfection? Why could they not turn their backs from the Tree of Knowledge and forever walk in the Divine Radiance?
The question of pain is paramount in the parasha of the week as the family of Jacob descends into the fist of Egypt that would last for hundreds of years. At first it is a move that benefits everybody. Prosperity swiftly turns to anguish and despair as th children of Jacob become slaves to their present-day neighbors. Why such pain? Why must generation after generation endure agony?
In connection with the week’s Torah reading, a tale offers the following insight:
A farmer needed to yoke his cow. The cow had no desire to have the wooden plank placed around its neck and then tightened on her shoulders. She balked. Turning her neck this way and that the farmer could not yoke the animal. So what did the farmer do?
The farmer went to his shed and led her calf out in front of the mother. Pathetically bleating, the calf made the mother-cow lurch protectively forward. Because of her child, the cow allowed herself to become yoked.
It was foretold that Jacob would migrate to Egypt long ago. 2 The descent into Egypt and the subsequent affliction was part of a pact that God made with Father Abraham. There were countless ways to facilitate the yet-to-be-born descendent of Abraham leaving Canaan for Egypt but God decided to bring the calf first to induce its mother. The Holy One declared: He is My firstborn. Shall I then bring him down to Egypt in disgrace? I will draw his son before him, and so he will follow. Joseph was the lynchpin – the calf -- that forced Jacob to move. Jacob was compelled to go down to Egypt.
What does this Midrash mean? Does God want us to suffer? He ordained the slavery? It was part of God’s plan that Abraham’s descendents be slaves? Why?
It would seem that man and God are in collusion: they both believe that suffering is a necessary part of the human condition.
Rashi commented on the remarkable episode when Moses viewed the blazing bush on the mountaintop. 3 "Just as you see this bush burning while remaining intact so you carry My mission and will not be destroyed."
God did not promise that the process would be easy. There would be pain; the kind that invariably accompanies flame. God didn't say there would be no suffering. God only promised that we would not be alone and that we would survive.
In an early Talmudic passage there is the powerful statement, 4 A voice from heaven courses through the world three times each day that weeps for the pain and loss of God’s people.
If God weeps for our loss why then do we suffer?
The answer lies in the Garden of Eden. In the great experiment of human contentment, a dismal failure, a lesson was learned: humanity is happiest when learning and growing from its own mistakes. That is why Adam and Havvah chose the path of pain. It not only gave them a choice but the experience of hurt and failure allowed them to grow.
Perhaps that is also why God placed us in Egypt because that too, was part of our collective growth. Could it be that the act of suffering leads us to new spiritual ground?
Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai said: The Holy One, Blessed is He, gave three good gifts to the Jewish people, and all are acquired through suffering: Torah, the Land of Israel, and the World to Come. 5
Elsewhere, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai taught: Come and see how beloved is Israel to the Holy One, the Well of all blessing. When Israel went into exile, the Shechina went along into exile. They went to exile to Egypt, the Shechina went with them….They went to Babylon in exile and the Shechina went with them, as it is written, because of you I was sent to Babylon (Isaiah 43:14). When they will eventually be redeemed, the Shechina will be redeemed along with them, as it is written, Then the Lord your God will bring back your captivity and have mercy upon you (Deut. 30:3). God Himself returns along with Israel from its exiles. 6
Once life was perfect and that was the problem. Now we live a life that is rife with problems and it is perfect.
1 Genesis 2:25
2 Genesis15:13
3 Exodus 3:12
4 Berachot 3a
5 Berachot 5a
6 Megilah, 29a
If there is a single moral to the tale of Creation it is that Adam HaRishon - primordial man- elected to take the path of pain instead of spending his days in utter comfort. The Garden was perfect. There were no needs or wants. There was work to be done and the possibility of failure did not exist. There could be no failure. Likewise there was nothing to succeed at. All Adam HaRishon had to do was breathe.
In taking the forbidden fruit shame ensconced itself in the consciousness of the two beings. First naked and unabashed 1 Adam and Havvah felt their vulnerability begin to grow into an unrelenting self-conscious throb. Once comfortable in their own skin the couple now felt no comfort, only a constant gnawing of self-doubt and recrimination. Instead of roaming about the Garden, Adam and Havvah now crouched low in the bushes. Just moments before the universe stretched before them. In one moment he world had closed in on them. The skies felt like they were crushing down upon them.
Self-loathing and fear gripped Adam and Havvah. Dark suspicions colored the previously pristine Garden. They accused one another, contemptuously.
He said, "The woman that You gave me — she gave the fruit…" "The woman said, The serpent…"
Perfection was blemished. Shunned from Eden, Adam and Havvah now had to deal with previously unimagined pains that would assault their physical being and relentlessly pursue their consciousness. They crouched lower into the foliage, terrified of the growing inner darkness.
Why did they choose the path of pain?
On Hanukka we celebrate in many ways. Among the more opaque observances is the tradition of spinning the dreidle. A commentator, Rabbi Tzvi Elimelech of Dinov, said that the difference between Hanukka and Purim is best demonstrated by the dreidle and the gragger.
The dreidle is spun by taking hold of the top and twisting your wrist. The gragger is sounded by taking hold of the bottom and yanking it around. One is gripped from below; the other above. That reminds us of the difference between the two holidays. While Purim celebrates the ability of Esther to find her self and God and save the Jews, below; Hanukka recalls the intervention of God in coming to the aid of the Hasmonean warriors, above, with the miracle of the oil.
Redemption has different origins in the two holidays. There are times when we depend upon God and other times when we must depend upon ourselves. Yet, the connection between Purim and Hanukka is that redemption only comes about through struggle, pain. Both tales are pock-marked with rivalry, desperation and fear.
It would be nice if life was different; if our lives were not so riddled with wounds…and it was for a brief flicker of time in our past. The Garden of Eden. We return to our first question: why did they do it? Why did the sole inhabitants of Paradise forfeit perfection? Why could they not turn their backs from the Tree of Knowledge and forever walk in the Divine Radiance?
The question of pain is paramount in the parasha of the week as the family of Jacob descends into the fist of Egypt that would last for hundreds of years. At first it is a move that benefits everybody. Prosperity swiftly turns to anguish and despair as th children of Jacob become slaves to their present-day neighbors. Why such pain? Why must generation after generation endure agony?
In connection with the week’s Torah reading, a tale offers the following insight:
A farmer needed to yoke his cow. The cow had no desire to have the wooden plank placed around its neck and then tightened on her shoulders. She balked. Turning her neck this way and that the farmer could not yoke the animal. So what did the farmer do?
The farmer went to his shed and led her calf out in front of the mother. Pathetically bleating, the calf made the mother-cow lurch protectively forward. Because of her child, the cow allowed herself to become yoked.
It was foretold that Jacob would migrate to Egypt long ago. 2 The descent into Egypt and the subsequent affliction was part of a pact that God made with Father Abraham. There were countless ways to facilitate the yet-to-be-born descendent of Abraham leaving Canaan for Egypt but God decided to bring the calf first to induce its mother. The Holy One declared: He is My firstborn. Shall I then bring him down to Egypt in disgrace? I will draw his son before him, and so he will follow. Joseph was the lynchpin – the calf -- that forced Jacob to move. Jacob was compelled to go down to Egypt.
What does this Midrash mean? Does God want us to suffer? He ordained the slavery? It was part of God’s plan that Abraham’s descendents be slaves? Why?
It would seem that man and God are in collusion: they both believe that suffering is a necessary part of the human condition.
Rashi commented on the remarkable episode when Moses viewed the blazing bush on the mountaintop. 3 "Just as you see this bush burning while remaining intact so you carry My mission and will not be destroyed."
God did not promise that the process would be easy. There would be pain; the kind that invariably accompanies flame. God didn't say there would be no suffering. God only promised that we would not be alone and that we would survive.
In an early Talmudic passage there is the powerful statement, 4 A voice from heaven courses through the world three times each day that weeps for the pain and loss of God’s people.
If God weeps for our loss why then do we suffer?
The answer lies in the Garden of Eden. In the great experiment of human contentment, a dismal failure, a lesson was learned: humanity is happiest when learning and growing from its own mistakes. That is why Adam and Havvah chose the path of pain. It not only gave them a choice but the experience of hurt and failure allowed them to grow.
Perhaps that is also why God placed us in Egypt because that too, was part of our collective growth. Could it be that the act of suffering leads us to new spiritual ground?
Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai said: The Holy One, Blessed is He, gave three good gifts to the Jewish people, and all are acquired through suffering: Torah, the Land of Israel, and the World to Come. 5
Elsewhere, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai taught: Come and see how beloved is Israel to the Holy One, the Well of all blessing. When Israel went into exile, the Shechina went along into exile. They went to exile to Egypt, the Shechina went with them….They went to Babylon in exile and the Shechina went with them, as it is written, because of you I was sent to Babylon (Isaiah 43:14). When they will eventually be redeemed, the Shechina will be redeemed along with them, as it is written, Then the Lord your God will bring back your captivity and have mercy upon you (Deut. 30:3). God Himself returns along with Israel from its exiles. 6
Once life was perfect and that was the problem. Now we live a life that is rife with problems and it is perfect.
1 Genesis 2:25
2 Genesis15:13
3 Exodus 3:12
4 Berachot 3a
5 Berachot 5a
6 Megilah, 29a
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Joseph's Pit
Joseph is the dreamer.
At once, it is a gift and a curse. It is a gift because the dreams are prescient. Each one accurately predicts the future. As Joseph reveals his dreams it is clear that he prophesies. Who would not covet the ability to be privy to what will happen tomorrow? Imagine what you could do with that information!
It is a curse because Joseph is oblivious to the meaning and import of his dreams. He dreams but does not know what to do with them, how to interpret them or how they affect his family. Innocently, Joseph approaches his family and does not shrink from sharing the minute details of a prophesy that has them groveling before their younger sibling. His brothers realize the gravity of the dream; they recognize the gift and grow increasingly impatient with his naiveté. Jacob, the father, also understands Joseph’s gift. Even as he rails against the implication of Joseph’s night visions, he consciously ‘guards what Joseph has spoken.’ 1
As years pass, Joseph changes. Almost unnoticed, Joseph is transformed from dreamer to interpreter of dreams. Does Joseph even have dreams anymore? We do not know. Now Joseph reads meaning into other people’s dreams. No longer the dreamer, now Joseph is truly the “master of dreams” as he accurately interprets the Pharaoh’s nightmares as well as his fellow prisoners in the dungeons of Egypt. The dreaming theme is a thread that wends its way through the many layers of Joseph’s life.
Yet, there is another more idiosyncratic, recurrent theme in Joseph’s years, the pit.
First off, what was this pit? Where did it come from? Deep shafts in the earth generally do not appear by themselves. How did it come to be there? The pit was one of many wells dug by Jacob in his search for the desert elixir, water. The pit, or well, was dug in order to be used by his shepherds, drunk by his children in the field and used to irrigate the crops this well was an essential lifeline.
Seeing the “dreamer” approach them, the brothers contemplated murder. At the last moment an idea seized Reuben. Instead of fratricide there was a cleaner way to get rid of the nuisance. Reuben turned to his brothers as Joseph came toward them. “My brothers, instead of killing him, why not throw Joseph into the dry pit? [There was one attempt a digging a well that yielded no water.] Our fathers dug many wells. There is one here!” God, knowing what the brothers would plan, kept the water level from rising. Only after Joseph was sold to the passing merchants did the Holy One allow the waters to rise to their natural level. 2 Joseph was thrown into the empty hole.
The books of Psalms often inject the full spectrum of human emotion into biblical events. The reader of Psalms needs to be alert to clues that refer back to events of long before. In Psalm 30, a voice cries “What benefit is there if my blood is spilled? If I descend down into nothingness?” Earlier, in this same psalm the plaintive voice cries, “Lord You have lifted my self up from She’ol. You have preserved my life from its descent into the pit.”
The pitiful moan in Psalm 30 is resonant with Joseph’s terrified cry from the pit that seemed to close in on him. In fact the very language that Reuben uses in Genesis “What benefit is there…” 3 is the same Hebrew word used in Psalm 30. The only real difference is that Psalms identifies the pit with a place called She’ol.
She’ol is a living hell. It lies in the depths of despair. She’ol is a place of utter desolation and loneliness where the sole inhabitant is you. When Joseph was thrown into the pit he was truly cut off from everything. The darkness was complete and blank. It was She’ol, an inescapable and a seeming unending nightmare.
Question: Does the terrain of She’ol seem familiar? Have you ever been cast into this pit, deprived of light and love?
Now, the reading from Psalms brings more sense to us 4. What was this pit that Joseph was cast into? She’ol. The place where the brothers threw Joseph was into empty darkness. It was a pit of infinite dimensions where no light was allowed to penetrate the thick blanket of evil.
Stripping Joseph of his coat of Light and placing him in treacherous surroundings was the greatest challenge to Joseph of his life.
Another question: why does the usually terse Torah state, “The pit was empty. There was no water in it.” Of course there was no water in it. It was “empty!” What reason could there be for the Torah restating the obvious?
Rabbi Acha interpreted this seeming redundancy to mean that “no water” means there was no Torah. 5 In other words, not only was Joseph callously thrown into a dank pit but he was deprived of Light while there. Joseph miserably sat in the pit for two days with no “water” to nourish his soul.
Until now Joseph was content. All his needs were answered. He was immersed in Torah. He found listening to the word of God as easy as carrying on a conversation with his father. Unfiltered prophesies came to his open mind unchallenged and whole. He was educated and sheltered in the shadow of God. Through the prism of his eyes Joseph was bathed in truth.
Then came the fall of the curtain of darkness that stripped him of all hope.
More years pass by in the sweep of a few sentences. Once again, Joseph was tossed into a pit (bor). 6 In English it might be translated s ‘dungeon’ but the word in the original text is identical, bor. It is the pit once more.
According to the holy Zohar, 7 "And they took him, and cast him into a pit," Is an indication to Joseph of his descent into the darkness. As it continues, This refers to casting him into Egypt. There the key of faith does not dwell. Water is the key of faith. When it is written: "The pit was empty," it refers the absence of the key of faith.
That is why Rashi tells us that Joseph’s pit was filled with scorpions and snakes. The greatest danger to Joseph was in taking him from the water of his faith.
That is also the kabbalisitc meaning of “going down to Egypt.” It is a descent into the pit of She’ol.
Every person must undertake the same journey into despair and hopelessness. Every person will enter the pit.
In the Jewish tradition Joseph is a tzaddik, one of the most righteous. Yet, he was not always a tzaddik. He first had to master himself. Joseph’s transformation began at the moment he was thrust into the unyielding darkness of She’ol. After his long nights of weeping dread Joseph emerged from the darkness of the pit as a true tzaddik. The story of Joseph concludes. He refused to give in to the dark. Instead, he fought to keep his faith. Then the tzaddik was born.
Only when he is pulled from the pit do we glimpse the new Joseph, the Joseph who-has-become.
When Father Jacob died, Joseph and his brothers brought his body to be interred at the ancient burial site, Machpelah. On the way the group passed by the pit where Joseph was thrown so long ago. Joseph stopped and stared. He peered down into the emptiness and opened his mouth: Baruch Ata Sh’asah li nes b’makom hazeh. Blessed be the Lord God who performed a miracle for me here. 8
Now, in the final chapters of Genesis the transformation is complete: Joseph the dreamer is now the “master of dreams.” All life is watched by the Eye that does not sleep; it does not even blink. The dreams have been fulfilled and Joseph the tzaddik knows his place in the world. All things come from God. Our task is to listen and follow.
1 Genesis 37:11
2 Legends of the Jews, Louis Ginzberg
3 Genesis 3:26
4 See also Ps. 143:7. 49:9; 55:24; 103:4 and 88:5
5 Yalkut Shimoni
6 Genesis 41:14
7 Zohar, Vayishlach 130
8 Bereshit Rabba
At once, it is a gift and a curse. It is a gift because the dreams are prescient. Each one accurately predicts the future. As Joseph reveals his dreams it is clear that he prophesies. Who would not covet the ability to be privy to what will happen tomorrow? Imagine what you could do with that information!
It is a curse because Joseph is oblivious to the meaning and import of his dreams. He dreams but does not know what to do with them, how to interpret them or how they affect his family. Innocently, Joseph approaches his family and does not shrink from sharing the minute details of a prophesy that has them groveling before their younger sibling. His brothers realize the gravity of the dream; they recognize the gift and grow increasingly impatient with his naiveté. Jacob, the father, also understands Joseph’s gift. Even as he rails against the implication of Joseph’s night visions, he consciously ‘guards what Joseph has spoken.’ 1
As years pass, Joseph changes. Almost unnoticed, Joseph is transformed from dreamer to interpreter of dreams. Does Joseph even have dreams anymore? We do not know. Now Joseph reads meaning into other people’s dreams. No longer the dreamer, now Joseph is truly the “master of dreams” as he accurately interprets the Pharaoh’s nightmares as well as his fellow prisoners in the dungeons of Egypt. The dreaming theme is a thread that wends its way through the many layers of Joseph’s life.
