Parashat V’ethanan

Deuteronomy 3:23 – 7:11

“Ata hareita la’da’at ki Hashem hu haElohim, ein ode milvado –you have been shown (by your own seeing) an intimate knowing that YHVH is Divinity, and there is nothing else.” (D’varim 4:35).

In our parasha, Moses recapitulated the Sinai theophany including a second recounting of the 10 Commandments. Just before that, he explained to the Israelites the importance of their actually having seen and experienced the Reality of Divinity.

The traditional translation of “ein ode milvado” is that there is no other god than YHVH: ‘the Lord is God and there is none other’. However, for the Ba’al Shem Tov, these words confirm the non-dual theology that infuses his teachings: there is nothing other than the One. We experience YHVH as Elohim, the All as manifest via time and space, but Reality is that all is God. In the words of the much earlier mystics of the Tikkunei Zohar, “leit atar panui minei- there is no place devoid of the One”

As we travel this week through the mourning and destruction of Tisha B’Av to the comfort and optimism of this coming Shabbat of Consolation, we acknowledge that our brokenness, grief, shortcomings and illnesses, as well as our wonder, dancing and joy are all integral to the Oneness.

We suffer each others’ pain; we are made whole by each other’s healing.

With blessing for hearts of wisdom that truly know and understand the deep truth of our Unity,

Rabbi SaraLeya

6 Av 5769

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Mase’ei: Journey to Our Land, Journey to Ourselves

In this week's parsha, Mase’ei or “Journeys,” we recount the forty-two stages of our epic journey through the wilderness from the narrows of Egypt to the Promised Land. Then, G-d describes the perimeter of our physical land, and gives us our very first rule for how to relate to our land. G-d tells Moses: “open space all around the cities shall you give to the Levites. The cities shall be theirs for dwelling, and their open space shall be for their animals, for their possessions, and for all the amenities of life.” (Numbers 35:2-3). Later, the Talmud applied this rule to the land of all Israelites.

The Torah uses the Hebrew term ‘migrash’ to describe this “open space.” What is a ‘migrash’? Some define it as pasture, or functional agricultural land, while other sages, such as Onkelos translate it as ‘revah,’ simple, natural space. Either way, it is notable that the first requirement for how we are to settle our land is to carve out a part of the land and preserve it without building or planting on it.

Why did G-d require a migrash? Some argue that it was simply smart urban planning. Rashi dispells this notion, emphasizing that a migrash refers to an area consisting of a permanent open space serving as a place of beauty and respite from the city. Maimonides further expounds on this idea, stating that one may not make a migrash into a city, nor into a cultivated field (Mishna Torah, Zeraim, Laws of Shmita and Yovel 13:4-5).

So, even as we end the long journey through the wilderness, and prepare to build our cities, we understand the need to carve out untrammeled space to connect with nature, for there we can find the source of ourselves. As A.D. Gordon, the early labor Zionist explained, “Teshuvah, ‘return’ back to God,’ really means human’s return to nature. This is because teshuvah means going back to one’s point of origin, one’s source, coming back home after a period of absence.”

In our modern world of today, how shall we understand the law of migrash? Considering a historical perspective, we were literally exiled from ‘our’ land and repeatedly displaced from lands for almost two thousand years. Thus we were unable to practice migrash because we were alien people in other people’s lands. Even upon our literal return to ‘our’ land with the return to Israel, we have yet to implement migrash again. Some would say this is because of political and economic realities, which may be true, but on a deeper level I believe that we are currently unable to practice migrash because the mode of exile has become so deeply engrained in each one of us, as Gordon explained, “exile reflects the rift between the Jew and nature.”

Gordon’s perspective resonates with my own, that our inability to practice migrash, and our other land-based covenants such as schmita, is as much a symptom of our physical reality as it is a metaphysical one: “The Jews’ return to their land symbolizes human’s return to nature and cosmos, which is a necessary precondition for one’s regeneration and a Jew’s regeneration in particular and humankind’s regeneration as a whole.” Thus, it is my prayers that on whatever land we reside, may each of us end the journey of exile and begin to repair the rift between nature and us so that we may fully return to ourselves.

Zelig Golden

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Parsha Shelach-Lekha: Send for Yourself and Transcend your Fears

In the parsha for this week, we confront the core obstacle of becoming who we are: fear. After a long journey, Moses and the recently liberated people of Israel stand just outside of the Promised Land. Hashem tells Moses, “Shelach Lekha” – ‘Send for Yourself’ by sending scouts to investigate the land, its resources and the people who reside there. One member from each of our twelve tribes goes forth to explore.

Upon their return, one by one the scouts recount the magic of the land – the land indeed flows with milk and honey and the fruit hangs heavy on the vine. Yet ten of the scouts declare that entering the land is impossible – describing the people of the land as giants that make us look and feel like grasshoppers – “the land eats up its inhabitants,” they told. Based on these reports, the Israelites break out into shrieks of grief and despair, calling for a return back to the narrows of Egypt.

Only two scouts, Joshua and Caleb, pleaded with the Israelites: “The land we traversed and scouted is an exceedingly good land. If Hashem is pleased with us, Hashem will bring us into that land . . . have no fear….” But the Israelites respond with threats of stoning Joshua and Caleb. In the end, only Joshua and Caleb will enter the Promised Land. The scouts who spread fear die of plague, and the rest of the Israelites must wander the desert another forty years, until they are prepared to enter the land.

This story tells of an invariable spiritual truth – it is profoundly difficult to escape the slavery of our conditioning and fear. Even when we glimpse the Promised Land, the place of freedom, and land of milk and honey, we must return to the wilderness of our lives to continue the journey of self-discovery, healing, and knowing the One. As Rabbi Shefa Gold teaches, “over a lifetime we are given glimpses, flashes, and hints that open our awareness to the Reality of paradise and unity that underlies this world.” Our journey is long, yet like the seed of a tree, each glimpse of freedom is the fuel for our journey through the wilderness of our growth.

Yet we also learn from Caleb and Joshua that with faith we can muster the courage to enter the Promised Land whenever we choose. To move us closer to this faith, this parsha ends with a blessing. We are instructed to remember the path of Hashem – by following the mitzvot and connecting with the divine, we can transcend our fears. We are also given a physical tool for remembering – we are told to put tzitzit (fringes) on the corners of our garments with a thread of ocean blue. When we look upon this blue, we recall the ocean, which reflects the sky, and reminds us of the Throne of Glory that we glimpse in each moment of clear awareness. (Talmud Menachot 43b).

Zelig Golden

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