Rabbi Jon's Website and Blog

Introducing: Heschel Every Week

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, of blessed memory, was one of the great spiritual teachers in the Conservative movement in the 20th century.  He brought together Talmud, philosophy, and Chasidic thought.  He taught about the biblical prophets and marched for civil rights with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  I'll put up a page on this site next week about him; in the meantime there is much to read and a terrific recent program to listen to from public radio's "Speaking of Faith."

From now until Shavuot, I'm trying something out -- a weekly e-mail with a short passage from the writings of Rabbi Heschel.  Here is first sample for everyone.  If you are interested in subscribing and getting a weekly "electronic Heschel', send me a note with "Heschel" as the subject or the message by clicking here and I'll add you to the list.

A person cannot see the beauty of life unless he remembers that the Finite (Sof) and the Infinite (Ein Sof) kiss each other; that the One who is enthroned on high is concerned with all below.  We live always at one with eternity.  Eternal life has been planted in our midst.  A family table is an altar in our house...And the most common acts that a person does are compared in their importance to things which are eternal.  Judaism teaches us to view any injustice--robbery or violence--or human oppression as a major tragedy, and to feel divine joy at bringing happiness to a mortal.  One who curses a human is insulting his Maker, and one who loves others gives pleasure to God.

Every human being is a kind of reminder of God, and all things are like traces of God's footprints in a barren desert.  Through all the things in the world it is possible to come close to the Source.  It is incumbent upon us, as Jews, to imitate the footprints, and remove the veil from God, who is masked in the costume of the world.

--from "Pikuach Neshama: To Save a Soul"

Leaving our Personal Egypt

There is a common chasidic teaching that Mitzrayim, the Hebrew word for Egypt, is built on the root of tzar or "narrow."  Ancient Mitzrayim/Egypt was a narrow strip of settlement along the Nile.  In our own lives, Mitzrayim is the narrow place that we might feel in ourselves whenever we are stuck, constrained, or pressed into being who we are not.  Any reality or self-image we cannot seem to escape from, or any version of ourselves that someone else forces on us and traps us in.

Why is it so hard to escape, to "leave Egypt"?  Pharoah, in the chasidic understanding, is the name for that force or voice that says:  You cannot leave.  Pharoah is the voice of "decree", of the edict that defines things once and for all.  The letters of Pharoah in Hebrew are the same as the word para', which means to collect payment.  "Pharaoh" is the part of us that says:  Even if you don't like it, you owe me to be this way, to stay in this situation, to keep working and droning on the same as always.

Pharoah can point to the hard part of what is out there beyond Mitzrayim:  the seemingly uncrossable sea, the vast desert.  Why leave when that's what is waiting?

The going-out from Mitzrayim did not start until other voices came on the scene, voices of Moshe, Aharon, and Miryam who dared to suggest that Pharoah could be defeated.  We might look to the Exodus story for the confidence that there is another voice in our own mind or heart that says:  If I take a step forward in a new direction, the sea will part.  The desert will turn out to be a difficult place, true, but also a place of community and revelation.

Our individual Mitzrayim-s come in all sizes.  Big problems in our lives, in our relationships, in our health -- where the will to change may be one thing we need, though not the only thing.  But Mitzrayim can be on the micro level as well.  Bad habits, annoying patterns in important relationships, small ways of being inconsiderate -- these too "plague" us.  Each of us on Pesach is obligated to see how we are in Egypt, and to make an effort at the first step to go out -- not to let Pharoah's voice overpower that of Moshe, Aharon, and Miryam.

Chametz -- Rising Bread, Inflated Souls

The day before yesterday, I wore two unmatching shoes.

I left the house about 9:00 AM, toward a work day that did not end until 8:30 in the evening.  A little after 6:30, I was sitting and talking with a congregant when I looked down and noticed that I had on two different shoes.  I was horrified and self-conscious.  My thoughtful conversation partner, bless his soul, said, "I thought I was the only one who did that!"

My own thoughts included:  In seven-plus hours, how many people must have seen me today and noticed the shoes?  How foolish I must have looked!  How many people did they tell?  I can't even go home and fix this, I'm stuck looking ridiculous for a couple more hours.

But then I thought about a teaching about chametz and self-importance that I had shared on Shabbat:

Chametz -- bread that is leavened or risen -- is a symbol of haughtiness, self-importance.  Think of it this way:  If you start with just flour and water, then mix them together, the resulting dough takes up no more space that what you started with.  That's matzah, which represents humility and a sense of proportion.  Anything that rises is taking up more space than it really deserves.  So chasidic thought teaches us around Pesach that getting rid of chametz means breaking the pattern of puffing ourselves out, thinking we deserve more space than we really take up.

So I realized the best thing was to laugh at myself and move on.  After all, how many people really noticed?  I mean, are my shoes -- even if they are the rabbi's shoes -- really all that important in someone else's day?

Before Pesach begins, we are supposed to search for chametz in our homes and other spaces.  I think one way to apply the chasidic perspective is to go through all the places where we eat, and think about the conversations and relationships that take place there.  In the kitchen and dining room, that's obvious.  But we snack in the bedroom, or in the car while we talk on the cellphone, and we eat in our workplaces as well.

As we push our brooms or brush out crumbs, we should pause to think about who we're with in this place and how we act.  Am I puffed out?  Do I grandstand, show off, perform?  Or am I just right?

Purim: A User's Guide

Monday night is Purim!  I've learned over the years that there are two parts to Purim.  The second part is the celebration.  The first part can only be done beforehand -- thinking a bit about the holiday and the Book of Esther, the Megillah.

Here is Part I of my quick-and-dirty guide for getting ready.  Check back tomorrow for a short podcast.

First, read the Book of Esther!  It's pretty short.  You already know a lot of it, but you'll be surprised at some things that are different from what you learned in Sunday school.  Pay attention to ways in which the story and the setting are like our world.  For starters, the book is not set in Israel or in Egypt or in a desert -- but in a multiethnic empire where the Jews are intermixed with everyone else.  The book is a laugh, but try reading it once through without laughing for some of serious observations it makes.

While a lot of the Bible is good to read in a kind of thou-thee, King James-type translation -- not so good for the Megillah.  This is a story, and the best version for it would be the "new" Jewish Publication Society translation.  It's the one in the JPS Tanakh and in the Five Megillot and Jonah.  Unfortunately it's not on-line.  If you've found your way to mechon-mamre.org, what's there is the "old" JPS version.  It's a little somber but OK.

Second, there is the theme of hiding and masks.  I'll write more next Purim when I get a head start.  Esther's name is often taken to be related to the Hebrew root s-t-r, which means "hide."  Esther herself was hidden behind her Persian name -- think Ishtar, the goddess -- when had the beautiful Hebrew name Haddasah.  There's much to say about this...One fascinating exercise to do is called the Johari Window.  You can read about it on wikipedia.  Here is a quote to think about; I don't know the source:

The greater you are, the more you need to search for your self.  Your deep soul hides itself from consciousness...until finally your soul reveals itself to you, spangling a few sparkles of her lights.