Yet, there is another more idiosyncratic, recurrent theme in Joseph’s years, the pit.
First off, what was this pit? Where did it come from? Deep shafts in the earth generally do not appear by themselves. How did it come to be there? The pit was one of many wells dug by Jacob in his search for the desert elixir, water. The pit, or well, was dug in order to be used by his shepherds, drunk by his children in the field and used to irrigate the crops this well was an essential lifeline.
Seeing the “dreamer” approach them, the brothers contemplated murder. At the last moment an idea seized Reuben. Instead of fratricide there was a cleaner way to get rid of the nuisance. Reuben turned to his brothers as Joseph came toward them. “My brothers, instead of killing him, why not throw Joseph into the dry pit? [There was one attempt a digging a well that yielded no water.] Our fathers dug many wells. There is one here!” God, knowing what the brothers would plan, kept the water level from rising. Only after Joseph was sold to the passing merchants did the Holy One allow the waters to rise to their natural level. 2 Joseph was thrown into the empty hole.
The books of Psalms often inject the full spectrum of human emotion into biblical events. The reader of Psalms needs to be alert to clues that refer back to events of long before. In Psalm 30, a voice cries “What benefit is there if my blood is spilled? If I descend down into nothingness?” Earlier, in this same psalm the plaintive voice cries, “Lord You have lifted my self up from She’ol. You have preserved my life from its descent into the pit.”
The pitiful moan in Psalm 30 is resonant with Joseph’s terrified cry from the pit that seemed to close in on him. In fact the very language that Reuben uses in Genesis “What benefit is there…” 3 is the same Hebrew word used in Psalm 30. The only real difference is that Psalms identifies the pit with a place called She’ol.
She’ol is a living hell. It lies in the depths of despair. She’ol is a place of utter desolation and loneliness where the sole inhabitant is you. When Joseph was thrown into the pit he was truly cut off from everything. The darkness was complete and blank. It was She’ol, an inescapable and a seeming unending nightmare.
Question: Does the terrain of She’ol seem familiar? Have you ever been cast into this pit, deprived of light and love?
Now, the reading from Psalms brings more sense to us 4. What was this pit that Joseph was cast into? She’ol. The place where the brothers threw Joseph was into empty darkness. It was a pit of infinite dimensions where no light was allowed to penetrate the thick blanket of evil.
Stripping Joseph of his coat of Light and placing him in treacherous surroundings was the greatest challenge to Joseph of his life.
Another question: why does the usually terse Torah state, “The pit was empty. There was no water in it.” Of course there was no water in it. It was “empty!” What reason could there be for the Torah restating the obvious?
Rabbi Acha interpreted this seeming redundancy to mean that “no water” means there was no Torah. 5 In other words, not only was Joseph callously thrown into a dank pit but he was deprived of Light while there. Joseph miserably sat in the pit for two days with no “water” to nourish his soul.
Until now Joseph was content. All his needs were answered. He was immersed in Torah. He found listening to the word of God as easy as carrying on a conversation with his father. Unfiltered prophesies came to his open mind unchallenged and whole. He was educated and sheltered in the shadow of God. Through the prism of his eyes Joseph was bathed in truth.
Then came the fall of the curtain of darkness that stripped him of all hope.
More years pass by in the sweep of a few sentences. Once again, Joseph was tossed into a pit (bor). 6 In English it might be translated s ‘dungeon’ but the word in the original text is identical, bor. It is the pit once more.
According to the holy Zohar, 7 "And they took him, and cast him into a pit," Is an indication to Joseph of his descent into the darkness. As it continues, This refers to casting him into Egypt. There the key of faith does not dwell. Water is the key of faith. When it is written: "The pit was empty," it refers the absence of the key of faith.
That is why Rashi tells us that Joseph’s pit was filled with scorpions and snakes. The greatest danger to Joseph was in taking him from the water of his faith.
That is also the kabbalisitc meaning of “going down to Egypt.” It is a descent into the pit of She’ol.
Every person must undertake the same journey into despair and hopelessness. Every person will enter the pit.
In the Jewish tradition Joseph is a tzaddik, one of the most righteous. Yet, he was not always a tzaddik. He first had to master himself. Joseph’s transformation began at the moment he was thrust into the unyielding darkness of She’ol. After his long nights of weeping dread Joseph emerged from the darkness of the pit as a true tzaddik. The story of Joseph concludes. He refused to give in to the dark. Instead, he fought to keep his faith. Then the tzaddik was born.
Only when he is pulled from the pit do we glimpse the new Joseph, the Joseph who-has-become.
When Father Jacob died, Joseph and his brothers brought his body to be interred at the ancient burial site, Machpelah. On the way the group passed by the pit where Joseph was thrown so long ago. Joseph stopped and stared. He peered down into the emptiness and opened his mouth: Baruch Ata Sh’asah li nes b’makom hazeh. Blessed be the Lord God who performed a miracle for me here. 8
Now, in the final chapters of Genesis the transformation is complete: Joseph the dreamer is now the “master of dreams.” All life is watched by the Eye that does not sleep; it does not even blink. The dreams have been fulfilled and Joseph the tzaddik knows his place in the world. All things come from God. Our task is to listen and follow.
1 Genesis 37:11
2 Legends of the Jews, Louis Ginzberg
3 Genesis 3:26
4 See also Ps. 143:7. 49:9; 55:24; 103:4 and 88:5
5 Yalkut Shimoni
6 Genesis 41:14
7 Zohar, Vayishlach 130
8 Bereshit Rabba
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Shechem, Jacob’s Last Stand
Ramban, the great interpreter of Torah and mystic of the thirteenth century, noted, “What happens to the fathers is a portent for the offspring.”
Ramban meant that sometimes there is a convergence that takes place between generations that may never actually meet. For example, a grandfather may pass on a story which becomes a key to unravel the mission of his granddaughter many years later. Perhaps some act may appear meaningless in its own time but become a gift only revealed many years afterward. There are times, Ramban implied, when one generation places a seed in the ground that lies dormant until germinated by a later generation.
An example of this is intergenerational transfer that occurs in Genesis And Abram passed through the land, until the site of Shechem, until the plain of Moreh….1 Rashi comments that, “And Abram passed through the land,” means that Abram entered and continued his trek, “until the site of Shechem.” That is, Abram ventured into this unknown land of Canaan following the command of God and, for some inexplicable reason only stopped when he reached the town of Shechem. The Lord God told Abram to build an altar on land that would support such holiness. 2 Abram chose Shechem.
Why did the Patriarch choose this place to halt his journey and build the altar? What did Abram see? Did the Patriarch sense something palpable coming from this place? He could have stopped and built his altar in any place, even Jerusalem. Why then did Abram stop his family’s migration at Shechem? More: Abram knew that not only was this the place to build his altar but there was also something powerful he needed to deposit into the earth that would remain quiescent; it would wait until its appointed time to germinate and sprout much later there.
*
Many years later after the death of Moshe Rabbenu, Joshua led the people into the Land. There they engaged in a series of struggles before they were able to settle peacefully in the land. After Joshua‘s major victory at Ai he arrived in Shechem. There, Joshua took and arranged large pieces of stone and engraved on them words of the holy Torah. Joshua assembled all the elders and judges and stood next to the Ark that the Israelites carried since Mt Sinai as he proceeded to renew the holy covenant with God at Shechem. Why did Joshua choose this place to renew the covenant? He was following the same instructions given to Moses one generation before. This was the second time the covenant was enacted. 3 Both covenants were struck at Shechem.
Time passed. Many wars were fought under Joshua’s leadership. Among the more famous were the battles of Jericho where the walls tumbled and Gibeon where the sun halted its movement across the heavens. Joshua fought a massive war against an alliance of armies in Jerusalem and a northern war against a Canaanite despot, Jabin. After many years of conquest, setbacks and tireless leadership Joshua realized that death was coming close. With that knowledge Joshua gathered his people together for a final goodbye. His words were well-chosen, expressed and delivered. The chosen place for his farewell address? Shechem. 4 Joshua understood the innate sanctity of the place. His soul recognized the holiness of that city and so connected with his forefathers in his final act.
