Behar-Bechukotai
Spiritual Interfaces: Restfulness & Vigilance (5772/2012)

Talmud identifies seven heavens. The heavens are identified by Hebrew names, and described by Biblical verses. Each heaven offers a different point of access to God, i.e., a different spiritual experience: a new day dawning, the starry sky, spiritual nourishment, a formal prayer-space, music, storms, and justice.

Torah suggests that some people find God in cycles of seven. On the seventh day, God rested and “souled” (Parshat Ki Tisa). In the seventh year, farmers are instructed to leave their fields fallow, and let God use them to provide food for all in need (Parshat Re’eh). After the seventh cycle of the seventh year, freedom is called for everyone enslaved by debt; all return to the economic equality they enjoy in the sight of God (Parshat Behar). The number seven signals a time to rest and let go.

The practice of Sefirat Ha’Omer involves observing our inner spiritual processes seven days a week for seven weeks, without a rest. True, week seven if for observing Shechinah, God’s indwelling Presence, in our own consciousness, so it is a week to enjoy the fruits of purposeful spiritual development. But it is a week of mindfulness nonetheless.

Does this suggest that at least one “heaven” has no cycle of rest – that if we hope to meet God through the practice of mindfulness, we can never pause? That if we lose touch, even briefly, we are at risk of anxiety, depression and self-destruction (Parshat Bechukotai)? Or do we need to recognize that mindfulness has its own ebb and flow, responding to individual consciousness and circumstances? Perhaps even the most vigilant among us can recognize it is human to rest and let go, forgive ourselves, make amends, and move on.

Bread in the Temple: What is it to you?

http://textandcity.blogspot.com/2012_05_06_archive.html

Emor
Wordless Revelation (5772/2012)

Question: Usually, when Torah reports that God speaks, it uses the verb vayidaber, God spoke words. In Parshat Emor, Torah uses the word vayomer, God spoke. What does the Torah teach by shifting to vayomer, speech without words?

Philosopher William James: The foundation of religious experience lies in temporary mystical experiences that come upon human beings without human agency, as if a divine power reaches out. Mystical experiences seem to occur out of time, in spaces that open up in the fabric of life. In such spaces, a deeper meaning of life is revealed. When ordinary consciousness returns, a sense of the deeper meaning somehow stays. People say they have been permanently changed, that they carry new knowledge with them – and yet, they are utterly unable to put that knowledge into words.

Philosopher Baruch Spinoza: Our teacher Moshe often received communications from God in words. Still, words have shortcomings. They require a physical medium. God delivers them through a voice, and people hear them through their ears. Voice and ears are both created things. Thus, any message delivered in words is twice removed from God the creator. Only mind-to-mind communication is undistorted revelation.

Conclusion: Words and concepts do shape spiritual experience. But no words will speak to everyone, and no practice will endure for all time. Thus we must at times let go of words and concepts, and be open to new dimensions of experience. As we grow spiritually, we alternate between the more directive vayidaber and the more open-ended vayomer.

http://www.inner.org/parshah/leviticus/emor/index.php

This is a link to teachings about counting the Omer – The Lights of Iyar and the Lulav- The Inner Meaning of Species.

Behar: Shemitah – Window to the Future
Like the Garden of Eden

Ask any farmer — agricultural labor is hard work. Plowing, planting, weeding, pruning, harvesting, and so on. That, however, is not how it was supposed to be. The world was originally designed to be like life in the Garden of Eden. Agricultural labor was only cursed after Adam’s sin – “By the sweat of your brow you will eat bread” (Gen. 3:19).

As humanity advances morally, however, the earth responds in like measure with sublime blessing. The Talmud in Ketubot 111b foretells that, in the future, cakes and fine clothing will sprout directly from the ground. At that time, even physical labor will take on a nobler, more refined character.

We are granted a glimpse of this future world through the mitzvah of Shemitah, the Sabbatical year. During this year of cessation from all agricultural labor, we are content to partake of the land’s natural produce. Like the tranquil world of the Garden of Eden, we are able to enjoy the earth’s God-given bounty, without toil and labor.

Other aspects of the Garden of Eden are temporarily restored during the sabbatical year. With the prohibition of buying and selling Shemitah produce, economic competition is reduced. Even more: the heart is refined to recognize the common brotherhood of all creatures. We may eat of the earth’s produce only for as long as it is also available to the animals in the field. The Sabbatical and Jubilee years are a taste of a future utopia. They herald the coming of a sublime new world that is the result of a loftier spirituality.

Elevating Agriculture

Until then, it is our obligation to elevate agricultural labor from its lowly state. This is accomplished through the holy light found in technology and science. In the future, the Sages tell us, all artisans will leave their crafts and work the land (Yevamot 63a). This does not mean that they will no longer work in their respective professions, but that all crafts and sciences will be used to redeem the earth and its toil from its primordial curse.

This progress in agriculture, however, only redeems mankind. It is only a preparatory stage in the redemption of the entire world. In the final redemption, working the land will not be an obligation, but a privilege and a pleasure. We will pleasantly tour in the Garden of Eden (Eden meaning ‘pleasure’), working and guarding it.

