LOVE CAN CARRY US THROUGH
Yom Kippur - Day 1 (morning drash)
“U’Teshuvah, U’Tefillah, U’Tzedakah, ma'avirin et roa hagezerah - spiritual return, self-reflection, and righteous acts avert the evil of the decree.” We just declared these words a few minutes ago. But is this true? Is the culminating line of one of the most powerful prayers that we ever recite a reflection of reality, or a spiritual fairy tale that we tell ourselves? Can anything change the decree? We know that in the coming year, there will be challenge, pain, sadness, illness, death and loss. No one will be getting out of this world alive; everything and everyone alive is destined to one day die. Shouldn’t we be spending these moments in hedonistic pursuits rather than in crowded sanctuaries reciting words of confession and prayer?
No, we should not. When we understand what these words mean we can begin to truly understand the power of this day. It is a day when our lives hang in the balance, we are judged as we pass sentence on ourselves. It is a day when we can write ourselves into the book of life, a good life that is worth living, a life of meaning, connection, holiness and purpose.
On Rosh HaShana we explored Assiyah, the kabbalistic realm of physical creation, and Yetzirah, the world of emotional formation that is at the heart of community. Last night I spoke about Briah: the world of the mind and intellectual creativity. Now let us speak about the highest of the four mystical worlds: Atzilut, spiritual nearness. While the physical world may sometimes feel like the farthest from God, we all know how nature can inspire with beauty and grandeur. The world of physicality is a shell that conceals the depth of meaning. The emotional world is certainly a way to connect with God by connecting with others. When we lead with compassion we reach out to others and are touched. The world of wisdom is assuredly a place where we can find meaning and holiness. We can find God in the ancient words of Torah or in the realizations about ourselves that are the center of spiritual renewal. But how do we find God in the spiritual realm? How do we leave the physical, emotional, and intellectual planes that we live on to ascend to heaven? Is this even safe to do; would we ever come back from such a journey?
The Talmud tells a bizarre story of four gifted rabbis from the 1st century who attempted to enter the place, the dimension of Atzilut, divine emanation: “Four [Sages] entered the Pardes [literally "the orchard”]. They were Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher [Elisha ben Abuya, called “Acher, the other one”, because of what happened to him after he entered the Pardes] and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva said to them [prior to their ascension]: "When you come to the place of pure marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' for it is said, 'He who speaks untruths shall not stand before My eyes' (Psalms 101:7)." Ben Azzai gazed [at the Divine Presence (Rashi)] and died. Regarding him the verse states, "Precious in the eyes of God is the death of God’s pious ones" (Psalms 116:15). Ben Zoma gazed and was harmed [he lost his sanity (Rashi)]. Regarding him the verse states, "Did you find honey? Eat only as much as you need, lest you be overfilled and vomit it up" (Proverbs 25:16). Acher cut down the plantings, [he became a heretic]. [Only] Rabbi Akiva entered in peace and left in peace.” (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Chagiga, page 14b)
What is the point of this story? That such a journey, from earth to heaven, is possible, but it is extremely dangerous. Finding God is not hard, returning from such a direct encounter intact is the challenge. Indiana Jones in the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark says it well, with his hands on a revolver: “You want to talk to God? Let's go see him together, I've got nothing better to do.” We believe, as Jews, that when we die our souls continue to exist and merge with the life force of the universe. We become one with God, with the Oneness of the universe. The Talmudic tale is explaining a field trip that the four rabbis tried to take to God while they were still alive. Rabbi Akiva was their guide and instructed how to behave and what not to say. They entered the Pardes, the orchard. From this Hebrew word we get the English word paradise. They entered Paradise, they came into heaven, they saw the divine presence. Ben Azzai died - his body was not able to withstand the experience. Ben Zoma went crazy - his mind could not withstand the experience and he was never again fully on this earth afterwards. Elisha ben Abuya became a heretic, he entered God’s garden and mutilated the plants - his spiritual beliefs were not able to withstand the experience, and he was the only Talmudic rabbi to ever become a heretic. Only Rabbi Akiva, their guide, left with his body, his brain, and his beliefs intact. Such a journey is possible. Kabbalah might contain the routes to ascend to a direct experience of God, but it can be a very dangerous quest. If three of our great sages could not withstand the challenges, perhaps we are not able to experience God directly in this life.