In earlier history, Shechem was set aside as a City of Refuge 5. A City of Refuge was a protected sanctuary ordained at the time of Moses to shield anyone who had committed, or was accused of a terrible crime. There the accused could flee and live free from fear of vengeful families. The refugees would live in safety until a court could determine whether they were guilty or innocent.
Going even further back, Shechem is mentioned in the Torah in Jacob’s lifetime. After an exile of twenty-two years Jacob returned to Canaan to resume his life after some horrible experiences. He wrestled an angel, confronted an estranged and angry brother and narrowly escaped his ruthless father-in-law. Now, in his middle-to-late years, Jacob settled into the Holy Land. Of all the possible location where did Jacob choose to live? Shechem.
Jacob purchased the property of Shechem for 100 kesitas from Hamor, the prince of the country 6. To mark his new home and dedicate the balance of his life to God, Jacob built an altar to honor the Holy One, blessed be He...just as did Abraham two generations before….just as Moses would hundreds of years later….and Joshua after him.
*
According to a tanna, one of the nameless and faceless ancient sages, Shechem is a place where bad things happen. 7
Jacob's arrival at Shechem was to be the beginning of a new and tranquil part of Jacob’s life. It was not. No sooner had Jacob secured his tent into the ground when his daughter, Dinah, was violated. The rapist was coincidently (Is there such a thing?) named for the city where he lived, Shechem. Jacob’s sons responded with violence of their own. They destroyed the city, killed all the males and stripped Shechem bare.
In the ashes of his home- the place that was supposed to have been his new -found haven - Jacob wept. Why was his life so difficult? Dismayed and deeply pained Jacob gathered all the gold, silver and valuables that were pillaged by his sons. Jacob then carried them out to the place where his grandfather, Abram, first built an altar to God upon his arrival in Canaan. Jacob dug a deep hole and buried the tainted loot. The tree under which Abraham had built his altar remained a silent witness to Jacob’s pain as he threw brown clods of earth over the spoils.
With shadows of the past casting a dank pall over Shechem, the Torah informs us, “Now, his [Joseph] brothers went to pasture their father's flock in Shechem.” 8 Joseph was sent out to find his brothers. Instead, Joseph the dreamer narrowly escaped death. This was the last time Joseph would ever see the town of Shechem. Joseph was dragged off was as a young man weighed down by chains and sold to passing merchants as a slave.
Years later, just before Jacob died he deeded to Joseph a single inheritance-- the city of Shechem. 9 In Shechem Joseph's brothers sold him into slavery and it was to Shechem that the bones of Joseph were brought from Egypt hundreds of years later for their final interment.
What do all the disparate events mean? How do we understand the meaning of Shechem? Is it holy? Profane?
Something about the physical space of Shechem acted as a magnet to Abram. It compelled Joshua to set up an altar in the same place where Moses erected one a generation before. A force pulled both leaders to make and confirm a covenant with God in Shechem. It was also the place of much pain for Jacob, Dinah, Jacob’s sons; Shechem was the place of Joseph’s betrayal and finally his sepulcher. Was the draw that Abram felt to Shechem diminished by the rape of Dinah? What made this place so compelling, life-changing and powerful?
In the time of the resurrection of the dead, many camps will arise in northern land of Israel because that is where the Messiah is going to be first revealed, since it is part of Joseph's territory. 10
That which is secret shall be revealed. In the holy prayer recited immediately after the Shma, a hint of the meaning of all the allusions to Shechem and the future of the Jewish people can be deciphered. The prayer begins, Baruch Shem K’vod Malchuto. Taking the first letter of each word we can see secreted in Hebrew B’Shechem, “in Shechem.”
Baruch Shem kevod malchuto ends with, l'olam va'ed, “for all time.” The Hebrew letters of these last two words spell lamed-vov, or thirty-six. Taken altogether the entire phrase indicates, "in Shechem, thirty-six."
*
The original first light that was cast at the beginning of time did not emanate from the sun. Genesis tell us that light preceded the great orb. This first light was a different sort of light; a spiritual illumination that had its source elsewhere. It was the supernal light of Creation which God secreted away for the righteous people of history yet-to-be. 11 This light shone for thirty-six hours before God hid it away. This light is redemption; when it is released, all evil will be banished. From this hidden light comes the tradition of the lamed-vov, the holy thirty-six.
Perhaps in a subtle way the Torah is trying to show the reader the incalculable worth of Shechem. People of great vision immediately saw the place for what it really was: a locale where the Ultimate Light would reveal itself. Even people not spiritually aware who visited Shechem felt the ripples that emanated from that spot. That is why so many eventful happenings occurred there. Even in our time, we watched as Joseph’s tomb was vandalized and decimated. None of the other resting places of the Patriarchs has been disturbed. Only Joseph’s tomb in Shechem. It still exerts a power.
Perhaps this is the place where God will finally begin the final redemption. Shechem is where the bondage began when Joseph was sold as a slave and it will become the beacon where the light of the lamed-vov will shine from in the future.
1 Genesis 12:6
2 Midrash Yalkut Shimoni
3 Deuteronomy 27
4 Joshua 24
5 Numbers 35
6 Genesis 33 18-19
7 Sanhedrin 102a
8 Genesis 37:12
9 Genesis 48:22
10 Zohar, Vayakhel 220a
11 Berachot 52b
Ramban meant that sometimes there is a convergence that takes place between generations that may never actually meet. For example, a grandfather may pass on a story which becomes a key to unravel the mission of his granddaughter many years later. Perhaps some act may appear meaningless in its own time but become a gift only revealed many years afterward. There are times, Ramban implied, when one generation places a seed in the ground that lies dormant until germinated by a later generation.
An example of this is intergenerational transfer that occurs in Genesis And Abram passed through the land, until the site of Shechem, until the plain of Moreh….1 Rashi comments that, “And Abram passed through the land,” means that Abram entered and continued his trek, “until the site of Shechem.” That is, Abram ventured into this unknown land of Canaan following the command of God and, for some inexplicable reason only stopped when he reached the town of Shechem. The Lord God told Abram to build an altar on land that would support such holiness. 2 Abram chose Shechem.
Why did the Patriarch choose this place to halt his journey and build the altar? What did Abram see? Did the Patriarch sense something palpable coming from this place? He could have stopped and built his altar in any place, even Jerusalem. Why then did Abram stop his family’s migration at Shechem? More: Abram knew that not only was this the place to build his altar but there was also something powerful he needed to deposit into the earth that would remain quiescent; it would wait until its appointed time to germinate and sprout much later there.
*
Many years later after the death of Moshe Rabbenu, Joshua led the people into the Land. There they engaged in a series of struggles before they were able to settle peacefully in the land. After Joshua‘s major victory at Ai he arrived in Shechem. There, Joshua took and arranged large pieces of stone and engraved on them words of the holy Torah. Joshua assembled all the elders and judges and stood next to the Ark that the Israelites carried since Mt Sinai as he proceeded to renew the holy covenant with God at Shechem. Why did Joshua choose this place to renew the covenant? He was following the same instructions given to Moses one generation before. This was the second time the covenant was enacted. 3 Both covenants were struck at Shechem.
Time passed. Many wars were fought under Joshua’s leadership. Among the more famous were the battles of Jericho where the walls tumbled and Gibeon where the sun halted its movement across the heavens. Joshua fought a massive war against an alliance of armies in Jerusalem and a northern war against a Canaanite despot, Jabin. After many years of conquest, setbacks and tireless leadership Joshua realized that death was coming close. With that knowledge Joshua gathered his people together for a final goodbye. His words were well-chosen, expressed and delivered. The chosen place for his farewell address? Shechem. 4 Joshua understood the innate sanctity of the place. His soul recognized the holiness of that city and so connected with his forefathers in his final act.
In earlier history, Shechem was set aside as a City of Refuge 5. A City of Refuge was a protected sanctuary ordained at the time of Moses to shield anyone who had committed, or was accused of a terrible crime. There the accused could flee and live free from fear of vengeful families. The refugees would live in safety until a court could determine whether they were guilty or innocent.
