Genesis Cycle Four Vayera

Vayera

And God appeared. This is how Vayera begins. It’s remarkable. Abraham is doing his Abraham-thing, fighting his battles, doing his lech lecha, yearning to be closer with God, building alters, even circumcising himself and now God appears. But where? In Talmud we see that He’s just there. Abraham though decides to focus on visitors who stand… netzavim… before him as he sits at the opening of his tent. In Talmud we also see that God is there in the shape and form of these visitors…or angels. Two interpretations. The same question. And that is: How close is God to Abraham that moment? What’s the God-quotient in that scene? If the radiance of God can be felt tangibly…so we know He has appeared (and this is what we are reading) …what’s the touch like? If the radiance is more intuitive what’s the vibrational-hum in Abraham’s heart? In our hearts? Do we want more? More than five or twenty or thirty per-cent intimacy? More depth of God-in-heart or is this one moment enough? And finally, given the raw facts, the circumcision, the heat of the day, the impending destruction of Sodom, how do we get close to God anyway?

This isn’t the first or last time we ask this question.

In fact, if we look closely at teachings the presence or distance of God is the crucial theme in Torah. All of Torah seems to be a blueprint to lead the community to the mystical experience…so mystical it isn’t just a flash…blip you’ve got it and blip it’s gone…but the status quo. In fact, if we look at the writings of the Sfat Emet and Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook… Torah doesn’t seem to lead us anywhere. Torah does just that. So...suddenly now how astonishing that God appears. After all…we’re just in Genesis. There are four more books. We can’t be there yet. Abraham can’t have already arrived. Did Noah arrive? Were Adam and Eve the first-ever shamans? Or is God going to become even more and more apparent? Is this visitor scene just one step in the Houdini trick that God likes to play on us…now we see but soon we will see more? This could be. If we look at Torah, it’s filled with signs and detours. It reminds me of a page in one of those puzzle books we would do on airplanes as kids…or at least some of us…before the ipod of course. We place the pencil down and try to get through a maze filled with dead ends and fast turns.

What I question is what are the signs that lead us to The Big Appearance or the revelation at the end of the maze? What, within our human experience can hint to us that we are on-track, that we are binding authentic appearance upon authentic appearance and that this construct, this structure, will eventually raise us to the Promised Land or, as the Ramchal says, will land the Third Temple right here in our backyard. How does each sign feel? How do we see them, guard them, remember them? And most important, how can we gage where we are on this journey?

The best way to analyze this in depth (in my opinion) is to study two moments in Vayera and how the culmination of that chain-of-events might compare to the death of Moses…which is known by sages as one of the most radical and starlit heavenly appearances in our tradition.

First though, who are we? What does this have to do with us, our worries, our likes and dislikes, our struggles, our grief, our joy? What does it have to do with heartbreak and laughter, our breath? Well, we get things done. There’s a clock on each of us. Therefore, we work to get human things done. We start our cars, go to work, eat lunch with a friend, come home, watch a movie or TV, complain about gas prices, volunteer at our child’s school, stay tuned-in with current events, clean the house, clean the house again, email, text, pay bills, see accidents on the side of the highway, pay the toll, follow our headlights. Most of us have our individual spiritual survival skills…yoga or walks in the woods, some form of art, spas and mineral springs, vacations, vipassana, kundalini, zen, sufi spinning and more. It’s exciting. Life is exciting. We are all reaching, whether we do it at Macy’s, in a crowded bar, in Saks Fifth Avenue or in our dreams. The rhythm of the world is fast, oh so fast and we need to race to pause. God in this structure seems fantastical, borderline unbelievable, a product of fantasy novels and gurus looking for followers. God (for some of us) feels like an advertisement, a catch phrase for all epiphanies, big and small, that may give us a small boost or a large catapult into a fleeting beyond-earthly state of mind.

Therefore, using our own day to day lives and experiences to zero-in to this closest of close is cutting ourselves short. We deserve to channel in to those intimacies beyond our own, to those step by step mergings of Abraham, for example, so that maybe we can understand a wee-bit the direction of the flow and process some miniscule piece of it. Why? Because it helps us to feel good. Torah is better than drugs. But also because after lifetimes these tiny pieces join and meld and…one day… we will even become what we are looking for. Yes, here it is right before us…the opportunity to become our goal, to become the climax and culmination of our very own spiritual saga.

