Judaism – Page 8 – The Tree of Life

Day 5 – counting of the omer

day 5 – counting of the omer – hod shebbe chesed

The attribute of hod has to do with the character trait of humility. When we humble ourselves before G-d, then His splendor may shine through us. Also, hod is likened to the quality of sincerity in our lives. A certain amount of sincerity is required to be humble; when we are sincere about our abilities, without exaggerating our talents, nor our accomplishments, this will pave the way towards an honest assessment of ourselves.

From this point of humility within, we may express loving-kindness towards others. Conversely, haughtiness does not foster kindness. When we humble ourselves, can we truly allow HaShem’s splendor to inspire us to give to others. Therefore, in expressing kindness toward others, we are actually reflecting the Image of G-d, whose splendor flows to all who observe His commandments. This is explained in chassidus, as the mitzvah (good deed) drawing down His light through the presence of the Shechinah.

Let the light of G-d radiate out toward others through acts of loving-kindness.

Day 4 – counting of the omer

netzach shebbe chesed

The emotional attribute of netzach (endurance) also means perseverance, resilience, and forbearance. In life, our feelings do not remain static. Challenges will impact our ability to remain calm, patient, and loving. Endurance of the adversities that are encountered day by day, will help to transcend the negative and keep a smile on our face.

Relationship commitments with others also require endurance. Personal bonds with others need to be sustained through forbearance of the other’s faults. A strong emotional tie is not enough unless the commitment to be loving also incorporates the tenacity to endure the challenges between two people in relationship to each other.

Love requires the grit of commitment to endure. Persistent kindness covers all faults.

Day 3 – counting of the omer

Tiferes shebbe Chesed

The nature of tiferes, in terms of its expression as a middah (character trait), can best be designated as “harmony.” Therefore, one question for today could be construed as whether or not one’s acts of loving-kindness are performed in a way that denotes a harmonious balance to all concerned in the endeavor.

Moreover, in our own personality makeup, where is the harmony within that can promote feelings of kindness to others? Sincere kindness flows from a peaceful, harmonious place within ourselves. Are you able to envision your heartfelt acts of kindness bringing harmony to the lives of others? Or do you think of your kindnesses only as a small drop in the bucket?

Consider that the ripple effect of kindness may be greater than you can imagine.

Day 2 – counting of the omer

gevurah shebbe chesed

The middah (character trait) of gevurah may be expressed as a measure of strictness. Therefore, one way of conceiving of gevurah within chesed could have to do with applying a measure of strictness to the quality of kindness. Placing a limit on our kindness, in response to the awareness that not every situation is best suited to respond in kindness involves a dash of wisdom.

Therefore, chesed may require the use of discernment, in order to ascertain how much kindness would be appropriate to the situation. Boundaries are essential to the maintenance of identity. Where do I begin and the other person starts? This question must be regulated in real time by each and every individual. Being kind to others, without standing up for oneself simply amounts to people pleasing, at the expense of oneself.

There must be a healthy balance between chesed and gevurah, and sometimes the strictness of gevurah is necessary to restore a sense of self and integrity.

The Pesach Lamb

Shabbat HaGadol 5784

“Speak ye unto all the congregation of Israel, saying: In the tenth day of this month they shall take to them every man a lamb, according to their fathers’ houses, a lamb for a household.” – Exodus 12:3, JPS 1917 Tanach

Shabbos HaGadol, the Sabbath before Passover, commemorates the tenth of Nissan (see above). On the tenth of Nissan, only four days before the culmination of our Redemption from Mitzraim (Egypt), B’nei Yisrael was commanded to take a lamb “without blemish” (12:5), and “keep it unto the fourteenth day of the same month,” when the lamb would be slaughtered at dusk (12:6).

According to commentary, when the Egyptians would ask about this, being especially concerned, because the lamb was a type of deity for them, the Children of Israel would respond that the lamb was to be used as an offering to H’Shem. Needless to say, the Egyptians were none to happy about this – their deity being slaughtered – yet, they were prevented by H’Shem from offering any resistance.

This is the lamb that would be slaughtered, “And they shall take of the blood, and put it on the two side-posts and on the lintel, upon the houses wherein they shall eat it..” (Exodus 12:7, ibid). It was provided as a sign, that the Angel of Death would pass over the homes, where the blood had been placed on the doorposts, and lintel. It is of interest to note, that the word, lintel is derived from the Latin, limitaris, meaning, “constituting a boundary” (Merriam-Webster). Indeed, a boundary was drawn that night, between life and death.