Going even further back, Shechem is mentioned in the Torah in Jacob’s lifetime. After an exile of twenty-two years Jacob returned to Canaan to resume his life after some horrible experiences. He wrestled an angel, confronted an estranged and angry brother and narrowly escaped his ruthless father-in-law. Now, in his middle-to-late years, Jacob settled into the Holy Land. Of all the possible location where did Jacob choose to live? Shechem.
Jacob purchased the property of Shechem for 100 kesitas from Hamor, the prince of the country 6. To mark his new home and dedicate the balance of his life to God, Jacob built an altar to honor the Holy One, blessed be He...just as did Abraham two generations before….just as Moses would hundreds of years later….and Joshua after him.
*
According to a tanna, one of the nameless and faceless ancient sages, Shechem is a place where bad things happen. 7
Jacob's arrival at Shechem was to be the beginning of a new and tranquil part of Jacob’s life. It was not. No sooner had Jacob secured his tent into the ground when his daughter, Dinah, was violated. The rapist was coincidently (Is there such a thing?) named for the city where he lived, Shechem. Jacob’s sons responded with violence of their own. They destroyed the city, killed all the males and stripped Shechem bare.
In the ashes of his home- the place that was supposed to have been his new -found haven - Jacob wept. Why was his life so difficult? Dismayed and deeply pained Jacob gathered all the gold, silver and valuables that were pillaged by his sons. Jacob then carried them out to the place where his grandfather, Abram, first built an altar to God upon his arrival in Canaan. Jacob dug a deep hole and buried the tainted loot. The tree under which Abraham had built his altar remained a silent witness to Jacob’s pain as he threw brown clods of earth over the spoils.
With shadows of the past casting a dank pall over Shechem, the Torah informs us, “Now, his [Joseph] brothers went to pasture their father's flock in Shechem.” 8 Joseph was sent out to find his brothers. Instead, Joseph the dreamer narrowly escaped death. This was the last time Joseph would ever see the town of Shechem. Joseph was dragged off was as a young man weighed down by chains and sold to passing merchants as a slave.
Years later, just before Jacob died he deeded to Joseph a single inheritance-- the city of Shechem. 9 In Shechem Joseph's brothers sold him into slavery and it was to Shechem that the bones of Joseph were brought from Egypt hundreds of years later for their final interment.
What do all the disparate events mean? How do we understand the meaning of Shechem? Is it holy? Profane?
Something about the physical space of Shechem acted as a magnet to Abram. It compelled Joshua to set up an altar in the same place where Moses erected one a generation before. A force pulled both leaders to make and confirm a covenant with God in Shechem. It was also the place of much pain for Jacob, Dinah, Jacob’s sons; Shechem was the place of Joseph’s betrayal and finally his sepulcher. Was the draw that Abram felt to Shechem diminished by the rape of Dinah? What made this place so compelling, life-changing and powerful?
In the time of the resurrection of the dead, many camps will arise in northern land of Israel because that is where the Messiah is going to be first revealed, since it is part of Joseph's territory. 10
That which is secret shall be revealed. In the holy prayer recited immediately after the Shma, a hint of the meaning of all the allusions to Shechem and the future of the Jewish people can be deciphered. The prayer begins, Baruch Shem K’vod Malchuto. Taking the first letter of each word we can see secreted in Hebrew B’Shechem, “in Shechem.”
Baruch Shem kevod malchuto ends with, l'olam va'ed, “for all time.” The Hebrew letters of these last two words spell lamed-vov, or thirty-six. Taken altogether the entire phrase indicates, "in Shechem, thirty-six."
*
The original first light that was cast at the beginning of time did not emanate from the sun. Genesis tell us that light preceded the great orb. This first light was a different sort of light; a spiritual illumination that had its source elsewhere. It was the supernal light of Creation which God secreted away for the righteous people of history yet-to-be. 11 This light shone for thirty-six hours before God hid it away. This light is redemption; when it is released, all evil will be banished. From this hidden light comes the tradition of the lamed-vov, the holy thirty-six.
Perhaps in a subtle way the Torah is trying to show the reader the incalculable worth of Shechem. People of great vision immediately saw the place for what it really was: a locale where the Ultimate Light would reveal itself. Even people not spiritually aware who visited Shechem felt the ripples that emanated from that spot. That is why so many eventful happenings occurred there. Even in our time, we watched as Joseph’s tomb was vandalized and decimated. None of the other resting places of the Patriarchs has been disturbed. Only Joseph’s tomb in Shechem. It still exerts a power.
Perhaps this is the place where God will finally begin the final redemption. Shechem is where the bondage began when Joseph was sold as a slave and it will become the beacon where the light of the lamed-vov will shine from in the future.
1 Genesis 12:6
2 Midrash Yalkut Shimoni
3 Deuteronomy 27
4 Joshua 24
5 Numbers 35
6 Genesis 33 18-19
7 Sanhedrin 102a
8 Genesis 37:12
9 Genesis 48:22
10 Zohar, Vayakhel 220a
11 Berachot 52b
Thursday, November 22, 2007
The House of Jacob Shall be a Fire
"The house of Jacob shall be a fire.” Prophet Ovadia 1:18
Angels seem to appear at each pivotal moment in the life of Jacob. When heaven feels like it is about to collide with the earth under Jacob’s feet, he is met by these celestial visitors.
Imagine. A mother advising her child to take a blessing using subterfuge. The young man obliges by donning fur to deceive his aged and blind father. It is a highly emotionally charged moment. Jacob is caught in a tight web where, if he fails, the rest of his life will be a misery. If Jacob succeeds, phantasms or demons will crowd and hound him until he dies. It is an impossible situation. Almost blindly, mechanically, Jacob walks toward the inevitable.
Imagine. A throaty howl of anguish rises from his father’s bedside when Esau understands that his brother has collected the birthright prize. Wild and uncontrolled, Jacob knew that the target of the howl was directed at him. Jacob was the cause of the unleashed anger. Echoing through the valleys, the screeches of Esau reverberate through the universe. The anguished cries fill his ears. Jacob hears, understands, and believes the death threat against him by his twin, Esau. Imagine an interminable exile.
As Jacob fled from his home to escape the mark of death, he dreamt of a ladder bridging heaven and earth. Jacob felt the hollows of his stomach expanding. At once, the vision filled him with awe and a vast understanding. The vision could not have come at a better time. Shorn of love and protection; deprived of his home; alone and empty; Jacob is reassured by the heavenly angels that his exile is part of a greater plan. He called the place Bayt El, the House of God.
Was there a deeper meaning to this vision of Jacob? Was it only to assuage the awful feelings of betrayal and loneliness? Or was there something more? The Midrash 1 informs us that the angels ascending and descending the heavenly ladder represents something greater than the portal to heaven. It revealed the course of history or, more accurately, the future. Throughout the coming epochs, powerful nations would rise to great heights. They would conquer nations and despoil entire continents. Ultimately, each nation would falter and then disappear into the vast abyss of time. Jacob and his progeny, however, were promised that they would live throughout all the tumultuous times and survive beyond each nation. Jacob received an assurance, a guarantee that this exile was purposeful.
Question: Do we get what we need? Does God provide for us? Looking over past years has there been a guiding hand gently charting our course through life? Has our past been a random series of events or a pathway that can be seen only with from a distance?
A day rolls into years as Jacob ages and negotiates a long series of painful deceptions. Life is not easy for Jacob. Finally, the tortured past catches up with the painful present.
‘It is time,’ Jacob decides. Determined to recover the fragments of his past life, Jacob makes the choice he had carefully avoided for too long: he will return and confront the reason for the years of exile. A decision has been reached: the years have not dulled the ache. Putting off the inevitable reckoning does nothing to deaden the pain. Jacob has already tried that for more than two decades. Still, the nightmares continued.
If Jacob is ever going to be whole, he will have to face his nemesis- and the other part of his soul - Esau. Even this decision is not simple. Once again, Jacob finds that he must run from the clutches of another who seeks to destroy him. Nothing is linear for the patriarch. Each choice he makes is fraught with painful choices and great hurdles. In the final analysis, it is only through God’s intervention that the life of Jacob is spared.
On the eve of meeting his brother, Jacob has a second encounter with angels. In a camp called Machanyim, they come to Jacob. Jacob converses with the angels and asks them to guide him towards his ultimate confrontation.
