A VISION OF G-D'S BRICKS

(This week's parsha contains one of the strangest "visions" of Hashem in the Torah. Moshe, Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel ascended the mountain… "and they saw the G-d of Israel; and under His feet was like sapphire brick-work and the likeness of shamayim for clearness… they beheld G-d, and ate and drank." In both of these psukim, there is a juxtaposition of a seemingly mundane aspect of existence (bricks, eating and drinking) with a description of "seeing" Hashem. Of course, a Jew understands that what the world calls "mundane" is only a lack of perception and kavannah, that working and meals can be a deep way of connecting to Hashem. Yet most often, we do get caught up in our appetites. Indeed, Rashi brings the opinion that the elders who ate and drank while "gazing" at Hashem did so arrogantly, insensitively. Anyway, the description of the vision is a much larger question; it is very brief, and the main detail of the vision seems to be that there are beautiful bricks below Hashem's "feet." Seemingly a fairly mundane and certainly queer picture. It goes without saying that there must be an ocean of explanations of the kabbalistic depths of this vision - yet the few words Rashi brings us reveal much in themselves. What were these "sapphire bricks" in Hashem's presence? Rashi tells us that Hashem, as it were, had placed them before Him during the slavery in Mizrayim, to remember the sufferings of Israel. Suddenly our vision of a serene image of Hashem is replaced with a stark reminder of the harshest realities of Jewish suffering in the world. This no longer sounds like a blissful encounter with the Almighty - it may be some comfort to know that G-d feels our pain, but there is no escaping the reality of suffering in this vision. Perhaps there is a reminder here that connecting to Hashem is not a spiritual "high," it does not come about through losing touch with the realities, even the most painful realities, of this world. Rather those very experiences are themselves "before Him" and we can approach G-d through our pain and weaknesses. Yet this brickwork being a stark reminder of Mizrayim is only half the story - the brickwork itself is shining and clear like the heavens! Why is this brick so beautiful? Rashi explains that when the Jews were redeemed from Mizrayim, there was joy and light before Him. This very brickwork, which had been dark, coarse and a source of suffering (both for us and as it were for Hashem) itself began to shine a brilliant light, to radiate joy. This is so important. This is salvation. What does it mean to ask G-d to save me? Why am I asking Him? First, because I realize that I am in pain, that I have a lack, an emptiness in me - I see the reality of my situation. And secondly, I recognize that I cannot save myself from this place. No slave ever escaped Egypt. So the first stage is that I place this difficult reality before my awareness, as Hashem did during the enslavement. But how can I take that very brick, that very point of pain, the source of the pain itself, and make it beautiful? Make it a source of joy? I don't know. The truth is I don't know. Only G-d knows the secret of how to make that very brick the source of joy, and light. Joy to keep going, to live more fully. Light to see more clearly in the future. To see the sparks hidden in the lowest places. To see that G-d is really in my life, in every aspect of my life. When I try to save myself, the best I can do is to make the brick go away - by forgetting, by filling in the emptiness with something fake. In the end the awareness comes back, of course, and I can choose again whether to forget or try to open up to Hashem, and trust that He can save us in the deepest way. In the way where I see that I needed to go through all the painful places, that they were truly, in a hidden way, sources of light and joy in my life. The bricks of Egypt, the place of tumah, impurity, become the building material for the Beis HaMikdash, the place of joy. The brick becomes "the like of Shamayim for Tohar." A last Rashi: "Tahor - this means Barur (clarified) and lucid." Clarification is a slow process, the struggle of a life's journey. Yet this is the only way to find the joy that is not merely in spite of tears, but because of them. May Hashem reveal to us the joy within all of our tears soon in our days. "When you take possession of a Hebrew slave, six years he will work and in the seventh he will go out liberated, at no charge. If in himself (with his body) he came, in himself he will go; if he came already with a wife, then with his wife he will leave. If his master gives him a wife and she bore to him sons or daughters, then the woman and her children will be to her master, and he will go out by himself. And if the slave should say, saying 'I love my master and my wife and my children; I will not go free,' then his master will bring him close to the judges (elokim), and will bring him close to the door or to the doorpost and his master will pierce through his ear with an awl, and he will serve forever. (Shemot 21:2-6)." The Ishbitzer writes that the word for "take possession," tikneh, can be rendered as "when you make tikkun, fixing." He brings down that Adam is sent into the world, in a sense, to make tikkun. He somehow sells himself into service for the crime he has committed. This entire parsha can be read as the soul selling itself into service in this world to make reparation for the sin of Adam. There is much to be done. The entire parsha is laden with words and symbols found in our collective unconscious - master and slave, man and woman, door, pit, animal, garments, fields, fires. Each sentence is a commandment to be enacted in the physical world as well as a deep insight into inter-personal, intra-personal and human-Divine relations. Neither side can be neglected. Perhaps we might gain by first understanding the deep insights into personhood and nationhood offered by the text so that we may then see how the plain-sense meaning, the laws being commanded, fit into that personhood and nationhood. When we come into this world to make reparation on ourselves and on the world, we may come in "with a wife," connected to our Divine souls, or without. Having a wife, as the Ohr HaChayim implies, is not owning in the sense of having gained for one's self. Rather, the opposite is