So let’s focus-in on two of the main spiritual experiences…the building blocks…of this parsha Vayera which is, by the way, jammed packed with them. Let’s get back to and God appeared. I want to remind you that He appears while Abraham is healing from circumcision. In Genesis Rabbah the rabbis juxtapose this to Job 19:26. And when, after my skin is destroyed, then through my flesh shall I see God. What they are inferring is that one step of the path to God-vision is the covenant, the b’rit. No doubt, it isn’t the Job-like skin-destruction that brings about this intimacy…but the cutting of the metaphor on our hearts. The ability to actualize metaphor enables us to a certain extent to actualize God. This is because God is also in the realm of metaphor in that He is a word or a name symbolic of a power. The cutting away of all but the most radiant and vibrant piece of us…this action… raises our vibration to a level that is holy. And God appears. What I’m not saying is that circumcision is an automatic God-magnet. What I am saying is that in Torah with intention, the actualization of metaphor…and especially the metaphor of circumcision… can raise us real high. This is the mainstay of ritual. Think of the Shabbat candles, tashlich, the touching of the mezuzah, the tying of the tzittzit, the tefillen. But there’s more here. The Ba’al Shem Tov says of this visitation…of these men or these angels of God….that when a guest comes he brings Torah to the host. The issue of Torah revealed to the host is according to the guest.

So then, what is the issue brought to Abraham? Let’s remember here. Abraham is sick. These men are visiting the sick. And as the Talmudic rabbis say, God visits the sick and therefore we as well should visit the sick. The message clearly has to do with human behavior and compassion. But I want to expand on this. Abraham no doubt has been dedicating his being to trying to walk in God’s ways. Each trial seems to catapult him ten-fold. But how (asks Rabbi Hanna son of Rabbi Hanina) can a human…and Abraham is human.. walk after God if God (as we read in Deuteronomy) is a devouring fire? Ah, he says…we walk after the attributes of God. Suddenly, chesed and chen might be responsibilities but they now have become pinnacles of the human experience . So…. the action of compassion becomes a mystical action on the highest level in that it, itself, is the behavior resulting from a metaphor that leads us to the metaphor of God. Abraham who lives really in the esoteric plane can suddenly remain his esoteric self and take on qualities that are human-accessible. As for ourselves… we can be on the mountain but it is not as intimate as minute to minute compassion among our fellow human beings. This is the message.

The next experience I want to focus on…and this really is a candy store so I have to be highly discerning … is…when God calls to Abraham. So first Abraham is seeing. Now, just another one of those things in Torah, Abraham is hearing. And what does he hear? Lech lecha. Go into yourself. Take your son…your only son…your beloved son… Take that final heart-piece and bring him to me. Raise up not only that core of light within your soul but the soul-kiss of your own blood. Let it go. Hand it over. Give it up. Release. Submit. Use your knife. Sacrifice your son.

This is powerful stuff. My favorite teaching on the akeda is this: In a very matter of fact way…in a casual episode which is given less word-space then Noah’s ark for example…. Abraham is convinced that he has heard God. He gets everything ready, packs bags, gets the mules. Isaac, the boys. Then he walks a very long way to Mt Moriah and goes to the place of God’s choosing. All along he is thinking a lot. After all, this is the son with whom God blessed him at such a late age. What could this mean? Why could God want this? No doubt, in that era, children were sacrificed. It was a Canaanite practice. And he walks on. And walks on. Step after step. Heart beating. And thoughts pass through his head. It’s hot. His mind is split and it’s like there’s this hot furnace passing through the two parts. He is so immersed in the reality of the action and so ready that by the time he reaches the site…it’s as if the action has been done, as if once again the covenant has been cut. Abraham has internalized the sacrifice. He has transformed even the most extreme sacrifice into prayer. In this new thing that happens, metaphor suddenly takes a sharp second place in the mystical reward system to everyday human compassion. Our actions towards each other become more important than any offering-up at any temple in any given era. We only need to look at Isaiah for further development of this topic. But this is the message. This is the experience that we can reap from Abraham. If we look at the end of the akeda what happens? Abraham, in a very matter of fact way, returns to Beer sheva. The message about the importance of home, of course, is brought home.