The angels assure Jacob that he is not alone. In fact, they imply that they have been with Jacob all through his journey. They have provided guidance when Laban came to accost Jacob with the flocks of sheep. The angels watched over Jacob as he worked for his father-in-law. They were even responsible for his financial success as well as his survival. The angels protected and guided Jacob through the last treacherous encounter with Laban. Repeatedly, the angels materialize to suggest to the patriarch that he has never been entirely alone. It is not incidental or trivial that the angels now appear to Jacob. He is full of anxiety and they reassure him that his actions and his life matter.
Question: Is it possible that you are never truly alone? Could it be that our lives are criss-crossed with the footprints of heavenly beings? With enough insight, would he be able to see them like Father Jacob?
Finally, for the last recorded time in the Bible, Jacob encounters an angel. This time it is significantly different, however. The angel does not come to Jacob with comfort or support. There are no promises of deliverance. He offers death.
Jacob wrestles the angel until dawn. When the sun rises, Jacob gains a blessing from the heavenly messenger. The blessing? A name change. Now Jacob has become Israel.
What was the apparition that attacked Jacob? Was it really an angel? Rashi reveals that it was the protecting angel of Esau. Stealing across the river in the blank starless night, Esau’s angel stealthily crept up on Jacob, hoping to destroy him. The Talmud records that the fight was so ferocious that the dust kicked up by their engagement covered the land and traveled up to heaven. 2
Jacob refused defeat despite a hip injury. He clung to both life and hope throughout the long night. Giving up may have cost Jacob his life. Or perhaps it would have meant that his life was a tragic mistake. Either choice he would make led to a dismal end. Jacob refused either option. He grasped the destructive angel, tenaciously clinging to him and demanding that he be blessed. It is a blessing like the one that he coveted so long ago at his father’s bedside.
Alternative ending: Jacob endured the darkest moment of his life. That unlit night Jacob found and revealed truest self. In a remote land, naked and vulnerable, Jacob encountered his yetser hara, the darkest part of himself. The angel was actually a part of Jacob that was unwanted, unacknowledged. It now became unavoidable: Jacob had to face segments of his past that were guilty of connivance and duplicity. If was ever going to become whole, Jacob had to confront his soul and scourge the wounds festering there.
Question: The question sits at the door of our psyche and will not go away. It gnaws at our soul and saps our strength. The incessant demands can be ignored for so long, and no longer. When we ultimately open the door who wins? He who is ready for the dark night of reckoning.
Jacob announces to the angel: "I will not let you go unless you bless me." 3 The angel responds to Jacob’s demand with a question, "What is your name?"
How can it be that the angel does not know Jacob’s name? Has he not been sent on a mission to find and destroy Jacob? It is not possible that the angel does not know who his intended victim is.
Kalonymos Kalman Shapira, the rabbi of the Warsaw Ghetto, offered a novel insight. Hurt by the fight, the angel prepares to leave the wounded Jacob.
"Is that it?” Jacob is incredulous. “Is that all? Is this the fate of the Jewish people? We are forever to fight and be hurt and reviled? Our destiny is to suffer? Our lot is to endure hardship? Our future is pockmarked with struggle? We merely survive and then you turn your back and walk away from us? I cannot let this happen! It must nor be!
“Give me more. Bless me! I demand a blessing that will be worthy of a people yet-to-come, my descendents. Bless the future nation that resides within me. I want you to bensch me!
Jacob was not only seeking the survival of his people and a respite from their enemies; he was demanding redemption. It is not enough to endure and emerge from suffering; there must be a kernel of hope that lies at the end; a Divine promise.
The angel asked Jacob’s name because Jacob means "holds onto the heel." Jacob entered the world fastening on to the heel of his twin brother, Esau. Throughout his life, Jacob continued to grasp on to the heels of others. The angel now reveals that this will no longer be true. That is why the heavenly emissary asks, "What is your name?"
For too long Jacob was defined by his name. In order to change the future the angel changes the present. That is why the angel says to Jacob, This is my blessing; your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, “for you have striven with the Divine and with man and you have overcome." 4
In having the chutzpah to demand a promise from the angel, Jacob was rewarded. The future was determined by his willingness to open his heart. The angel promises redemption. To this day, we bear the name of that promise.
Question:What do we ask of God when we pray? As our hearts open for the Almighty what spills out? To what level does our soul aspire? For Jacob, it was nothing less than the ultimate redemption. For you?
1. Midrash Tanchuma, Vayetze 2.
2. Hullin 91
3. Ibid., 32:27
4. Genesis 32:29
Angels seem to appear at each pivotal moment in the life of Jacob. When heaven feels like it is about to collide with the earth under Jacob’s feet, he is met by these celestial visitors.
Imagine. A mother advising her child to take a blessing using subterfuge. The young man obliges by donning fur to deceive his aged and blind father. It is a highly emotionally charged moment. Jacob is caught in a tight web where, if he fails, the rest of his life will be a misery. If Jacob succeeds, phantasms or demons will crowd and hound him until he dies. It is an impossible situation. Almost blindly, mechanically, Jacob walks toward the inevitable.
Imagine. A throaty howl of anguish rises from his father’s bedside when Esau understands that his brother has collected the birthright prize. Wild and uncontrolled, Jacob knew that the target of the howl was directed at him. Jacob was the cause of the unleashed anger. Echoing through the valleys, the screeches of Esau reverberate through the universe. The anguished cries fill his ears. Jacob hears, understands, and believes the death threat against him by his twin, Esau. Imagine an interminable exile.
As Jacob fled from his home to escape the mark of death, he dreamt of a ladder bridging heaven and earth. Jacob felt the hollows of his stomach expanding. At once, the vision filled him with awe and a vast understanding. The vision could not have come at a better time. Shorn of love and protection; deprived of his home; alone and empty; Jacob is reassured by the heavenly angels that his exile is part of a greater plan. He called the place Bayt El, the House of God.
Was there a deeper meaning to this vision of Jacob? Was it only to assuage the awful feelings of betrayal and loneliness? Or was there something more? The Midrash 1 informs us that the angels ascending and descending the heavenly ladder represents something greater than the portal to heaven. It revealed the course of history or, more accurately, the future. Throughout the coming epochs, powerful nations would rise to great heights. They would conquer nations and despoil entire continents. Ultimately, each nation would falter and then disappear into the vast abyss of time. Jacob and his progeny, however, were promised that they would live throughout all the tumultuous times and survive beyond each nation. Jacob received an assurance, a guarantee that this exile was purposeful.
Question: Do we get what we need? Does God provide for us? Looking over past years has there been a guiding hand gently charting our course through life? Has our past been a random series of events or a pathway that can be seen only with from a distance?
A day rolls into years as Jacob ages and negotiates a long series of painful deceptions. Life is not easy for Jacob. Finally, the tortured past catches up with the painful present.
‘It is time,’ Jacob decides. Determined to recover the fragments of his past life, Jacob makes the choice he had carefully avoided for too long: he will return and confront the reason for the years of exile. A decision has been reached: the years have not dulled the ache. Putting off the inevitable reckoning does nothing to deaden the pain. Jacob has already tried that for more than two decades. Still, the nightmares continued.
If Jacob is ever going to be whole, he will have to face his nemesis- and the other part of his soul - Esau. Even this decision is not simple. Once again, Jacob finds that he must run from the clutches of another who seeks to destroy him. Nothing is linear for the patriarch. Each choice he makes is fraught with painful choices and great hurdles. In the final analysis, it is only through God’s intervention that the life of Jacob is spared.
On the eve of meeting his brother, Jacob has a second encounter with angels. In a camp called Machanyim, they come to Jacob. Jacob converses with the angels and asks them to guide him towards his ultimate confrontation.
The angels assure Jacob that he is not alone. In fact, they imply that they have been with Jacob all through his journey. They have provided guidance when Laban came to accost Jacob with the flocks of sheep. The angels watched over Jacob as he worked for his father-in-law. They were even responsible for his financial success as well as his survival. The angels protected and guided Jacob through the last treacherous encounter with Laban. Repeatedly, the angels materialize to suggest to the patriarch that he has never been entirely alone. It is not incidental or trivial that the angels now appear to Jacob. He is full of anxiety and they reassure him that his actions and his life matter.
Question: Is it possible that you are never truly alone? Could it be that our lives are criss-crossed with the footprints of heavenly beings? With enough insight, would he be able to see them like Father Jacob?
Finally, for the last recorded time in the Bible, Jacob encounters an angel. This time it is significantly different, however. The angel does not come to Jacob with comfort or support. There are no promises of deliverance. He offers death.
Jacob wrestles the angel until dawn. When the sun rises, Jacob gains a blessing from the heavenly messenger. The blessing? A name change. Now Jacob has become Israel.
