Category: 2. Sh’mot/Exodus

Rabbi's Corner

Just A Hunka, Hunka Burning Love

 

Parshiot Vayakhel/Pikudei

“Lord Almighty I feel my temp’rature rising,

Higher and higher it’s burning through to my soul”

-The Tupelo Rebbe

Our sidra  opens with yet another mention of the mitzvah of Shabbat. It seems that Shabbat is a running sub theme of the entire tabernacle (mishkan) section, woven throughout the text like a design in a flowing tapestry. It is no surprise that the entire methodology of tabernacle building is what we use to codify the specifics of shabbat observation.

The Talmud (Shabbat 49B) teaches that the specific activities involved in building the mishkan are the source of the 39 catagories of creative activity (melachot) that are to be curtailed on the shabbat.

Curiously, the text of our parasha does not present us with a list of these activities, only (after threatening blatant scofflaws) a directive to refrain from building a fire on shabbat. (Ex.35:3)

Why was fire singled out from among the 39 melachot? Perhaps we can learn something from the nature of fire itself.

Rabbi Ovadia Sforno (1470-1550) points out that fire can be destructive or constructive. Fire was a necessary component of processing mishkan materials, and it was this beneficial use of fire that the Torah prohibits on Shabbat. It was the intention that turned a potentially destructive act into a creative endeavor.

This concept is discussed at length again in tractate Shabbat (105B), as well as many other places in the Talmud. Melachot done for the wrong reason, or without intention are not considered significant.

I think we can play with this idea a bit, and apply this approach to all our activities, and the observance of shabbat itself.

Through sincere intention our activities can turn from a trivial exercise into a significant statement. Mindless ritual, especially of the type that would seem to technically avoid shabbat desecration actually is destructive-it removes us from the “zone” that is shabbat itself.

We have a choice: we can look at the cessation of creative labor as a prison, and a parallel reality emerges. Our activities and rituals can become spiritually destructive, and create a harmful fire inside that prevents us from experiencing our taste of heaven on earth.

Alternatively, we can choose to perform or refrain from the same activities, with an intention of immersing ourselves in shabbat and basking in a glimpse of revealed light. This can actually have the constructive benefit of giving our bodies pleasure, our minds stimulation, and letting our spirits soar.

That same burning fire, while capable of reducing a house to ashes, can heat a home, and warm our hearts.

“You light my morning sky with burning love

With burning love (hunka hunka burning love Ha)”

ibid.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Greg

For more info on the Tupelo Rebbe:

www.amazon.com/Schmelvis-Search-Elvis-Presleys-Jewish/dp/155022462X

by on March 12, 2012
filed in 10. Vayakhel

Details, Details….

Parashat Ki Tisa

As an artist I am quite used to being in conflict with procedural issues. I don’t mind trying to follow directions, but not without first looking at the directive from all possible angles, and trying to find the best way to ensure that the results reflect my personal spin on things. Of course this approach is essential in music, or writing, but what about my practice of traditional Judaism? Is my creative nature forced to be subservient to the details  of living a life informed by Jewish law?

In this weeks parasha we are introduced to one of the most inspiring  figures in the Torah, the master artist Bezalel.  “ And I have filled him with the spirit of
G-d, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and skill” (Ex 31:3).

Why the need to add a new face to the team? Certainly between Moshe, Aaron, the elders, and tribal leaders, there was quite a brain trust. Couldn’t they grasp the details of the building of the mishkan on their own?

It seems that the torah realizes that there needs to be someone who can think out of the box, with great aesthetic instincts,to reflect artistically on the process of fulfilling the divine imperative.  Even King Solomon, the wisest of all human beings, needed to send for Hiram “….and he was filled with wisdom and understanding and skill….” (1 Kings 7:14). [Note the exact same language was used to describe Bezalel, except for Bezalel’s being “...filled with the spirit of  G-d....” That was reserved only for Bezalel, who was selected by G-d directly.]

We all have a part of Bezalel in each of us, and even in quite limited ways our truly creative urges never fail to satisfy. What better way to honor our Creator than our own creativity?

Directly after the appointment of  Bezalel and his assistant Oholiav we get a set of conditional terms, concerning creativity and the sanctity of Shabbat. Creative endeavors are to be subservient to the Shabbat, our efforts to act G-d like during the week are contrasted with our efforts to refrain from creating on Shabbat. The Torah does not use the word avodah, meaning menial work, but rather melacha, meaning creative, transformative work. I can use my creative energy, the primal force that causes me to exert my individuality in the world, to help me avoid creating. This is the time to delve deep into the details of Jewish law, and the reward is the added appreciation of the gift of creativity itself.

