Shuvoo Newsletter

Issue 13 – April 20^th, 2006

 

Thoughts on Ancient Times & Current Events by Ashirah Yosefah

 

 

INSIDE OUT & EMPTYING OUT

Reflections on Pesach

 

On Erev Chag Pesach, a couple in Baka works together at the kli (vessel) mikveh,

immersing their dishes, pots and pans in order to prepare them for use during Pesach.

© Ashirah Yosefah Photo 2006

 

 

On Erev Chag (the day before Pesach), I walked about the streets of Jerusalem marveling yet again at the way this finite physical universe constantly reflects the spiritual realities in the heavenly realms.  All over the city, a process of emptying out, cleaning out, purifying and preparing was taking place.  Even the restaurants joined in:  On the morning of Erev Chag, three restaurants within two blocks of me had ‘spilled their innards’ onto the sidewalks overnight.  All three had been gutted, stripped to the bare walls, and construction crews had moved in to perform a Pesach transformation.  When Pesach ends later this week, the following day will dawn with three newly renovated restaurants opening their doors.  Please G-d, may we each reflect such a transformation in our own lives.

 

The month leading up to Pesach and the month of Nissan itself are about purification and transformation … renewal of the Land and a person’s fear and awe of Hashem.

Leading up to Pesach, we have four special Shabbatot on which we read four special Parasha portions, each highly significant:  Parasha Shekalim, Parasha Zachor, Parasha Parah and Parash Ha’chodesh. 

 

Moshe A. Braun in his book, The Jewish Holy Days, pp. 283, comments on these four special Shabbatot as follows:

 

“It is written, ‘Thus spoke G-d, let not the wise man boast of his wisdom, nor the valiant of his valor, let not the rich man boast of his riches; but if any man would boast, let him boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, for that is what I desire, For I am G-d.’ (Jeremiah 9:23)

 

The Midrash comments:  G-d gave three gifts to mankind:  wisdom, strength and riches.  If a man thinks that the gifts belong to him, then he loses them.  But if he recognizes them as coming from G-d, then he will possess them in full measure. (Numbers Rabbah 22:6).

 

These three gifts are alluded to in the four Torah portions that we read before Passover.  The portion of Shekalim speaks about giving coins for the holy work in the Tabernacle.  It is as if we are giving the coins back to G-d.  This act of charity makes us realize that riches are not ours, but rather a gift from G-d.  We then read the portion of Zachor, of how we fought with Amalek.  It reminds us that our strength in war is not ours either, but rather comes from G-d.  Then when we read the portion of Parah Adumah, the Red Cow, we learn of a decree that we cannot understand.  We realize that our wisdom is also not ours, but is from G-d.  When we realize that whatever we possession is from G-d, we are ready for real life and renewal.

 

Therefore, after the three portions mentioned above we read the fourth, Parasha Ha’chodesh.  This tells us that the new moon of Nissan is about to appear and our redemption is at hand.

 

We, too, in our lives, must first give everything ‘back’ to G-d. Then in return we will receive the thing that we want most of all:  new live and vitality.”

 

In the Garden of Eden, there were two trees:  the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge.  One tends to think that knowledge is a good thing; obviously Adam and Chavah were convinced by the Serpent that this was so, but it’s not so much the nature of knowledge itself, but what we do with it.  The Tree of Life enabled one to discern good and evil clearly, as polar opposites, clearly distinguishable as a choice between “life” and “death” … physical and spiritual.  The Tree of Knowledge, on the other hand, allows one to experience life in all its facets and one must draw upon their knowledge to make the distinction between good and evil.  Prior to eating of the Tree of Knowledge, Adam and Chavah could distinguish clearly between good and evil, but once they chose to partake of the Tree of Knowledge confusion set it.  Good and evil were no longer discernable as polar opposites to them and from that point on mankind has had to seek, ponder, sort and find the good and evil in each thing.  Likewise, confusion beset the good land Hashem had given man.  Instead of producing naturally and abundantly, the earth produced a confusion of edibles mixed with thorns and briars and man was consigned to work the land by the sweat of his brow.

 

Moshe A. Braun comments that chametz is symbolic of confusion:  “It seems full and risen, although its weight does not change, it seems a good deal bigger and more substantial.  It is like the Tree of Knowledge.  Matzah, on the other hand, is what it appears to be.  It is flat and has no more dough than what is seen.  It is like the Tree of Life.”

 

Therefore, as we rid our homes of chametz in preparation for Pesach, we also endeavor to seek, find and root out the chametz in our relationships with Hashem, others and ourselves.  Success in doing so will bring purification and renewal, clearing confusion out of our lives.  In fact, Chazal tell us that the bringing of the Omer offering repairs the confusion of the land.  The Sefirat haOmer (Counting of the Omer) provides a tikkun for the confusion in our lives.   We began the count on the eve of the second day of Chag haMatzot.  Day by day for seven weeks we lift up an ‘omer’ of our lives to Hashem, realizing that the entirety of our sustenance comes from Him and must be elevated in this world and returned to Him through guarding the mitzvoth of the Torah.

 

Let’s return to Erev Chag for a bit to recapture the feeling that prevails in Jerusalem as Pesach draws near.  The air that sunny, warm morning of the 14^th day of Nissan was filled with smoke.  All over the city, fires were burning and “chametz”, both physical and spiritual was being consumed by fire, burnt offerings to Hashem, as people stood by contemplatively watching as the last vestiges of chametz remaining in their homes after the Pesach cleaning went up in smoke.  Together with those tangible morsels of leavened food went the leaven of wrong thoughts, emotions, attitudes, actions.