What was the apparition that attacked Jacob? Was it really an angel? Rashi reveals that it was the protecting angel of Esau. Stealing across the river in the blank starless night, Esau’s angel stealthily crept up on Jacob, hoping to destroy him. The Talmud records that the fight was so ferocious that the dust kicked up by their engagement covered the land and traveled up to heaven. 2
Jacob refused defeat despite a hip injury. He clung to both life and hope throughout the long night. Giving up may have cost Jacob his life. Or perhaps it would have meant that his life was a tragic mistake. Either choice he would make led to a dismal end. Jacob refused either option. He grasped the destructive angel, tenaciously clinging to him and demanding that he be blessed. It is a blessing like the one that he coveted so long ago at his father’s bedside.
Alternative ending: Jacob endured the darkest moment of his life. That unlit night Jacob found and revealed truest self. In a remote land, naked and vulnerable, Jacob encountered his yetser hara, the darkest part of himself. The angel was actually a part of Jacob that was unwanted, unacknowledged. It now became unavoidable: Jacob had to face segments of his past that were guilty of connivance and duplicity. If was ever going to become whole, Jacob had to confront his soul and scourge the wounds festering there.
Question: The question sits at the door of our psyche and will not go away. It gnaws at our soul and saps our strength. The incessant demands can be ignored for so long, and no longer. When we ultimately open the door who wins? He who is ready for the dark night of reckoning.
Jacob announces to the angel: "I will not let you go unless you bless me." 3 The angel responds to Jacob’s demand with a question, "What is your name?"
How can it be that the angel does not know Jacob’s name? Has he not been sent on a mission to find and destroy Jacob? It is not possible that the angel does not know who his intended victim is.
Kalonymos Kalman Shapira, the rabbi of the Warsaw Ghetto, offered a novel insight. Hurt by the fight, the angel prepares to leave the wounded Jacob.
"Is that it?” Jacob is incredulous. “Is that all? Is this the fate of the Jewish people? We are forever to fight and be hurt and reviled? Our destiny is to suffer? Our lot is to endure hardship? Our future is pockmarked with struggle? We merely survive and then you turn your back and walk away from us? I cannot let this happen! It must nor be!
“Give me more. Bless me! I demand a blessing that will be worthy of a people yet-to-come, my descendents. Bless the future nation that resides within me. I want you to bensch me!
Jacob was not only seeking the survival of his people and a respite from their enemies; he was demanding redemption. It is not enough to endure and emerge from suffering; there must be a kernel of hope that lies at the end; a Divine promise.
The angel asked Jacob’s name because Jacob means "holds onto the heel." Jacob entered the world fastening on to the heel of his twin brother, Esau. Throughout his life, Jacob continued to grasp on to the heels of others. The angel now reveals that this will no longer be true. That is why the heavenly emissary asks, "What is your name?"
For too long Jacob was defined by his name. In order to change the future the angel changes the present. That is why the angel says to Jacob, This is my blessing; your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, “for you have striven with the Divine and with man and you have overcome." 4
In having the chutzpah to demand a promise from the angel, Jacob was rewarded. The future was determined by his willingness to open his heart. The angel promises redemption. To this day, we bear the name of that promise.
Question:What do we ask of God when we pray? As our hearts open for the Almighty what spills out? To what level does our soul aspire? For Jacob, it was nothing less than the ultimate redemption. For you?
1. Midrash Tanchuma, Vayetze 2.
2. Hullin 91
3. Ibid., 32:27
4. Genesis 32:29
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
The Rock, Jacob and Me
Torah text:
Verses 10-11. Jacob left Beersheba and went to Haran. And he arrived at the Place [Makom].
How could he have arrived at the place, i.e. Haran? He was not even close to it. Haran was a long journey from Canaan. Jacob had just begun his journey! Much later, Jacob finally arrived there. So where was Jacob that the Torah insists that he had arrived? Where had he arrived if he was not yet there?
Jacob had set out for Haran, his mother's home of origin, but found that there was a far more important destination than the one that was on his itinerary. Something profoundly important was intended for Jacob on the road to Haran. A voice was calling. He stopped. What did Jacob see when he arrived at the appointed "place?" What did he hear that made him stop?
Makom is one of the seventy names of God. Jacob witnessed the pulsating strength of Makom (the Place) from afar. He saw the Ineffable. Jacob was drawn to the Holy of Holies. Hundreds of years later when the Lord revealed Himself to Moses, God said, the “Makom is with Me." (Exodus 33:21)
What if Jacob passed by the Makom of God without seeing it? What if Jacob was so preoccupied with his life-crisis that he missed the Presence of the One? We would certainly understand. Jacob had reason to be distracted: his brother threatened to kill him; his family life was in ruins; he had abandoned his aging parents.
What if Jacob was looking in the other direction and sullenly plodded all the way to Haran? He would have seen nothing but he eddies of dust rising from his footfalls on the trail.
What if the Messiah sits on the corner holding a cardboard sign saying: I am hungry and homeless? And we pass by? What if in our daily rush we derail the next budding scientist on their way to discovering a cure for Alzheimers by telling them they are worthless? What if we miss a child's outstretched hand? What if we miss the point of life?
Torah text:
Verse 11. And he arrived at the Place and lodged there because the sun had set.
Rabbi Joshua ben Levi said: Our forefathers instituted the daily cycle of three prayers. Abraham was the first to create the morning, Shacharit, prayer. As Genesis 19:27 explains, "Abraham got up early in the morning to the place where he had stood before God." Isaac instituted the Mincha, afternoon prayer. "And Isaac went out to meditate in the field toward evening." Gen. 24:63 Jacob initiated the evening prayer, as it says above, "And he arrived at the Place... because the sun had set." Midrash Rabbah
Torah text:
Verse 12. A ladder stood on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven…
The holy Zohar reveals the meaning of this passage: this is prayer. Deep contemplative prayer reveals itself as a cosmic roadway to God. Words spoken from the soul break through any physical or psychic barrier and unveil the ladder which we climb to meet the Holy One.
Torah text:
Verse 12. …and behold, angels of God were ascending and descending upon it.
Two Angels descended and two ascended at one time. What happened when they met in the middle? The breadth of a single Angel’s wings spread beyond the eyesight. When their paths intersected at the center of the great ladder, the span of the four Angels stretched outward to six thousand parsangs.
*
Why were some Angels going up and others coming down?
They were curious. The Angels wanted to peer at the sleeping figure of Jacob. As he lay resting on the stones of Mt Moriah, the Angels were intrigued. They gazed and then gaped at Jacob. In heaven they had seen his double! The Angels were anxious and vexed to see the heavenly correlate of Jacob on earth. They flowed down the ladder in pairs to stare at the Jacob below and then compare him the figure of Jacob above. Two Jacobs existed; one in heaven the other on earth. Hullin 91b
All things in the universe have their counterpart, their twin. God constructed a dividing line in the initial stages of the creation of the cosmos called the firmament. The firmament divides these twin likenesses. What happens below is reflected on high. That which happens above also happens below. This idea is crystallized by the Hebrew prayer, May He Who makes peace in the upper world cause peace to flow downward into our universe. Each side of the firmament is not just a mirror image of the other; actions in one sphere have an immediate impact in the other.
No action is inconsequential. No word uttered in meaningless. A single act could alter the cosmos. Our lives are critical to the universe. We count. We matter.
Torah text:
Verses 13-15. Behold, the Lord was standing over him, and He said, "I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father, and the God of Isaac; the land upon which you are lying to you I will give it and to your seed. And your seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and you shall spread your strength westward and eastward and northward and southward. Through you shall be blessed all the families of the earth and through your seed. Behold, I am with you, and I will guard you wherever you go, and I will restore you to this land, for I will not forsake you...
A long time ago in ancient Alexandria, Egypt, there lived a very old man. Rabbi Eleazar once met him as he was traveling through Alexandria nearly two thousand years ago. The old man peered at Rabbi Eleazar in the dusty marketplace. Rabbi Eleazar felt the gaze of the wizened one upon him. He turned. Shalom Alecha, “May you know peace,” Eleazar greeted him.
"Come," was the only word the old man uttered as he turned into a hovel. Time stopped on the street. All sounds ceased. Eleazar followed him into the darkened room.