Thankfully we have Jewish paths to ultimate meaning and connection that are less risky. We might not be able to fully know the infinite Creator of an ever-expanding universe, but we can sense God’s power and beauty in nature and in our lives. We will probably never understand how the universe really fully works, but we can be kind to the stranger for we were strangers in a strange land, and through compassion, come to know the true depths of our heart and the human capacity for kindness. We may never know God’s essence in this world, but through study and self-improvement, we can encounter ideas that help us grow and become who we are meant to be. We can hear the whisper of the still small voice when we study Torah. And we can even sense the domain of Atzilut, divine closeness, even if we can’t go there as Rabbi Akiva did. If we can’t ascend to heaven while we are alive, perhaps we can pull it down closer to us.
Atzilut means nearness. It comes from the Hebrew word Atzel (Alef, Tzadi, Lamed) which means “at the side of, beside, close to, near”. We can’t see God, the divine is beyond all form. We can’t fully know God, the place of the divine is infinite. We can’t understand God, but we can sense holiness, connection, meaning next to us, besides us, close to us, near us. The word Atzel reminds me of a different Hebrew word that might be related, Tzail (Tzadi Lamed), which means “shadow, shelter, protection, and transitoriness”. Our physical, emotional and intellectual universes are besides God’s; we live in the shadow of God’s presence, we are sheltered by God’s protection, and the spiritual world is always adjacent to and close by our experiences when we open to a greater perspective.
When I ask people when they have felt God’s presence, the answer that I have heard the most is as the birth of a child and at the passing of a loved one. We can experience God, which for me is connection and meaning, in the life and death moments that define who we are. Rabbi Dovid Zeller of blessed memory taught that in Judaism, the peak experience is a quick peek. When we ascend the mountain of God, we might be given a glimpse of what is beyond the veil. Below and above and within this world of physical experiences, emotional connections, and intellectual meaning, is a reality where all is Oneness. When we witness a new life being brought into the world, and when we accompany a loved one on their final journey in this life, we are perceiving that life is not just an endless list of errands to do, it is itself a divine experience, a sacred gift. These moments take our breath away: as a new life cries and begins to breathe, and a loved one takes that last breath and we cry. Time stands still in such moments, all other thoughts fade away, we are hit by a powerful tornado of joy, grief, comfort, confusion, gratitude, excitement, or paralysis. We are in the shadow of God.
To be continued...
No, we should not. When we understand what these words mean we can begin to truly understand the power of this day. It is a day when our lives hang in the balance, we are judged as we pass sentence on ourselves. It is a day when we can write ourselves into the book of life, a good life that is worth living, a life of meaning, connection, holiness and purpose.
On Rosh HaShana we explored Assiyah, the kabbalistic realm of physical creation, and Yetzirah, the world of emotional formation that is at the heart of community. Last night I spoke about Briah: the world of the mind and intellectual creativity. Now let us speak about the highest of the four mystical worlds: Atzilut, spiritual nearness. While the physical world may sometimes feel like the farthest from God, we all know how nature can inspire with beauty and grandeur. The world of physicality is a shell that conceals the depth of meaning. The emotional world is certainly a way to connect with God by connecting with others. When we lead with compassion we reach out to others and are touched. The world of wisdom is assuredly a place where we can find meaning and holiness. We can find God in the ancient words of Torah or in the realizations about ourselves that are the center of spiritual renewal. But how do we find God in the spiritual realm? How do we leave the physical, emotional, and intellectual planes that we live on to ascend to heaven? Is this even safe to do; would we ever come back from such a journey?