There are future levels even beyond the Garden of Eden. Going past the garden to Eden itself, however, is beyond all prophetic vision; Eden is a realm that transcends all forms of labor and guarding.

(Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 216-217. Adapted from Orot HaKodesh, vol. II, pp. 563-564.)

Parshat Emor
Torah Reading for Week of May 6-12, 2012

“Come closer to Me”
By Belle Michael, AJRCA Fourth Year Rabbinic Student

We are counting the days now towards the festival of Shavuot. This Jewish holiday celebrates a mythical moment of revelation. We experience a wholesome encounter with G-d. As we are preparing ourselves both physically and spiritually for this sacred meeting, we read in our parasha (Leviticus 23:2):

“דבר אל בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם מועדי ה’ אשר תקראו אותם מקרא קודש אלה הם מועדי”

“Speak to the Israelite people and say to them: “These are My fixed times, the fixed times of the Lord, which you shall proclaim as sacred occasions” (JPS translation). The root KARA means “to call”; therefore, “Mikraei Kodesh”– could be understood to mean sacred callings. In Leviticus 23, G-d lists the times He/She would expect the people of Israel to come for a meeting. It is surprising to find out that the All Mighty G-d is the One who is calling us. Isn’t it amazing that G-d wants to meet us?

Not only does G-d want to meet us, but G-d also provides us with a detailed time frame and structured ritual for these sacred encounters. At these sacred meetings, the priests play a significant role mainly by officiating with “Korbanot” (that is, sacrifices). The word “Korban (sacrifice) in its different conjugations and variations appears repeatedly in this passage. The medieval commentator, Rashi, explained that “Korban” comes from the root KARAV, which means to come closer.

Reading this week’s parasha, I got the sense that G-d is calling us, “Come closer, Come to meet Me,” and makes sure that we have many opportunities to do so. Like a longing parent or companion, G-d wants us to know when, where, and how we can meet: “Come for Shabbat, “Come for Rosh Hashanah,” “Come to see me on Sukkoth.”

Apparently, it is not only G-d who is longing for connection and meeting; we all are. We all are waiting for someone to call us and reconnect. Some of us do so in lightning and thunder, and others with a still, quiet voice.

Coming closer to G-d starts with coming closer to Adonai’s creatures – to human beings. Martin Buber stated that the way to a relationship with G-d is through real contacts with people and nature. ”In each Thou, we address the Eternal Thou.” According to Buber, “All real life is meeting.”

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel heard G-d’s call and urged us to act, saying that our deeds and actions are responses to that call. Through deeds and actions, we meet G-d.

This understanding of G-d’s calling aroused in me a personal memory. I thought of my grandmother, Baba Koka, calling in her gentle voice: “Come to see me on Shabbat –I’ll bake you shtrudel”; “Come for Shavuot”– I’ll make you blintzes…”

Unfortunately, we have lost Baba Koka to Alzheimer’s disease, and I can no longer connect with her. I miss her so much.

This painful memory makes me regret missed opportunities for meeting. It also makes me wonder what other opportunities I am missing to come close to others. How can I come closer to G-d without coming closer to Adonai’s human family?

On this Shabbat, maybe this will be your question too. On this Shabbat, surely each of us can find the time to call and make somebody happy to hear from us.

Shabbat shalom

Shabbat Parashat Aharey Mot-Kedoshim
May 5, 2012 / 13 Iyar 5772
By: Rabbi Cheryl Peretz,
Associate Dean Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies
(This week’s message is inspired by and dedicated to my mother, Geraldine Peretz, who with God’s blessing, celebrated her 80th birthday this week)