Can we be there and feel it? Feel his angst? Not really. Can we feel his pain while he still greets his visitors? Not really. What we can do though is see that these events are not culminating face to face appearances from God. They are energies being sent his way, a strong light for him to follow. And each time his understanding becomes greater as he gets closer.

So now let’s look at Moses. His death is seen by Talmudic rabbis as an ultimate place of intimacy with God. We can’t even know where he’s buried. According to midrash…when people stand above the grave it appears to be below and when they stand below it appears to be above. Moses has arrived at the center, where the upper world meets the lower, where transmission merges with reception in one moment of flow. The reason why we can’t see him is because we’re just not there yet.

The real measure I think therefore of where we are on this path has to do with increments of healing. In other words, at that explosive moment when transmission and reception become one, when the light is therefore flowing out from our heart… this is our final goal. It’s not an impossible feat. And we do get there step by step. The reason why Torah is here is to let us know that it is possible. It just may take a while. Lifetimes in fact. So to measure where we are… we need to look at perceived time and space response. How fast does the perceived appearance of God result in behavior? How fast does God-transmission pass through a body so that transmission to the people is immediate? So that the word fast isn’t even a word anymore? So that the message is fluid, clean and clear?

Let’s look at God’s appearance to Abraham in 18:1. God visits. Abraham learns the importance of human compassion. And then there’s this perceived space between the visitation of the angels and the final agreement between God and Abraham concerning Sodom…..the application of the lesson learned. Let’s look at the akeda. God speaks to Abraham. Then there’s the perceived time leading to the actual sacrifice of the ram instead of Isaac.

What we need to focus on therefore…and work towards…is closing that space between reception and transmission. This space is the emptiness we sometimes feel no matter how many friends we may have. It is the emptiness in our souls that we don’t understand, that we try and fill with other people or try and explain away through arrogance. It’s the space that causes us to be needy, frightened, doubtful. Angry. Reactive. Negative. And all along the way to heal it is doing the opposite of what feels most comfortable…giving instead of taking, smiling instead of whining, raising others instead of putting them down, stepping forwards instead of hiding, shining light when in pain.

How do we apply this to today? When we learn something…when we get an opening of heart…do we say the words we feel? Or are we so shut off that we can’t? And if we do…how long does it take? A day? A minute? A year? The rest of our lives? When we bring in light…through meditation or prayer or sufi spinning or Saks Fifth Avenue…do we block it off and hold it back because we fear that we will be vulnerable? Or do we let the transmission flow to the person who happens to be on our path that moment…and who is therefore in need of it? If we hear God or see God in our dreams or our minds-eye…do we shrug off the vision with doubt or accept the words and (within reason) act with faith? Do we release and submit ourselves as vessels of God or is it just too threatening? Is it ever enough? When we recite the Sh’ma are we focusing on experiencing the immediate transmission/reception of God through Moses on Mt Sinai or are we just saying it because everyone else is?

Are we really going for it in the heavens and at home? Some of us are…and it is both ugly and beautiful. And that’s just the way it is.

As Allen Ginsburg writes:

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

Dragging themselves through the streets at dawn looking for an angry fix

Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night…

Who bared their brains to heaven under the El and saw angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated

Who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall

Who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borscht and tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom.

What is being close to God? It is being right here right now and bringing that light down to what is clearly a place in need….in the form of humanity, whether we like it or not. It is trying endlessly to slide that light right into the material all around us…as soon as we receive it…

So, may we be human. May we be so human it hurts. May we mold the world with compassion and keep our eye on that distant grave of Moses…on that fast flash of transmission and reception… even if we can’t see it. May we know our beauty and may we cut the holiest of covenants to bring that beauty in our hearts to the whole community. May we know who we are.