The old man told him, "I have a great tradition, a secret,” he began. "You know the ancient tale: The great Lord God told Jacob that he would be blessed. He told Jacob that he would never be alone and that his children would inherit the riches of the land.”
The old man, turning to Rabbi Eleazar, asked, "And did Jacob question him? Did Jacob balk, eve for a moment? Did he think he was delusional? Did the patriarch ask for proof?
"No. This is the true greatness of the man Jacob. He was a man of faith."
Excerpted from Sanhedrin 111a
Torah text:
Verses 17-18 …He said, "How awesome is this place! …. Jacob arose early in the morning, and he took the stone that he had placed at his head, and he set it up as a monument, and he poured oil on top of it.
A dedicated rock? A monument to God on a mountain-top? Jacob consecrated a rock because he had a fantastic dream at that place?
The rabbis of the Talmud gave that rock a name. They called it Even Shteyia or "The Foundation Stone." The Even Shteyia was not just a rock; is was the navel of the world. Like all births, the world had a seed, a starting point.
At the start of Creation, God placed this rock in the midst of the boundless swirling waters. From this one rock grew tentacles, great arms of earth that moved and spread across the globe until whole continents rose out of the depths.
The Even Shetyia remains the center of the world. It is the foundation which began and continues to hold up our universe. Just as all eyes focus on Israel, holiness emanates from Jerusalem from the midst of the land. In Jerusalem, we focus our gaze on Mount Moriah where the Holy Temple once stood. When at the Temple, the soul turns towards the Even Shetiyia.
From this stone pulsed the Power that Jacob saw as he lay his head down. Where Jacob placed his head keyed into the sustaining power of the universe.
The soul knows and years to be connected with the One. While our physical senses are often distracted, our soul always searches for and recognizes the truth. The breath of life continues to search fro its source. The greatest, most sublime joy happens when we bend of physical will to our purest soulful voice. When we listen to our soul we are most alive.
Verses 10-11. Jacob left Beersheba and went to Haran. And he arrived at the Place [Makom].
How could he have arrived at the place, i.e. Haran? He was not even close to it. Haran was a long journey from Canaan. Jacob had just begun his journey! Much later, Jacob finally arrived there. So where was Jacob that the Torah insists that he had arrived? Where had he arrived if he was not yet there?
Jacob had set out for Haran, his mother's home of origin, but found that there was a far more important destination than the one that was on his itinerary. Something profoundly important was intended for Jacob on the road to Haran. A voice was calling. He stopped. What did Jacob see when he arrived at the appointed "place?" What did he hear that made him stop?
Makom is one of the seventy names of God. Jacob witnessed the pulsating strength of Makom (the Place) from afar. He saw the Ineffable. Jacob was drawn to the Holy of Holies. Hundreds of years later when the Lord revealed Himself to Moses, God said, the “Makom is with Me." (Exodus 33:21)
What if Jacob passed by the Makom of God without seeing it? What if Jacob was so preoccupied with his life-crisis that he missed the Presence of the One? We would certainly understand. Jacob had reason to be distracted: his brother threatened to kill him; his family life was in ruins; he had abandoned his aging parents.
What if Jacob was looking in the other direction and sullenly plodded all the way to Haran? He would have seen nothing but he eddies of dust rising from his footfalls on the trail.
What if the Messiah sits on the corner holding a cardboard sign saying: I am hungry and homeless? And we pass by? What if in our daily rush we derail the next budding scientist on their way to discovering a cure for Alzheimers by telling them they are worthless? What if we miss a child's outstretched hand? What if we miss the point of life?
Torah text:
Verse 11. And he arrived at the Place and lodged there because the sun had set.
Rabbi Joshua ben Levi said: Our forefathers instituted the daily cycle of three prayers. Abraham was the first to create the morning, Shacharit, prayer. As Genesis 19:27 explains, "Abraham got up early in the morning to the place where he had stood before God." Isaac instituted the Mincha, afternoon prayer. "And Isaac went out to meditate in the field toward evening." Gen. 24:63 Jacob initiated the evening prayer, as it says above, "And he arrived at the Place... because the sun had set." Midrash Rabbah
Torah text:
Verse 12. A ladder stood on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven…
The holy Zohar reveals the meaning of this passage: this is prayer. Deep contemplative prayer reveals itself as a cosmic roadway to God. Words spoken from the soul break through any physical or psychic barrier and unveil the ladder which we climb to meet the Holy One.
Torah text:
Verse 12. …and behold, angels of God were ascending and descending upon it.
Two Angels descended and two ascended at one time. What happened when they met in the middle? The breadth of a single Angel’s wings spread beyond the eyesight. When their paths intersected at the center of the great ladder, the span of the four Angels stretched outward to six thousand parsangs.
*
Why were some Angels going up and others coming down?
They were curious. The Angels wanted to peer at the sleeping figure of Jacob. As he lay resting on the stones of Mt Moriah, the Angels were intrigued. They gazed and then gaped at Jacob. In heaven they had seen his double! The Angels were anxious and vexed to see the heavenly correlate of Jacob on earth. They flowed down the ladder in pairs to stare at the Jacob below and then compare him the figure of Jacob above. Two Jacobs existed; one in heaven the other on earth. Hullin 91b
All things in the universe have their counterpart, their twin. God constructed a dividing line in the initial stages of the creation of the cosmos called the firmament. The firmament divides these twin likenesses. What happens below is reflected on high. That which happens above also happens below. This idea is crystallized by the Hebrew prayer, May He Who makes peace in the upper world cause peace to flow downward into our universe. Each side of the firmament is not just a mirror image of the other; actions in one sphere have an immediate impact in the other.
No action is inconsequential. No word uttered in meaningless. A single act could alter the cosmos. Our lives are critical to the universe. We count. We matter.
Torah text:
Verses 13-15. Behold, the Lord was standing over him, and He said, "I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father, and the God of Isaac; the land upon which you are lying to you I will give it and to your seed. And your seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and you shall spread your strength westward and eastward and northward and southward. Through you shall be blessed all the families of the earth and through your seed. Behold, I am with you, and I will guard you wherever you go, and I will restore you to this land, for I will not forsake you...
A long time ago in ancient Alexandria, Egypt, there lived a very old man. Rabbi Eleazar once met him as he was traveling through Alexandria nearly two thousand years ago. The old man peered at Rabbi Eleazar in the dusty marketplace. Rabbi Eleazar felt the gaze of the wizened one upon him. He turned. Shalom Alecha, “May you know peace,” Eleazar greeted him.
"Come," was the only word the old man uttered as he turned into a hovel. Time stopped on the street. All sounds ceased. Eleazar followed him into the darkened room.
The old man told him, "I have a great tradition, a secret,” he began. "You know the ancient tale: The great Lord God told Jacob that he would be blessed. He told Jacob that he would never be alone and that his children would inherit the riches of the land.”
The old man, turning to Rabbi Eleazar, asked, "And did Jacob question him? Did Jacob balk, eve for a moment? Did he think he was delusional? Did the patriarch ask for proof?
"No. This is the true greatness of the man Jacob. He was a man of faith."
Excerpted from Sanhedrin 111a
Torah text:
Verses 17-18 …He said, "How awesome is this place! …. Jacob arose early in the morning, and he took the stone that he had placed at his head, and he set it up as a monument, and he poured oil on top of it.
A dedicated rock? A monument to God on a mountain-top? Jacob consecrated a rock because he had a fantastic dream at that place?
The rabbis of the Talmud gave that rock a name. They called it Even Shteyia or "The Foundation Stone." The Even Shteyia was not just a rock; is was the navel of the world. Like all births, the world had a seed, a starting point.
At the start of Creation, God placed this rock in the midst of the boundless swirling waters. From this one rock grew tentacles, great arms of earth that moved and spread across the globe until whole continents rose out of the depths.
The Even Shetyia remains the center of the world. It is the foundation which began and continues to hold up our universe. Just as all eyes focus on Israel, holiness emanates from Jerusalem from the midst of the land. In Jerusalem, we focus our gaze on Mount Moriah where the Holy Temple once stood. When at the Temple, the soul turns towards the Even Shetiyia.
From this stone pulsed the Power that Jacob saw as he lay his head down. Where Jacob placed his head keyed into the sustaining power of the universe.
The soul knows and years to be connected with the One. While our physical senses are often distracted, our soul always searches for and recognizes the truth. The breath of life continues to search fro its source. The greatest, most sublime joy happens when we bend of physical will to our purest soulful voice. When we listen to our soul we are most alive.
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