Us and Torah

A Midrash reads, “In the beginning” means that “God looked into the Torah and created with world.”  Torah preceded the Creation.  The ancient sages believed that just as any good building must have an architectural plan so too the universe required an outline so that Hi idea would resemble the end product.  The Torah came first!  It was the “blueprint of the universe.”  Does this sound far-fetched?

Think of the thousands of years of human existence and look with amazement at how our lives, the entire world - has been shaped by Torah.  We base our jurisprudential system of justice of Torah.  We learn how to be merciful to the needy through Torah (it is not just giving but how to fairly distribute).  We gauge our relationship to God, our relationship to others, our connection to Israel, even our language is determined by the holy Writ.  The mitzvot run the gamut from the Ten Commandments to burying our dead.  There is not an aspect of civilization that has not been informed by Torah.

And we are its guardians.

“…I will insist that the Hebrews have done more to civilize men than any other nation.  If I were an atheist, and believed in blind eternal fate, I should still believe that fate had ordained the Jews to be the most essential instrument for civilizing the nations…”.  Written by John Adams in 1809, Adams misses the most critical aspect of our contribution to the world; it was not us that deserve the credit for changing the world’s landscape; it was God’s Torah.

Without Torah we would be as any other people. There would be no Christianity or Islam and the world would probably have remained much more savage.  

We often celebrate ourselves, particularly in this post-Holocaust generation.  Perhaps this is misplaced.   While the victims of the Shoah demand that we remember them (and the world often seems insistent on forgetting its murderous assault) the most gratuitous victory we can claim after Auschwitz is our heritage, the sacred Torah.  This is the real secret power and invincibility of the Jew. As pointed out in the new book Black Earth the real danger perceived by Nazis, nihilists and despots is what makes us unique, Torah.

“All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains.  What is the secret of his immortality?” asked Mark Twain.

The secret is lying out in the open for everyone to see. It is not our charitable gifts; it is where we learn what tzedakah means.  It is not our insistence of evenhandedness or whether we are active Democrats or Republicans; it is the source that sustains our belief in the primacy of mishpat, righteous justice.  It is not that we have excelled in professions but our insistence on lifelong learning, which comes directly from Torah.

Left to our own discernments we would likely choose the path that hurts us the least or benefits us the most.  Torah lengthens our reach beyond self-interest.  That is the real secret to our immortality.

Celebrate the lifeline of the ages, the blueprint of the universe, the reason why we are still here after millennia, and the reason why the Jew will still be informing the world two thousand years from today. Torah.

The Torah Carries

Kiddush HaShem.  We associate it with giving your life for God but it literally means the “Sanctification of the Lord.”

We do Kiddush HaShem every time we learn a word, even a single letter of the holy Torah.  I remember an old man who carried the Torah through the throngs of shul. Each person reached out with his tallit or her siddur to touch the sacred Word as it passed.  It was taking a long time to pass through the crowd. The congregation began to worry about the old man carry the rolled parchment.  One eager young person ran up and said, “Here, let me take that from you, old man.  Let me carry it for a while”  

“Young man,” he replied, “you think I am carrying the Torah?  You could not be more wrong.  The Torah is carrying me.”

So has it been through the ages.  The Torah has carried the Jewish people wherever we traveled or were sent.  Wrapped in garments of fine cloth it travelled in the backs of wagons, in the arms of the young, and sometimes hidden away in a trunk far from eyes that would want to destroy it. I know of one such Torah that was hidden away in a toy chest in Berlin 1939, disguised as a child’s plaything to escape the scrutiny of the Nazis.  This tiny Torah sits in an Ark today, testimony to our faith in God.

The Zohar, the mystic tradition, tells that Torah, God and Israel are one.  They are indivisible. And eternal. There are times when adversity feels like is going to overwhelm us; and when the great prophets speak of moments when the Divine Face is hidden; and Israel is threatened.   Yet, then comes regeneration when we renew our commitment to God, Torah and Israel. Blessing follows.

The renewing of our Torahs is such a time of blessing.

Today we carry the Torah by repairing it letter by letter, word by word.

Tomorrow the Torah will carry us, and future generations, into a limitless future.  

Genuine Love

All love that depends on a (transient) thing, when (the thing) ceases, the love ceases; and (all love) that depends not on a (transient) thing, never ceases. What is the kind of love that depends on a (transient) thing? Such was the love of Amon for Tamar; and (what is the kind of love) that does not depend on a (transient) thing?  Such was the love of David and Jonathan.  -Avot 5:16

Love full.

