A Concerned Life

Long ago Baba ben Butti would visit the Holy Temple in Jerusalem every day.  He'd bring with him sacrifice to be offered on the altar.  

Baba knew that his life was filled with doubts and so many opportunities to unintentionally offend his fellow.  In his heart he wanted nothing more than to cause no hurt so he brought this atonement "just in case."  Perhaps, he thought, I accidentally ignored someone and they were deeply offended.  Maybe my prayers were done imperfectly, without real intention.

The kohanim, priests, to whom he brought the animals, told Baba ben Butti that his sacrifice was not welcome the day after Yom Kippur as Baba emerged from the Day of Atonement cleansed of sin.

Consider the life that acknowledges the pain we can bring unwittingly.  How much kinder would the world be!

Thoughts are Real

 Why does the Torah tell us that after giving birth, a mother must bring a sin offering?

Rabbi Simon bar Yohai answers, "Since she may have cried out in the midst of her birthing pains, "I will never again let my husband come near me."
For such a thought, the Torah requires that a sin offering be brought.
Two ideas emerge from this passage. The first is that people are prone to say regrettable things. We will cry out in the depth or pain despair uttering curses or vows that, given a moment of rational thought, we would never say. The second notion is that even though all humanity may succumb to such wrong and excessive language; we are not excused from what comes from our mouths. We are always held responsible for what we say.
 
The Mishna in Pirkay Avot states, “Know what is above from you. An eye that sees, an ear that hears, and all of your deeds are recorded in a book! (2:1)

What we Carry

 A diamond dealer patiently waited for the arrival of his shipment.  It was late.  The merchant stared out his front window waiting for the diamonds to arrive.  “He should have been here long ago!  Something must have happened, ” he thought.  

Then he saw the man trudging up the street wearily carrying a heavy suitcase.  His shoulders drooped and the messenger looked near exhaustion, almost lifeless.

The merchant ran out to meet him.  “What has happened?  I know something terrible has happened!”

Distraught, the merchant envisioned that that is man sat by the road, drifted off to sleep while a thief made off with the precious stones.  It could not be otherwise because when a person carried something of great value they do not feel the weight but when the carry something valueless it feels like a ton.

Isn’t life like that?  When we carry something we love it is weightless: when it is a burden it is an unbearable weight.  Regrets are like leaden weights.  So are sins.

My sins are over my head.  They are a burden that is too heavy for me. Psalm 38:5

When regrets get in the way of living it is time to jettison them.  It is time to ask God for forgiveness and relieve us of abiding pain that hobbles our growth.

“I am bent and bowed greatly.” Psalm 38:7

Forgive me Lord.  Love me.  Grant me the freedom that comes from your wiping the slate clean.  And Lord, let me, my harshest critic, forgive me. 

Paradise Found

 “We were expelled from Paradise but Paradise was not destroyed.  In a sense, our expulsion from Paradise was a stroke of luck for had we not been expelled Paradise would have had to be destroyed.”  Franz Kafka

 

The familiar story of Eden has many facets.  One of the most compelling aspects to the story is man’s expulsion from it.  From that moment humanity lies fully exposed to aging, disease, and hatred.  The evil unleashed when the Gates of Paradise were closed and locked after the departing Adam Eve has stayed with us.

Who has not yearned for a release from the darkness of this world?  Who has not wept at taking of the forbidden fruit?  All suffering comes from that choice.

Paradise was created before the world came into being pesachim 54a  after the world was cast into being, God then placed Paradise on earth.  But perfection was not meant for this world.  It could not stand in a place where humanity desired more than they needed.  It could not remain where “wants’ were a more powerful urge than sacrifice.  

There was only one choice before God: destroy Paradise or wipe out humanity who not coexist with perfection.  The Holy One accepted neither choice:  He moved Paradise to another place.

Said Rabbi Isaac, “This world is only the vestibule to another world; you must prepare yourself in the vestibule so that you may enter the banquet hall.”
~ Avot, 4, 21.

 

Working Through the Wreckage

            We all “come clean” sooner or later.  The realistic fact of life that touches everyone is that we pick up some pretty nasty habits along the way.  It is difficult, nigh impossible, to not follow some of the false leads we have been shown.  Or have gotten away with.  People in various forms of recovery speak of becoming “clean”.  Drugs, alcohol or sex muddied former lives.  With desire to “clean up their act” comes the hope of scrubbing away the filthy barnacles that have attached themselves to the psyche.

            Around that same period we spiritually fell asleep.  The earth lost its luster, its vibrancy.  The hues of the grass and luminescence of the moon were reduced to monochrome.  With age, and practices that took us away from the awe and splendor which we once knew, comes a bleakness which makes the soul want to cry, “Is this all there is?  Somehow, I remember more...’

            While Judaism is concerned with “cleaning up one’s act,” it aspires to something far greater. 

One of my favorite writers, John Steinbeck records a dialogue between some people on a ranch.  One of them approaches a foal and remarks, “Starts fast when it starts, doesn’t it?  Did it all come at once?”

“Oh no, you just stopped looking for a while.”

            Amazing the things we see when we wake up.

            It seems to me that a lot of what our faith emphasizes is about waking up.  You know the feeling when you arise on one of those warm, bright argent mornings.  The suns warmth touches everything and even dirt appears to be animate.  The world sings.  We are the audience.

            I am ever humbled by the beginning of every berakha “Barukh Ata HaShem Elokaynu Melekh haOlam asher kidshanu...” Who has made us holy.  Each time we utter a blessing, we say that we are in process of accessing our holiness.  Chutzpa? 

           I would like to think that our sights can be set on a consecrated life, one which perceives a joy and excitement in living.  If our tradition stresses any great ideal it is this: Practice the art of consecrated living by approaching the world through then lens of God.