If we choose to disregard this paradigm then the alternative is an Aigel Masaicha, a Golden Calf- a commercial replacement for spiritual creativity. This is a very powerful and seductive force, but not our true essence. In our narrative the results are catastrophic, causing the divine spirit to retreat. After some impassioned petitioning by Moshe, the people are given another chance,  an opportunity to grow from their flirtation with pagan practice, with shallow creativity.

G-d instructs the Israelites not to make any more “elohay masaicha”, molten gods. It is interesting that in modern Hebrew the word masaicha can also mean “mask”. Do not practice an anonymous, inauthentic creativity, take your mask off if you want to truly have a spiritually fulfilling life.

The very next verse is the commandment to observe the festival of Pesach, to eat only leaven free matza for seven days. Leaven is an enhancement to the natural qualities of our basic food, a creative addition . By abstaining from leaven during Pesach we are removing our masks, reexamining our roles not as creators, but as create-ees.

The laws of Pesach are very detailed, much more complicated than Shabbat. Here the Torah is giving us a week-long opportunity to realign ourselves, to hone our sensitivity to the power of creation, and truly delight in having been created ourselves. This awareness is holiness itself, an immersion in a  mikvah of time. We can look forward to the transitional moment of each week, the “havdalah”, or separation we make at the end of Shabbat and holidays, knowing we can forge ahead as creative beings, with G-d’s blessing upon us.
Details to follow…

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Greg

by on March 8, 2012
filed in 09. Ki Tissa

How Do You Get To Carnegie Hall?

Parashat Tetzaveh

I missed the Oscars this year, but did manage to catch the finale of the Grammys a few weeks before, and took the opportunity to reflect on pop culture’s obsession with ranking artistic and intellectual achievement. While I am thrilled that Tony Bennett won his 16th and 17th Grammy awards at the age of 85 (maybe there is still hope for me?), many of the “best” will simply fade into the rubble of water cooler debate topics.

Inevitably the conversation turns to the historical impact of lack thereof or the recently feted:

Who was the greatest musician of all time?
What is the greatest recording of all time?
Next…
Who was the greatest athlete?
And then (as this is an election year)..
Who was the greatest president?
Who was the greatest thinker?
What was the most important event in history?

Any definitive collection of superlatives is certainly disputable, yet we delight in compiling lists, and making statements that reflect our confidence in ourselves. It is only natural that sooner or later someone would want to proclaim a certain verse the “most important verse in the Torah”!

In his introduction to the classic medieval work, “Ein Yaakov”, Rabbi Yaakov Ibn Haviv quotes a midrash that summarizes a discussion of that very topic. What is the most important verse in the entire Torah? The midrash quotes three opinions.

According to the sage Ben Zoma, it is “Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Ekhad – Hear O Israel, the Lord is our G-d, the Lord is One..” (Deut. 6:4)

Ben Nannas (and also Rabbi Akiva) said, “v’Ahavta l’Reakha k’Mokha.- You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18)

Ben Pazai said: “Et ha-keves ha-echad ta’aseh
va-BOKER ve-et ha-keves ha-sheini
ta’aseh bein ha-ARBAYIM….And one lamb you shall offer in the morning, and the other in the afternoon” (Ex. 29:39)

This last entry, from this week’s parasha, is a bit puzzling…nevertheless, the midrash concludes that Ben Pazai is correct, that this is in fact the most important verse in the Torah.

How can the commandment to bring the Korban Tamid, the daily offering, even make it to the top ten?

And isn’t this verse, with its reference to sacrificial offerings to be placed on the altar, out of place here in our parasha, with its description of the contents of the mishkan, the holy tabernacle?

The Maharal of Prague (Rabbi Yehuda Loew- remember the Golem?) writing about our discussion, says that consistency is the essence of relationship with our creator.

A peek into this week’s reading reinforces that view.

The me’ulim (the one time inaugural offerings) described in our parasha are no guarantee that our special relationship can last past the initial infatuation stage. Judaism-whether the biblical version described here, or the rabbinic version we have inherited to sustain us in exile- requires practice. A lot of practice…

As a musician, I can relate. It’s no surprise that we use the same term for both disciplines. I practice my saxophone, I practice Judaism, I have a spiritual practice…As the saying goes, art is one percent inspiration, and ninety nine percent perspiration.

