Genesis Cycle Two Chayay Sarah 23:1 to 25:18
Chayay Sarah
From time to time we fall off the camel. However clumsy it looks, if we touch the ground or slide, if it lasts one second or fifty years, there is a way to get back on. The final action is to allow ourselves to be covered….once again… with our veil.
This and more we learn in lines 24:63-64 in Chayay Sarah.
First, though I want to discuss veils of consciousness. Life, alone, is a veil of consciousness. There are veils within veils, lives within lives, names within names, our prayers to God, our various perspectives, all billowing in the breeze of our essence, all protecting and revealing just enough to allow for our humanity. They include the ways in which we see and are seen, thoughts, dreams, dreams beyond dreams. Our clothing is a veil, our stories, our experiences, even places, words, letters. Each sip of water can be seen as a veil in that it leaves an imprint on our tongue. And there are millions of veils of memory. There is death. There is the veil beyond the dead and the one that covers from the living.
Consciousness therefore necessitates not less but more coverings. So then, what do we do with them? Why are they even here? I think we may want to create a tapestry of intensity, texture and concealment like Joseph’s multi-colored coat (for example). This way, we raise the vibration within our beings until it propels out in one tunnel of force and return. But let’s not skip ahead so quickly to Exodus or even to the end of Genesis. In Chayay Sarah clearly we are fine-tuning these veils, touching them gently, making sure they are there. We are facing and discerning those we use every day. This is a time of modesty, humility, sensitivity and care to fine detail. We must, in the creation of our enlightenment, assure that the texture of coverings is reflected not only from the living to the dead, but from heaven to earth and within our very beings. We must make sure that the veils have a way to both transform and remain. The problem is that things happen. Shock happens. We metaphorically fall off the camel. We (for a moment or an extended one) lose touch with our bearings.
Abraham understands this. He’s faced with one of the largest shocks possible, the death of a loved one. It has been said that Sarah dies while Abraham is returning after the akeda. In any case, she no longer exists. She is his dead. However, her soul exists and therefore her body needs covering. This, therefore, is his responsibility. But it’s almost like a train has stopped because there aren’t any tracks and Abraham has to build them to join with those ahead. There is work to do. Abraham acquires the land to bury Sarah. He weeps first. But he understands the importance of continuity, of creating that connection so the concealment can continue. After all, it’s as if his wife is suddenly exposed, naked.
After Sarah is buried. Rebecca is covered (24:65). The verb casah is in the reflexive, not the active. Both women, dead and alive, experience the action of being veiled, of manifesting a layer of consciousness on soul and on body.
In terms of Rebecca, she is traveling to the home of Isaac. He goes out into the field, lifts his eyes and she lifts hers. If their eyes don’t meet, the heart-vision still joins at the nexus. This powerful vibration causes her to lose touch with her bearings. She either slides or falls (it depends on the rabbi quoted) and then, without a word about this fall she sits back on the camel and is covered with her veil. Who is covering her? God. Who buries Sarah? God. Except in this case, Rebecca does the work to create the connection. She does it smoothly, without bemoaning her hurt. If she’s ashamed she does not show it. Focused, aware, she gets back on and allows herself to be covered. This is an important moment. Sacred. Divine continuity is honored, Nobody mocks her, reminds her of her clumsiness, tries to correct her or dwell on this mistake. Nobody needs to see her as having fallen. The servant, for example, doesn’t jump in with a fancy new camel-riding technique. Neither does Isaac. Nobody points out her exposed face. This is not about ego or knowing more or knowing less. This is about living spiritually. In order for healing to happen therefore and for the veil to cover her there must be trust in Rebecca and her love for God. In order for Sarah to be buried and for her soul to receive the veil of burial there must be trust that the soul is loved by God. With that trust we can survive our sadness. We can love. We can continue to love.
From the very mystical therefore to the very mundane, it is God’s wish that we manifest the divine veils in everyday life. It is also the wish that we do what is necessary to keep the continuity as smooth and seamless as possible. It’s not easy. But if we can define the veils including the garments and the burial places then we, as humans, can know how to fulfill our purpose in this world and create the concealments that reflect His.
So, may we find humility before God. May we know that it won’t always be easy. May we reflect as many concealments as we can so that we can love deeper, feel more compassion, find a wholeness within that is not burdened by outer or inner conflict. May we do the work to heal the dead and the living. May we accept that we will fall off the camel and that the way to once again discern the veil is with focus, simplicity of action and purpose. May we create a world around us in which there is peace, grace, respect, sensitivity and dignity.