 

People gather at a communal chametz fire in Moshavah Germanit on Erev Chag

as smoke from burning chametz wafts through the air.

© Ashirah Yosefah Photo 2006

 

True confessions?  Hashem gave me a bit of an abject lesson in searching for chametz this year.  Earlier in the day I had carefully taken the last remaining loaf of bread in my apartment and cut ten cubes of bread to place in various locations for the bedikat chametz search that evening.  I counted them … 1, 2, 3, 4, and so on until I reached 10, then I gathered up all the remaining bread and crumbs and took them to the garbage bin outside on the street.  Later in the day, I placed the cubes of bread throughout my apartment.  That evening, as I prepared to begin the search for chametz, I smiled to myself at the instructions in my Siddur: “One is to search by candlelight in all hidden places, even cracks in the floor.”  Somehow I could not see myself getting on my hands and knees on the floor … after all, I knew where my chametz was.  Wrong.  Shutting off the lights, I lit my candle and commenced my search, moving easily throughout the apartment gathering up cubes of bread and searching for any remaining crumbs.  Then I counted the cubes in my tray.  1, 2, 3, 4, and so on until … nine?!?!  What happened to the tenth?!  It was not long until I found myself on my hands and knees, methodically moving throughout my apartment, looking under chairs, tables and along the cracks in the tile floor for the missing piece of bread.  It never did turn up … not even after I finally turned on the lights and searched yet again.  Somehow I must have gathered it up with the loaf of bread in error and disposed of it earlier in the day, but what a lesson!  We can never take ‘chametz’ for granted … it hides itself very well!

 

Then came Pesach and Leil Seder (Seder Night).  The shuls were standing room only as strains of Hallel rang out into an unseasonably warm and balmy spring evening.  Seder tables, ringed with people, were laden with Haggadot, Matzot, Maror, Wine and Charoset.  Thirty-five people were at the Seder table to which I had been invited.  Accents from Australia, South Africa, America, Canada, Africa and Israel flavored the Haggadah reading and the Seder songs.  It was a memorable evening spent recalling that first night of freedom, that spectacular moment of direct Divine intervention in the collective life of a nation in the making.  At 2:00 am, the Seder wound to a close.  Leaving the home at 2:15, I pondered a bit about the 25 minute walk ahead of me.  I am quite used to walking home alone close to midnight after Shabbat dinners, but walking home alone at 2:15 am?  Never fear.  This is Jerusalem.  The sights that I encountered en route to my home were nearly as memorable as the Seder itself:  The streets were full of people, families of all ages from very young to very old, slowly winding their way home after Seders, happy conversations filling the air and refrains of “Chag Sameach” being exchanged with each new encounter.  Celebrating the Chagim in Jerusalem is unique above and beyond any other place on earth … how could it not be so?  This is the one place where Hashem has chosen to place His Name.

 

As I walked home on Leil Seder, a full moon glowed in the cloudless sky above.  King Solomon once wrote, “Who is that who looks out like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, majestic as the starry heavens?” (Shir haShirim 6:10)

 

Shir haShirim (the Song of Songs) is intimately interwoven into Pesach observances and is chanted in shul before the Torah reading on the Shabbat which occurs during Chol haMoed.  Chazal tell us that Solomon wrote this song, described as “the Holy of Holies” by Rabbi Akiva, on the day of the dedication of the Temple.  It is a masterful allegory of the special relationship between Hashem and Israel, written in powerful and deeply esoteric allegory, and not to be taken in the peshat (literal) context.  One can study it endlessly and still find new nuances.  It is the ninth of the ten songs of the Universe.  The tenth song will be the song Israel will sing on her future Redemption, may that day hasten upon us.  Tomorrow, on the 7^th day of Chag haMatzot, we will remember the second song of the Universe, Shirat haYam (the Song of the Sea), sung by Moses and the Israelites after they experienced the miracle of the parting of the sea.  Each Shabbat we sing the first song, Tehillim 92, a song for the Sabbath day, composed by Adam to commemorate the completion of Creation and the gift of Shabbat.

 

Rabbi Yosef Jacobson, during a drasha he gave at a Carlebach shul in Manhatten one Shabbat in March 2003, spoke about Torah as the ultimate symphony of the Universe and that we are each notes in that symphony.  Without us playing our individual note, on key, the symphony is not complete.  Israel has a melody to sing and so do the nations, the notes for both are encompassed within the Torah. 

 

It was 3318 years ago that the Creator of the Universe reached down and extracted a people from physical and spiritual slavery, drawing them after Him into a wilderness with power and miracles, forming them into a nation of His choosing, designating them a kingdom of priests and a light unto nations.  Israel became a candle.  The candle does not glow without a flame, so Hashem provided the fire at Sinai, the Torah.  Israel is to infuse darkness with light.  G-d promised Avraham that his descendents would be as numerous as the stars of the sky … glowing in darkness.  Just as Hashem renews Creation every day, this power of renewal is available to each of us through Torah, especially during this month of Nissan, when every slave of darkness is able to become free, and every creature can be renewed.

 

Chag Sameach from Jerusalem.