“And behold, a well in the field… and the rock was large on the mouth of the well” – we are each the well, as it says (Shir Hashirim 4:15) “A fountain of gardens, well of living waters.” In the field of human interaction (and beyond) we are each a well of living waters, fully capable of nourishing our gardens and others’ gardens. Our souls rooted in the Living G-d, there is no limit to the depth of the waters that can be drawn from us. Unfortunately, due to high levels of unawareness and unrealized potential we often end up stopping up our own wells; not only are we the well, we are also the large stone on top of the well, as it says in Shir Hashirim (4:12) “A garden enclosed is my sister, my bride; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.” Let us discuss the nature of these waters that we are wells through which the water may be drawn, and further how is it possible that we are the stone atop our very selves, and beyond that what we might do to remove that stone.
“And Ya’akov awoke from his sleep and said ‘Surely Hashem is in this place, and I knew it not.’” The beginning of the passuk reads, in Hebrew, “Va’yiikatz Yaakov Mishnato.” On one level this means “and he awoke from his sleep”. Another pshat, reading is “And Ya’akov finished his mishneh” meaning he concluded his mishneh-Torah. Maimonedes writes in The Laws of Kings (and the question must be begged how laws of kings apply to you and I) (Chapter 3:1) “At the time when the king sits on his throne, he writes for himself a Torah scroll in addition to the one his father gave him.” Rambam also writes that the first stays in his home, while the second “moves before him (me’lifanav) except the times when he goes to the bathroom or the bath-house or other places where it is not appropriate. He goes out to war, and it goes with him. He comes back, it goes with him. He sits in judgement and it is with him. He gets married and it is in front of him as it says ‘and it will be with him and he will read it all the days of his life’.” There are at least two ways of interpreting the commandment to write a second, Mishneh, Torah. One is to write the Books of Moses. The other is to write your interpretation of the Books of Moses. This is what the Rambam him self did. What he called the Mishneh Torah is his interpretation of the Torah – though he might tell you that it is pshat. And it is – to him. And you, you have your pshat of the Torah which doesn’t seem like interpretation at all, but rather the obvious, literal meaning. This is such a blessing – (on most levels) we are all quite different. Our attitudes and opinions are not external to us, but are the very definition of our earth-bound selves (not to say attitides and opinions are not negotiable). We read Moshe’s books, and Moshe’s Mishneh Torah (as the last book, Devarim, is sometimes called) and other people’s Mishnei Torah, like Rashi and The Ishbitzer, and we hope that they will infuse our personalities and attitudes. Our personal Mishneh Torah is slowly written and rewritten by our very souls as we go, like it or not. And it is this Mishneh Torah that we take out with us into battle, that we bring back home with us, when we sit in judgement, when we are married (though interestingly the Rambam writes it should be negdo, in front of him, when he is married [which we hope to discuss later]). We are not such saints that we should be walking embodiments of Moshe’s Torah as it is written – and I am not sure we should be. Rather we should each have a Torah that is in our language, is accessible to us, one written by us which, at the same time, can teach us. Like I said, we have all been writing this Torah our whole lives, the rules by which we will govern ourselves in battle, in love, in judgement, etc. Unfortunately, it is quite possible to keep writing and writing, never going back to check what we wrote before, which is still there!! We must constantly be self-edited – are my rules of battle really what I feel? Must I use anger/sarcasm/passive-aggression/childishness to prove my point? Am I out to slaughter anyone else who claims to have any sovreignty? My rules of love – am I still based on childish self-love, or expecting total selfless mother-love? Have I determined that I could only love a certain type in a certain way? And the flip-side – have I copied someone else’s rules of G-d-love and other-love and not
tapped into my own unique way of loving? So too in judgement – am I operating on opinions and understandings that entirely mine and not applicable to the world-at-large? If possible we must read our own Mishnei-Torah often and deeply, constantly editing and reevaluating. This is a liquid book.
As we mentioned, the Rambam says when the king is married his Torah should be “in front of him”. He lets go of it for a moment, and lets another read and edit. And he is vulnerable. Maybe his future wife thinks he is pretty much alright with a couple of exceptions – he is too overbearing in his love, he must redact his laws of personal hygiene, etc. This is the transformative moment – for she will dig deeply into him, and he into her, forcing each other to reread, reevaluate. Blessed is this work!! Sometimes we need another to read from us, to draw from our own well for us to see the nature of our own waters.
Should we wait until we are about to be married to do this work? We may begin now, with each other. We may invite each other in to read, to offer, to respond. The rock on top of the well can (and should) be read many different ways. One such way is that it is fear – fear of hearing that we must reevaluate, fear of the opinion of another, fear of the light of truth shed on old habits. Unlike Avraham’s wells into which the Plishtim kicked dirt to seal it up, we keep our own wells corked up. And when they are opened we put the rock right back on, every time. Is there a way to leave it open? One way is to give someone else the key, and let them use it.