The Talmud tells a bizarre story of four gifted rabbis from the 1st century who attempted to enter the place, the dimension of Atzilut, divine emanation: “Four [Sages] entered the Pardes [literally "the orchard”]. They were Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher [Elisha ben Abuya, called “Acher, the other one”, because of what happened to him after he entered the Pardes] and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva said to them [prior to their ascension]: "When you come to the place of pure marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' for it is said, 'He who speaks untruths shall not stand before My eyes' (Psalms 101:7)." Ben Azzai gazed [at the Divine Presence (Rashi)] and died. Regarding him the verse states, "Precious in the eyes of God is the death of God’s pious ones" (Psalms 116:15). Ben Zoma gazed and was harmed [he lost his sanity (Rashi)]. Regarding him the verse states, "Did you find honey? Eat only as much as you need, lest you be overfilled and vomit it up" (Proverbs 25:16). Acher cut down the plantings, [he became a heretic]. [Only] Rabbi Akiva entered in peace and left in peace.” (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Chagiga, page 14b)
What is the point of this story? That such a journey, from earth to heaven, is possible, but it is extremely dangerous. Finding God is not hard, returning from such a direct encounter intact is the challenge. Indiana Jones in the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark says it well, with his hands on a revolver: “You want to talk to God? Let's go see him together, I've got nothing better to do.” We believe, as Jews, that when we die our souls continue to exist and merge with the life force of the universe. We become one with God, with the Oneness of the universe. The Talmudic tale is explaining a field trip that the four rabbis tried to take to God while they were still alive. Rabbi Akiva was their guide and instructed how to behave and what not to say. They entered the Pardes, the orchard. From this Hebrew word we get the English word paradise. They entered Paradise, they came into heaven, they saw the divine presence. Ben Azzai died - his body was not able to withstand the experience. Ben Zoma went crazy - his mind could not withstand the experience and he was never again fully on this earth afterwards. Elisha ben Abuya became a heretic, he entered God’s garden and mutilated the plants - his spiritual beliefs were not able to withstand the experience, and he was the only Talmudic rabbi to ever become a heretic. Only Rabbi Akiva, their guide, left with his body, his brain, and his beliefs intact. Such a journey is possible. Kabbalah might contain the routes to ascend to a direct experience of God, but it can be a very dangerous quest. If three of our great sages could not withstand the challenges, perhaps we are not able to experience God directly in this life.
Thankfully we have Jewish paths to ultimate meaning and connection that are less risky. We might not be able to fully know the infinite Creator of an ever-expanding universe, but we can sense God’s power and beauty in nature and in our lives. We will probably never understand how the universe really fully works, but we can be kind to the stranger for we were strangers in a strange land, and through compassion, come to know the true depths of our heart and the human capacity for kindness. We may never know God’s essence in this world, but through study and self-improvement, we can encounter ideas that help us grow and become who we are meant to be. We can hear the whisper of the still small voice when we study Torah. And we can even sense the domain of Atzilut, divine closeness, even if we can’t go there as Rabbi Akiva did. If we can’t ascend to heaven while we are alive, perhaps we can pull it down closer to us.
Atzilut means nearness. It comes from the Hebrew word Atzel (Alef, Tzadi, Lamed) which means “at the side of, beside, close to, near”. We can’t see God, the divine is beyond all form. We can’t fully know God, the place of the divine is infinite. We can’t understand God, but we can sense holiness, connection, meaning next to us, besides us, close to us, near us. The word Atzel reminds me of a different Hebrew word that might be related, Tzail (Tzadi Lamed), which means “shadow, shelter, protection, and transitoriness”. Our physical, emotional and intellectual universes are besides God’s; we live in the shadow of God’s presence, we are sheltered by God’s protection, and the spiritual world is always adjacent to and close by our experiences when we open to a greater perspective.
When I ask people when they have felt God’s presence, the answer that I have heard the most is as the birth of a child and at the passing of a loved one. We can experience God, which for me is connection and meaning, in the life and death moments that define who we are. Rabbi Dovid Zeller of blessed memory taught that in Judaism, the peak experience is a quick peek. When we ascend the mountain of God, we might be given a glimpse of what is beyond the veil. Below and above and within this world of physical experiences, emotional connections, and intellectual meaning, is a reality where all is Oneness. When we witness a new life being brought into the world, and when we accompany a loved one on their final journey in this life, we are perceiving that life is not just an endless list of errands to do, it is itself a divine experience, a sacred gift. These moments take our breath away: as a new life cries and begins to breathe, and a loved one takes that last breath and we cry. Time stands still in such moments, all other thoughts fade away, we are hit by a powerful tornado of joy, grief, comfort, confusion, gratitude, excitement, or paralysis. We are in the shadow of God.
To be continued...