The sages explain that this Passover lamb was tied to the bedposts in the homes of the B’nei Yisrael in Egypt. The lamb was inspected for four days for blemishes. On the afternoon of the fourteenth of Nissan at dusk the lamb was slaughtered; its blood was placed upon the doorposts and lintels as a sign. “The blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where you are; and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and there shall no plague be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 12:13). The blood of the lamb protected the Jewish homes from the plague of death, and procured our redemption through the demonstration of our emunah (faith) towards H’Shem.

parasha Tazria 5784

“This shall be the law of the leper in the day of his cleansing: he shall be brought unto the priest [kohein].” – Leviticus 14:2, JPS

In each case, whether a person’s home, clothing, or body is stricken with a nega (plague), he is brought to the kohein. The kohein determines not only the status of the suspected nega; he also is qualified on a spiritual level to gain insight on the state of the person’s soul. This concept is in line with the understanding of tzarras as a spiritual malaise that manifests as a skin disease.

Tzarras is one type of nega, the other two in question, here, are those that show up on a person’s clothes or the walls of a home. In all cases, as already mentioned above, the kohein is the sole individual, who uses his discernment to ascertain the specific sin that was the root cause of the blemish on a person’s soul, that manifested as a nega (literally, “plague”).

What can we learn from this connection? HaShem is merciful; He causes afflictions such as negaim (plagues), for the sake of our chastisement, to lead us to teshuvah (repentance). He will send “an early warning signal” as a “wake up call,” specifically designated for us, so that we may scrutinize our own selves, in search for our misdeeds, character defects, and deficiencies.

With the help of the light, shining from Above, we may gain insight into our inner plight.

The Biblical leper was sent outside of the camp to reflect on his spiritual path. In order to focus on their inner-self, state of mind, and psyche, the familiar moorings of community were temporarily diminished. Comparatively speaking, when all else is stripped away, and we realize that there is something more to life than the superficial veneer of materialism, and worldly comforts we have permitted ourselves to arrive at the spiritual door of contemplation, in regard to what lies beyond the mundane existence of life.

Plagues are brought upon the world, and our individual lives as a type of chastisement, to move us in the direction of spiritual growth. If we take admonition to heart, then we will seek improvement in our lives. Yet, what will bring us to that point, where there appears to be a compelling drive to seek beyond the ordinary and delve deeper into our psyche, in search of the answer to questions, unable even to be formed by our conscious mind. Rather, it is a yearning to see beyond the veil, and reach across the chasm between us and a sense of the divine. That encounter first begins in a place of solitude, wherein the silence opens up to an actuality.

The existential loneliness that is at the core of existence is usually avoided by most people through interpersonal relationships, and intrapersonal occupation. Minus these two distractions, in the midst of both interpersonal and intrapersonal isolation, we find existential isolation. Yet, there is no need to be lonely, because the creator is at hand, hidden in the silence, as if He has always been waiting to be found by us. So, like the leper, who is isolated, if we find ourselves with the time, patience, and solitude to explore the unknown, the truth may be revealed to us.

Kashrut Blues

In parasha Shemini, the laws regarding Kashrut are introduced in the sixth Aliyah. As I began to study the reading for Friday, the night before as usual, I noticed that seemed hesitant. As I reflected upon this, I began to recall my early experiences with kashrut. I grew up in a Jewish Conservative household; although, my parents did not begin to keep kosher until I was approaching bar-Mitzvah age.

What this meant for me in practical terms was no more Oreo cookies or ice-cream sandwiches. Yet, I secretly hid a package of Oreos in my room underneath my bed; and, I ensconced a box of ice-cream sandwiches at the bottom of the freezer. It is over forty years since those deceitful escapades on my part; why should I all of a sudden be having cravings as I begin to study the laws of Kashrut as outlined in the parasha?

On October 21^st of 2023, a little more than five months ago, I stopped drinking wine or any other kind of alcoholic beverage. I did so, even though I only ever drank wine for Shabbos and Yom Tov, and on a rare occasion a little schnapps on Shabbos, like every 2-3 months. Yet, now, is my yetzer hara turning me toward craving unkosher sweets? I’ve heard that it’s important to do layer upon layer of teshuvah, going more in-depth in order to make an earnest return to HaShem; however, I never expected this challenge. Perhaps, it’s part of the overall refinement of my soul.

Neither Oreos, nor unkosher ice-cream sandwiches have the potential to promote spiritual growth. On the contrary, treif is a detriment to the Jewish soul, lessening the spiritual receptivity of the soul to the divine. No doubt, Oreos and ice-cream sandwiches were the least of my sins as a youth; yet, their insidious properties, i.e., in the form of lard may have been quietly taking their toll upon my acuity toward Yiddishkeit. After abstaining all these years, I must continue to do so.