Wisdom of the Ages

Torah Reading: Leviticus 16:1 – 20:27
Haftarah Reading: Amos 9:7-15
Ours is a society that glorifies youth as a sign of vitality, vigor, strength, and beauty. Television and pop cultural images are full of Hollywood celebrities and sports figures whose fame and fortune is based in their youthful look and/or talent, establishing themselves, for many, as national heroes. Lucky are the ones amongst them who continue into their later years gaining ongoing recognition and accolades as they mature and age. At the same time, however, despite the fact that more people are living longer and in good health than ever before, for many, older years are viewed only as good as the vigor of youth made them. So often we shun our elders, casting them away, assuming they are no longer valued or valuable.
Truth be told, the influence for this is not simply an outcome of modern pop culture. Even our own Jewish text and tradition expresses some of the ambivalence and challenges of aging, encapsulated by this poetic warning from the Book of Ecclesiastes:
So, rejoice your vigor and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth, and walk in the ways of your heart, and in the sight of your eyes; but know, that for all these things God will bring you into judgment. And remove sorrow from your heart, and put away evil from your flesh; for childhood and youth are vanity. Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come, and the years draw near, when you shall say, I have no pleasure in them; Before the sun, and the light, and the moon, and the stars are darkened, and the clouds return after the rain; When the guards of the house tremble, and the men of valor are bent, and the maids that grind, grown few, are idle, and the ladies that peer through the windows grow dim, And the doors are shut on the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low. Also, when they are afraid of that which is high, and fears are in the way, and the almond tree blossoms, and the grasshopper drags itself along, and desire fails; because man goes to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets; Before the silver cord is removed, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. And the dust returns to the earth as it was; and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
Ecclesiastes 11:9-12:7
Is it any wonder then that some fear aging and shy away from it? Even within our own family and community, some of us turn from our elders allowing fears, hardships, anxiety, and risks of loss and dependency to govern how we interact. Yet, In the middle of what is known as the Holiness Code in this week’s double Torah portion of Aharei Mot-Kedoshim, the Torah reminds us how important senior members of our community are, commanding ‘You shall rise before the gray headed and honor/show deference to the face of an older person, and fear your God: I am the Lord. (Leviticus 19:32) The Talmud (Kiddushin 33a) understands a zaken, an older person to be zeh shekanah hochmah – this one who has acquired wisdom. Simply through living and experiencing, a person represents wisdom acquired with age, and this deserves our respect and honor. In modern terms, Abraham Joshua Heschel taught, “old age [should] not be regarded as the age of stagnation, but as the age of opportunities for inner growth….They are indeed formative years, rich in possibilities to unlearn the follies of a lifetime, to see through inbred self deceptions, to deepen understanding and compassion, to widen the horizon of honesty, to refine the sense of fairness.
When Abraham died at 175 years old, he is described as having reached: ‘a good old age, old and satisfied.’ According to a striking Midrash (Breisheet Rabbah 65:9), before Abraham, there was no such thing as old age in the world. People got older, but their faces and bodies didn’t change, and there was no outward appearances of aging. Therefore, says the midrash, since Isaac looked very much like his father, Abraham, when they both came into the room, no one could tell them apart and no one recognized Abraham for what he had done in the many years of his life. It was then that Abraham prayed for the aging process. God thought about it and granted it, immediately saying: ‘Abraham became old.’ (Genesis 24:1).
In contrast to our modern culture, the midrash understands the signs of aging as desirable and meaningful – teaching us that every grey hair earned its color through hard work, struggle, worry, and perseverance. Each wrinkle is an etching of times passed, memories imprinted on life’s canvas, and full of lessons to be learned. Each biological change is a vessel of Torah and wisdom that we have to learn from the person living it. Our tradition doesn’t just teach or suggest, but demands that we stand and honor those precious experiences and the people who lived through them.
Within the Hebrew words of the commandment is something even beyond standing and beyond honor. The Hebrew word v’hadarta translated in our verse as ‘honor/show deference to’ shares a Hebrew root with the word hidur, a word we know from the term hidur mitzvah, talking about the ways we beautify or enhance our observance of a mitzvah through taking steps beyond the minimum requirement. (A popular example of hidur mitzvah is the practice of lighting an increasing number of candles on each night of Hanukah as opposed to fulfilling the basic mitzvah of lighting one candle each night.)
V’hadarta pnei zaken – together, we bear the responsibility to beautify and enhance the face of the older person – to recognize the individual person as special, to maintain his/her dignity, to cherish the opportunity to share our short time together on this earth, to preserve the lessons learned from our aging, to take notice of his/her continued contributions to family, community and society, and to actively transcend the wrinkles and gray hairs to acquire wisdom.
Ken Yehi Ratzon – so may it be.
Shabbat shalom!

Kedoshim: Love Your Neighbor As Yourself

http://reblaura.com/parsha/divrei-torah-sermons/kedoshim-love-your-neighbor-as-yourself/ 2007

Torah’s Life Cycle Wisdom (2012/5772)

The Torah begins with birth. “In the beginning God created…but the land was empty, and what was there was a bit chaotic.”

The Torah ends with death. “Moshe died, and was buried, and the Israelites mourned him. God knew Moshe, face to face, inner being to inner being.”

Between these two bookends lies the story of the Torah – and the developmental story of a person’s inner life. You know the chapters:

Bereisheet — Beginning; Shemot — Finding Your Name; Vayikra — God Calls; Bamidbar — Wandering in the Wilderness; Devarim — Words and Reflections

In the middle of the chapter “God Calls,” Torah offers the wisdom that brings us from chaos to Presence: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

The five chapters set out Torah’s ideal life plan. In mid-life, we learn the deep wisdom of love, and we are graced with the opportunity to share it as we help our companions face life’s wilderness journeys.

But the world is not always an ideal place. This week at Or Shalom Synagogue we lost a dear friend whose chronological age places her squarely in the middle of her life’s journey. And yet, from the time she found her true inner name, she taught us through her words and actions, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Our sages say, eyn mukdam u’meuchar baTorah – the teachings of Torah don’t necessarily unfold in a linear temporal order. Some of us are just beginning; others are reflecting. Some are wandering in the wilderness, while others are claiming with clarity their true names. This is the beauty of community: a group of people, each exploring different stages of spiritual wisdom, shares and grows together in an unpredictable multidimensional trajectory.

Welcome to God’s world.

Achrei Mot: Atonement in Context
http://reblaura.com/parsha/divrei-torah-sermons/achrei-mot-atonement-in-context/

G-ds Vulnerability

http://www.meaningfullife.com/torah/parsha/vayikra/kedoshim/G-ds_Vulnerability.php