true. Having a wife implies having devoted one's self to one's soul, providing her with food (knowledge) clothing (that through which to manifest - words, deeds, etc.) and intimacy (nullifying himself to be unified and identified with her), so that she may provide him with sons and daughters, meaning righteous deeds and words in the world. "That we will not come to be for naught, and were not born in vain." For one to feel like he has used his life wisely, he must be the humble servant of his soul, providing her with his energy and time. We might come in "married," aware of what we must do, how we must focus our efforts. In that sense, we come in unified and leave unified. There is also the reality of the man who comes in without a wife, disconnected. About him it is written "And if his Master gives him a wife, when he leaves the wife and her children will be to the Master." By Hashem's hesed He gives the man a pure soul, one that the man cannot connect to all of the time, cannot supply with sustenance, clothing, and intimacy. He grasps self-purpose only at peak moments through much effort and then falls again into not-knowing. Such a one is in constant struggle, but achieves shining moments with his hard work. She and the deeds they make together are for Hashem, they are beyond the man in a sense; one might say he is not on the level of feeling wholeness, but Hashem has tasks He needs him to do in this world, so he gives him to be an unknowing vessel for this shining soul. This is a gesture of love from Hashem - and perhaps it is possible through tireless effort to become attached to this soul. "And if the slave should say 'I love my master and my wife and my children and I do not want to go free'" - he loves Hashem, he loves his soul, he loves the righteous acts he is capable of doing in the world. Moshe brought us out on the morning of the giving of the Torah (we were late, like all good weddings), to bring us, the bride, together with Hashem. On that day, in Hashem's immeasurable love for us, he showed us our essence and purpose; He also showed us how much He loves us by giving us the Torah and letting us now how dear it is. It says in Pirkei Avot "Dear is Yisrael that they are called children of Hashem; even dearer was it that Hashem let them know that they are called children of Hashem. Dear is Yisrael that they were given a most enviable vessel (the Torah); even more dear are they that Hashem let them know that they received a most enviable vessel." We thank Hashem for this every day in ma'ariv "With a great love You have loved us… Torah and commandments…you have taught us." "I love my master and wife and children" - I want more of that love from Har Sinai, I want to feel it at every moment, I want to see purpose in myself, I want to be more intimate with my soul. We know that we cannot stand forever at Sinai. "And his master will bring him close to the elokim, judges" - at that moment when we profess our love Hashem brings us to a new way of feeling that love and purpose - the law. It does not at first feel like the love we had at Sinai. But Hashem is contained in the laws written in this parsha as much as He is contained in the 10 Big Ones. Rav Daniel said "Life is clal-prat-clal" meaning "generalization, details, generalization." The generalization was "I am Hashem" and "You shall have no other gods beside Me." The details are this parsha, "I am Hashem" expressed in the treatment of an animal, a fellow human being, liabilities, rights, justice. We must not consider it any less a proximity to Hashem. In studying and enacting these laws we are knowing and loving Hashem. At Sinai we are knowing and loving Hashem. In the enactment of justice, Hashem is present, as Ramban brings down "Elokim will be with them in the enactment of justice." At Sinai, Hashem is present. Our addiction to shiny lights and seeing voices must be outgrown (those days are over, boys). At Sinai Hashem showed us our purpose - and it was not to dig the light show. It was to know and love and enact the law that this world might be an appropriate dwelling place for His Glory. And this purpose resonated with the deepest reaches of our beings - we will do, and we will hear. With the law, Hashem gives us to be partners in creation. The word elokim is associated with judgement in the sense of enactment of justice - giving what is deserved or needed. Along with the powerful experience of Sinai, we were then given vessels through which to hold that experience and gestate it that it might grow into our consciousness. So, too, any life-changing experience is followed by a time of holding and processing, hammering out, understanding, extrapolating. This seems to us like a time of Hashem withholding from us - because we are expecting shiny-light-experience-#2 to follow immediately. But in reality Hashem has laid us down in green pastures, is surrounding us with the materials and opportunities needed to incorporate that flash into the whole of our beings. This is a groovy kind of love. Hashem does not want to have to show us tricks and miracles to get us to love Him - He would rather plant the seed in us and have us love Him as a result of our own processing of that seed, our own efforts in time. If our love is dependent on nature-bending miracles we will fall in and out (unless we see it all the time); if we love what Hashem loves, justice, we will want justice for ourselves as well as for Him, and will spare no effort to achieve it. And Hashem's love will shine through that justice; it will be a vessel to receive His Presence, as we say in prayer "The King who loves righteousness and justice." "And he will bring him close to the door or to the doorpost and pierce through his ear with an awl and he will serve forever" - the Moharal says that the ear is the opening to the mind. The slave is brought close to the door, which is the door of the House of Hashem, to guard it (as the Ba'al Ha'Torim says). Through the opening to the mind he guards the House of Hashem - by listening, the primary tool in enacting justice. He listens to what happens inside, the Torah and its laws. He listens to what happens outside, to the litigants, to the complaint of the poor man, the orphan and the widow. He listens to the mournful cry of the shechina in exile and expresses Her prayers to Hashem. He listens for the sound of the Great Shofar of redemption… (end)