Eight Days not Seven

Hanukkah does not make sense.  Once upon a time, a dedicated and zealous group of would-be soldiers the sons of Mattathias, overtook the superior Syrian troops.  

They routed the enemy’s armies and made desperate and successful lunge to recapture Jerusalem. When they entered the shambles of what once was the glory of Israel they could only locate a single small pot of oil, with the remaining stamp of the Kohane Gadol on it.   Only that oil was suitable for the eternal flame, the menorah. It was enough oil to last one day. And as we all learned that oil burned for an additional week well beyond the day's supply.

The rabbis, of blessed memory, take pains to point out that the miracle of Hanukkah was that the small cruse of oil lasted eight full days when expected to burn for only a single day. Then why does this holiday last eight days? If the miracle was that the oil burned until more could be prepared, seven days, and then why is Hanukkah not seven days in order to commemorate the miracle??

A Parable.

Once there was a king who had a rebellious son. The father chided the boy on his perverse ways. At times he scolded his son, at times he punished him severely; other times overlooking his evil, the father grew more and more despondent. When he could no longer tolerate the boy’s behavior, the sad father expelled the son from his empire.

Wandering aimlessly for days and weeks the boy learned some profound lessons. He endured terrible loneliness and silent afflictions until the boy accepted himself and understood how awful he had behaved toward his beloved father.

But the boy could not go home. He was filled with remorse at his past actions.  His heart, as heavy as a stone, began to seek atonement. He found a great sage and asked the ancient one how we could possibly ever return to his father, having shamed him before his people and even publicly ridiculed him.

”Have you nothing good to say about your early years?” the sage asked.  

“No.  I rejected everything he stood for,” replied the tearful son.  “When my father told me to eat I fasted.  When he told me to bathe, I covered myself with mud.  When he demanded that I study I shot arrows at his favorite flocks.”

The wise  one stared at the grieving figure for a full minute before speaking:

”Then how have you become so contrite? If you are so evil, what has made you realize your wrongs toward your father?”  He continued,  “No human being is fully evil. Every person has a residue of goodness in it--what we call a gute neshama.  You may return to your father because even as you spurned him, he loved you.”

Seven days are for the miracle of lights. However the flames would never have been kindled if not for the first pot of oil on discovered by the Maccabees. So on the final day we celebrate the miracle as well as the kernel of goodness that enabled festival of lights to occur in the first instance.

Mezzuzot

Every Jew should have mezzuzot on their doors.

What is exactly mezuzah? It is not the case that we nail on our doorframe.  The mezuzah is what lies inside the case. What is inside? Most of us never open one to see. 

One day a man’s curiosity got the better of him pulled the mezuzah off his door frame and peered inside.  Inside was a message: “Help.  Call the police. I am imprisoned in a mezuzah factory!”

What is really inside? It is a hand written parchment, just like our Torah, containing sections from the holy Writ. Scribed by hand are the words of the Shma and following sections that we pray daily. Each parchment must have exactly 22 lines and on the reverse side have God’s name, Shaddai.

Mezzuzot are ongoing reminders of God’s presence in our lives and in our homes. We see them on the right-hand side as we enter into the house. Traditionally, we touch it and kiss it as we go into our home seeking God’s blessing. It is at eye level so that we cannot miss seeing it when we come into our house.

When I visited Poland years ago I walked through the old town of Krakow. I saw one doorway after another with a rectangle about 4 inches long and 1 inch wide carved into the lintels.  These once Jewish homes are mute testimony to the vibrant life that once thrived in the communities of Eastern Europe.

Those old scars in the doorways tell stories. Once there were weddings and brises in this home. People gathered around seder tables and sang and studied. Children were chased and chastised. Love was consummated. Chicken soup wafted on the breeze every Friday evening along with the scent of freshly baked hallah.

Now there is only silence.  Yet these empty spaces are witnesses.

Our mezuzah also testifies to what happens there. They are watchful reminders of a power far greater than us.  They mark our homes as Jews who are proud to be counted as God’s people.  Like the lintels marked in Egypt during the final plague, they invite the Holy One to enter and bless us.

The threshold to every house is small; it is passed and a fraction of a second. Yet the threshold is also boundary. It divides the outside world from the inner world. It separates the home from the street, an office from the hall. This space bridges two worlds and is marked by a mezuzah.

Every room in our home has a mezuzah (the only exception is the bathroom).  This creates sacred space.  It is an invitation to God that the Holy One is welcome here.  It also reminds us that our home is holy and to treat everyone in it with care, not God forbid, with abuse or neglect.