In addition to the obvious benefits of refinement and technique, the commitment demonstrates a deeper connection. We were taken out of Egypt not to founder in a listless freedom, but rather to accept the loving servitude of our creator. This relationship can only mature through constant attention. And, there is an art to it.

Actually, the word “tamid” meaning constant, is used in our parasha to describe two other components of the divine service of the mishkan.

The menorah, the first commandment given in our parasha, is to burn continually. We connect to G-d by continually referencing G-d’s first creation described in the Torah- “Let There be light….”, the first of the “ten utterances” that brought the world into being.

Likewise the incense (ketoret) described at the end of the parasha is a ketoret tamid- a constant fragrance. The ketoret, which also means “binding”, is a blend of eleven ingredients, representing a transcendence of the ten stages of creating the physical world. That transcendence is our attachment to G-d.

When the minute details of our lives get in the way we may not always grasp the feeling that we are reaching our potential.

We need to reflect on the fact that the continuity of effort WILL sustain us between the fleeting moments of inspiration.

With experience, those moments will be closer and closer together. It just takes a bit of practice…

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Greg

by on February 28, 2012
filed in 08. Tetzaveh, 2. Sh'mot/Exodus

Home Stand

Parashat Terumah

I’ve been a baseball fan off and on for most of my life. When my sons started taking more than a passing interest in the game, I began going to Yankee Stadium several times a year for some good father/son bonding, a relaxing night out, and occasionally, an exciting game. I’ve noticed that after the first few innings many people choose to spend more time at the concession stand than in their seats; the intense, drawn out middle innings require much concentration. Everyone enjoys the fireworks of big home runs, daring base running and acrobatic fielding but the intensity of a pitchers dual and a manager driven plan to manufacture runs is often lost on the casual fan. A well played game is a work of art, accessible to those who delve deeper.

Likewise, the interest in the weekly Torah reading, while strong with such diversions as plagues, sea-splitting, open miracles and ironic plot twists, tends to wane in the middle innings as well. The highly detailed instructions on the building and furnishing of the tabernacle (mishkan), and the specifics of the sacrificial rites often leave the casual fan heading for a 7th aliyah stretch.

But, as in baseball, once you are hip to the subtleties, the game unfolds in a calm beauty, and in each corner and behind every shadow lays a door to the inside- an illuminated corridor revealing the majesty of creative energy.

In this hallway things are often not as they first appear. Is this a foreshadowing, a flashback, or are we progressing in an orderly, chronologically accurate fashion?

A careful reading of the text raises many, many questions, and identifying and grappling with these questions brings us one level closer to the playing field.

For example,

Was the commandment to build the mishkan given before or after the tragic events of the Golden Calf? Why is the verse telling us to build it followed immediately by instructions to instead build the Holy Ark (which gets more playing time than any other details of the tabernacle), and why do we need to know all the mishkan’s micro details about intricate measurements, architecture and textile engineering? Can we really derive meaning from minute grammatical inconsistencies? Is the entire mishkan an allegorical reference to creation itself?

Instead of offering any pithy insights this week I dare you to poke around for yourself! Take a casual tour of some major commentators like Rashi, Ramban, Abravanel, Kli Yakar, S.R Hirsch, Nechama Leibowitz. No easy access to Jewish books or source material? Ten or fifteen minutes and an internet connection will give you access to many, many ways to turn the mundane into the magical.

Is it any surprise that the commandment to build the mishkan comes at the same time we welcome in the month of Adar, our most joyous month, calendar home to our festival of physicality, Purim? The verse says, ” They shall build me a sanctuary, and I will dwell IN THEM”- We can indeed have a physical relationship with G-d! In fact, the name of the month, Adar, can be read as A(aleph, the infinite oneness)dar (dwells). During this auspicious month we should strive to connect with the divine spark that is inside each and every one of use. Put the ball in play by learning a little- don’t worry about hitting one out of the park, just get on base. You simply can’t lose…

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Greg

PS

Aren’t you glad I didn’t start this spring training edition of the parasha notes with “In the Big Inning…”

by on February 21, 2012
filed in 07. Terumah, 2. Sh'mot/Exodus
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