Seeking Solace Amidst the Chaos

There is a spirit of unrest upon the world. I am speaking figuratively; yet, I am reminded of the opening of the Book of Genesis. The Ruach HaElokim (the spirit of G-d) hovered over the water. The earth itself was tovu vavohu – formless and void – and there was “darkness upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of G-d hovered over the face of the waters” (Genesis 1:2, JPS). The opening passage of the six days of Creation has to do with the unfolding of chaos into order over successive stages in the earth’s history.

It seems that rather than progressing from chaos into order according to G-d’s directive, his creation has again descended into chaos. This restlessness that compels dissent, protest, and division is in direct contrast to G-d’s presence hovering over the waters at the beginning of creation. Yet, there must be a compelling reason to believe that G-d’s presence, although not discernible at times, is still with His creation. And, He is the only One of whom we may turn toward to still the restlessness in our hearts.

For, if we tune into His presence within the silence of the nighttime, or in the early hours of the morning, the daily grind, and excessive focus on world events melts away into the air. It is at this quiet time, from evening to dawn, that solitude may be sought in the stillness. Within that peace, that is almost tangible, begins renewal, and the realization off what is essential in life.

A certain kind of detachment from the uproars in society, as portrayed in the news, and people’s constant attention on these distractions, is necessary in order to remove ourselves from the turmoil, so that our emotions are not compelled to react in a negative way. Without the solace provided by seeking out the peace from Above, I can’t imagine how else to bear with the incessant continuation of noise, whether it’s political, cultural, or societal. Religion has always provided a sanctuary for the heart and troubled mind, and faith the constant security of the soul.

dvar Shemini 5784

This parasha begins with the culmination of the inauguration service for the Kohanim, on the eighth day of the inauguration. The parasha begins with the Hebrew word vayehi, that has a special significance in regard to what is about to occur. According to the Talmud, “Anywhere that the word vayehi is stated, it is an ominous term indicating nothing other than impending grief, as if the word were a contraction of the words vai and hi, meaning woe and mourning” (Megillah 10b, sefaria.org).

What proceeds on Nissan 1st – the eighth day of the inauguration – is the semi-permanent construction of the mishkan, and the beginning of the roles of the kohanim within the framework of the Levitical system of offerings. Yet, it is a bittersweet moment, because if it had not been for the sin of the golden calf, the construction of the mishkan would not have been necessary. As Sforno explains, originally, every Israelite would have been worthy of receiving HaShem’s presence, manifested as the Shechinah, without the need for the Tabernacle.

The parallel to this intention is found in the pasuk, “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them” (Exodus 25:8, JPS). This verse can also be rendered as “so that I may dwell within them,” meaning each and every Israelite. So that Bnei Yisrael was meant for a closeness with HaShem that would have been bestowed upon them, because of the level that they were at initially at Sinai.

This is still something that we should aspire to today, by making ourselves a mishkan that will receive His Presence, as result of our sanctification through the commandments. This does not exclude the expectation of the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem; rather, His presence within us is complementary to where he will rest his visible presence at that time. Shavua tov.

parasha Tzav 5784

“And the fire upon the altar shall be kept burning thereby, it shall not go out; and the priest [kohein] shall kindle wood on it every morning.” – Leviticus 6:5, JPS 1917 Tanach

No other offerings could precede the morning olah, the first of the two tamid offerings, made in the morning and the afternoon; thus, every morning the first order of business in serving HaShem, for the kohein, included adding wood on the mizbeach, before offering up the olah (Bava Kamma 111a). According to the Talmud, two logs of wood were added to the fire on the mizbeach (outer altar) every morning and evening (Yoma 27b).

Prior to this, the remnant of ashes from the remaining parts of the olah offering from the previous night, were first collected, and set aside near the mizbeach (altar). Then, the kohein changed out of his sacred clothes to used garments, in order to bring those ashes outside “to a pure place.” (Leviticus 6:4).

The changing of garments signifies a delineation between the sacred and profane, inasmuch that the transition from one service to another required different garments. The separating of the ashes, placing them in a pile next to the mizbeach (altar) was one service. Taking the ashes outside to a pure place was another.

The second set of garments were bound to be soiled, when bringing the ashes outside to the third camp. This was a designated area, further away from the central location of the mishkan (tabernacle).

Each camp, at an increasingly further perimeter around the mishkan had its own level of holiness. This denotes the overall theme of sacred and mundane found in the Torah, as well as in our own lives.