From time to time we fall off the camel. However clumsy it looks, if we touch the ground or slide, if it lasts one second or fifty years, there is a way to get back on. The final action is to allow ourselves to be covered….once again… with our veil.
This and more we learn in lines 24:63-64 in Chayay Sarah.
First, though I want to discuss veils of consciousness. Life, alone, is a veil of consciousness. There are veils within veils, lives within lives, names within names, our prayers to God, our various perspectives, all billowing in the breeze of our essence, all protecting and revealing just enough to allow for our humanity. They include the ways in which we see and are seen, thoughts, dreams, dreams beyond dreams. Our clothing is a veil, our stories, our experiences, even places, words, letters. Each sip of water can be seen as a veil in that it leaves an imprint on our tongue. And there are millions of veils of memory. There is death. There is the veil beyond the dead and the one that covers from the living.
Consciousness therefore necessitates not less but more coverings. So then, what do we do with them? Why are they even here? I think we may want to create a tapestry of intensity, texture and concealment like Joseph’s multi-colored coat (for example). This way, we raise the vibration within our beings until it propels out in one tunnel of force and return. But let’s not skip ahead so quickly to Exodus or even to the end of Genesis. In Chayay Sarah clearly we are fine-tuning these veils, touching them gently, making sure they are there. We are facing and discerning those we use every day. This is a time of modesty, humility, sensitivity and care to fine detail. We must, in the creation of our enlightenment, assure that the texture of coverings is reflected not only from the living to the dead, but from heaven to earth and within our very beings. We must make sure that the veils have a way to both transform and remain. The problem is that things happen. Shock happens. We metaphorically fall off the camel. We (for a moment or an extended one) lose touch with our bearings.
Abraham understands this. He’s faced with one of the largest shocks possible, the death of a loved one. It has been said that Sarah dies while Abraham is returning after the akeda. In any case, she no longer exists. She is his dead. However, her soul exists and therefore her body needs covering. This, therefore, is his responsibility. But it’s almost like a train has stopped because there aren’t any tracks and Abraham has to build them to join with those ahead. There is work to do. Abraham acquires the land to bury Sarah. He weeps first. But he understands the importance of continuity, of creating that connection so the concealment can continue. After all, it’s as if his wife is suddenly exposed, naked.
After Sarah is buried. Rebecca is covered (24:65). The verb casah is in the reflexive, not the active. Both women, dead and alive, experience the action of being veiled, of manifesting a layer of consciousness on soul and on body.
In terms of Rebecca, she is traveling to the home of Isaac. He goes out into the field, lifts his eyes and she lifts hers. If their eyes don’t meet, the heart-vision still joins at the nexus. This powerful vibration causes her to lose touch with her bearings. She either slides or falls (it depends on the rabbi quoted) and then, without a word about this fall she sits back on the camel and is covered with her veil. Who is covering her? God. Who buries Sarah? God. Except in this case, Rebecca does the work to create the connection. She does it smoothly, without bemoaning her hurt. If she’s ashamed she does not show it. Focused, aware, she gets back on and allows herself to be covered. This is an important moment. Sacred. Divine continuity is honored, Nobody mocks her, reminds her of her clumsiness, tries to correct her or dwell on this mistake. Nobody needs to see her as having fallen. The servant, for example, doesn’t jump in with a fancy new camel-riding technique. Neither does Isaac. Nobody points out her exposed face. This is not about ego or knowing more or knowing less. This is about living spiritually. In order for healing to happen therefore and for the veil to cover her there must be trust in Rebecca and her love for God. In order for Sarah to be buried and for her soul to receive the veil of burial there must be trust that the soul is loved by God. With that trust we can survive our sadness. We can love. We can continue to love.
From the very mystical therefore to the very mundane, it is God’s wish that we manifest the divine veils in everyday life. It is also the wish that we do what is necessary to keep the continuity as smooth and seamless as possible. It’s not easy. But if we can define the veils including the garments and the burial places then we, as humans, can know how to fulfill our purpose in this world and create the concealments that reflect His.
So, may we find humility before God. May we know that it won’t always be easy. May we reflect as many concealments as we can so that we can love deeper, feel more compassion, find a wholeness within that is not burdened by outer or inner conflict. May we do the work to heal the dead and the living. May we accept that we will fall off the camel and that the way to once again discern the veil is with focus, simplicity of action and purpose. May we create a world around us in which there is peace, grace, respect, sensitivity and dignity.
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