Exodus - Cycle One - 3011-3435 - Ki Thisa

You can almost touch God, feel the breath, taste the light, the perfume rubbed into your skin, the love flowing like sparks from your heart. You are so close you want to cry and let tears become gems on the crown of your bride, feel your lips of truth (Zohar), feel hers, let your silence wrap seven times around her, your words link with ecstasy. So close.

I am making you holy, says God (31‐13) You can almost become the delight and joy of the Holy One (Midrash), become the white fire rising, the pintel yid growing into a God shadow at the break of dawn. Yes, a God shadow, breathtaking, a brilliance framed around your spark, a bolt of lightning bordered by red and gold gems . There you are, almost enlightened. Soon you will not be you anymore. You will live in the sigh of merging here on earth. You will become one eternal Shabbat, your soul regained through eternal rest (Rashi)… So close.

Then zap. It’s gone. You look up for a second (all right forty days and nights) and you’re slammed. It doesn’t matter who messed up. Someone did. Many did. Maybe Aaron did. That’s up for discussion. The truth is you feel devastated, exhausted, foolish as if your soul has been pounded not into the gilded calf but into some donkey, hopefully not the one that gets beheaded in 34‐20.

As explained by Sfas Emes (Days of Awe p138) we can linguistically connect the Hebrew word donkey (chamor) to the word material actions (chamriyot). So, we’re all pre‐ tzaddicks and suddenly donkeys of idolatry. And it happens so fast you want to cry but that takes time. So you must do a hard cry, a one second lament, push the human instinct out. Perhaps you break something. One thing you know, you have to act fast to fix the mess. You don’t want to lose one divine spark, one half shekel. You don’t want Torah to fade, God to fade.

This is Ki Thisa. We are almost back in Eden. The bride of Torah is almost in our arms. Aaron (possibly to procrastinate) collects the jewelry unloaded by the Israelites, throws it in the fire and out comes the gilded calf. Problem is, we aren’t there yet. And it’s taken centuries of hard work to even come this far. You would think we would have learned a little self restraint. Where’s self restraint though when boys in Queens are stealing hubcaps to feed their families and people are drinking fine wines at functions for the needy? When the bombs are flying and the credit cards multiplying and our society is filled with complaints and moaning? When a man is dying of Aids in a country that can’t afford the pharmaceuticals? Where’s self restraint when we can’t see that the washing of our hands and feet means purification? That our souls are each the same half shekel (whole when merged with God)?

Where’s Torah when the same half shekel (or thirty dollars for example) is used to give preference to the wealthy? When one line of Torah is twisted and our actions go against all mitzvot concerning the poor? When the anointing oil can’t be what follows from his existence (divine sparks) but vanity? Where’s love when we can’t look beyond our donkey‐selves? When we not only turn our souls…our gold….into idols but bow to them as well? Where’s Torah when love becomes one man’s clinging not to God but to himself? Where’s true joy?

No wonder Moses breaks the tablets.

First though God says get moving and hurry down from this mountain (Devarim 9‐12). Get moving. God also says…Now get moving and cross the Zered Brook (Devarim 2‐13). Yes you have suffered. There have been snakes, drought, illness. There is the suffering of being almost there, of our own donkey actions. And while it has been said that Moses breaks the tablets because the Torah can’t be shared with aliens, I believe the suddenness with all its drama and displayed anger is a holy action…brave, consolidated, focused and restrained.

What if (instead) Moses became angry and cried for forty days and nights? What if he was stressed out, on meds and really zen? He would not have gotten moving to fix the mess. So, he does three things. First, he teaches. He makes the stiff necked people drink the ashes of the calf. The fine line between God and an idol (it seems) is this: If you imbibe one you are enlightened. If you imbibe the other you get sick. Then, he validates the sanctity of Aaron, the priest. Finally he orders the idolatrous killed and honors (the Levites) who do the killing.

Moses then quickly returns to God. The immediacy allows him to enter more gateways, to not only listen but to praise compassion and mercy, to act on those attributes. Moses asks why, oh Lord? Is anyone jealous/angry of another except a wise man of a wise man or a strong man of a strong man? (Rashi) No wonder his face shines so he has to hide it under a hood.

Finally, God tells Moses to move on and lead the people to the land of milk and honey. The purpose of all this? With teshuvah our commitment becomes more binding, more intense. With this teshuvah we receive the thirteen attributes. The problem is that God says this sin will always be taken into account. Therefore, all of our wrong doings reflect on this one. The path to Gan Eden is clearly not a short one.

So, may we grieve fast so we can move on to heal and teach. May we remember Gan Eden. May we be slow to anger (but display it with focus and restraint when necessary). May we find compassion and love even with our failings. May we be grateful that we are given another chance and show mercy as we forgive. May we be radiant with kindness, patience and true joy as we do the eternal work of Torah. May we rest in the arms of the divine bride.