Torah and Us

The problem is us. Not them. Us.

We get in the way of ourselves. We become hopelessly tangled up in the mess we have created. Lives become shattered as wrong words pierce the soul. Feelings are hurt and forever bruised with an offhand remark that was never intended to wound.

We later wonder, “How did it happen?”  “What was the catalyst for such pain?”

”Before you can find God, you must lose yourself,”said the Baal Shem Tov.

How do we find ourselves if we do not know that were lost in the first place? 

For the Jew the beginning and the end can be found in Torah. Genesis details the deliberate actions of the Lord and crafting the universe. Generation after generation wrestles with identity, truth and looks for peace.  We see in their faces the sorrow and the burdens that they carry as we retell and relive the Text year after year. The disappointments run deep. And still God hopes in us.

“Being full of ourselves leaves little room for the Divine Presence to dwell. Egotism is inherently anti-spiritual. Arrogance can be seen as a form of self worship that comes dangerously close to idolatry,”wrote Aaron Z. 

And so we move into the book of Exodus where God reveals himself, His will and His faith in us. God never abandons hope in what we can become.  That is why He shared His most precious possession, Torah, with us.  It is our guidebook to be less prideful, more humble, more inwardly loving and outwardly caring.  With clearer vision from its sacred words we see life for what it can be, not just what it is.

Moving forward into the book of Leviticus we learn how to talk to God and listen more intently to one another.  It teaches us how to reach into our inner core of being and be open, vulnerable and honest.  We learn the value of sacrifice.

In the fourth book of the Torah, Numbers, we learn about our worth. This book teaches the incalculable value of our people. Every person is holy and our nation is holy. You will find idea this stated in our prayers over and again. One Hasidic Sage commented, “Man is the language of God.”   

In the final book of the Torah, Deuteronomy we learn the power of loss and love.   A wise person once said, “If everyone of us was told we had only five minutes to live, the telephone lines would be hopelessly jammed because all of us would be rushing to tell someone how much we really loved them.”   Deuteronomy is Moses’ love song to his nation as he is about to die.  The book is filled with deep wisdom reminding us of the precious knowledge contained in these books.

With Torah we are rich.  We are one.

Hanukkah

The Festival of Lights. Even the name itself rings lustrous. Brightly burning flames, the aroma of frying latkes, shadows playing over the wall: they jump, fall and the rise again. We never know where they will go next.  In the deep recesses of winter we light the colored candles that radiate great hope when light becomes dimmest.

The Hanukkah stories are well worn. We are very familiar with the great wars, triumphs and amazing heroism of the Maccabees. We recall Mattathias, an old man standing up to a tyrannical power, and the handsome, winning bravery of Judah Maccabee  The stories are remembered and retold from year to year, generation to the willing ears of the new generation who listen wide-eyed with anticipation of what is coming.  These stories have all the components that summon our attention: they speak of a daring and courageous history where courage and light purge the land of Israel from impurity. Once we were fierce warriors. It was a different world.   

A child peers into the brilliance of the dancing flames and sees those epic battles relives them. Remember how many times we experienced and saw brave warriors in our minds, vanquishing all the enemies of the Jews! It is the moment of consummate triumph when we turned back the Greeks, the Pharaohs, the Hamans and even the Hitlers of history.

Which was better -- when mommy told us the stories as we lit the candles?  Or when we anxiously turned the pages of the book, or watched the movie?  It was a great and promising story from beginning to end. There is a clear demarcation of those that were wicked and bad and the other side, which was brave and righteous.  The good guys with God on their side prevailed.

What about the family playing dreidel that night? The gathered family and friends to celebrate, nosh and schmooze around the Hanukkiah?  When we push through all the cobwebs of the mind and remember those halcyon days they bring a smile to our face. Even now lips begin to curl upward in anticipation. We cannot help but recall the bubbling sound of frying potatoes in the kitchen. And the table set for eating, mixed together with a sulfurous odor from the Hanukkah lights.

Hanukkah was always warm. Steamed, fogged windows framed with light patches of water droplets.  Little fingers that drew pictures on the windows during those evenings when darkness came early.

The evenings were long. Filled with the sounds of voices, air that was so thick that it penetrated every fiber of our bodies, songs, games, stories…. it is hard to remember when it all ended. Did we get dressed slowly into pajamas?  Or did the night suddenly end as tired eyelids folded over and tiny bodies were tucked into bed? Those things remain in our hearts. The quilts under which our body snuggled became infused with the smell and the excitement of the sacred evening.

Good night and Hanukkah sameach.