In Netzavim we stand before God. This is not a casual moment. It’s the final few stretches of consciousness before Moses dies and we are left with the words he writes and the song he whispers in our ears. He has been reminding us of our responsibilities…like a dying parent concerned about the survival of his children. And no doubt, we need the reminders. We have been through so much! We have been through an outer and inner struggle that has caused insanity, drought, death, confusion, and famine. For forty years (or is forty just a metaphor…the four worlds times ten) we have been lost in an absolute no-man’s land where nothing grows. With a promise of freedom we have been bound to our bodies. With a promise of love, we have been bound to our minds. Now, we finally get to netzavim…we stand…before God like souls who have finally risen to get a glance, a tiny glance of a Promised Land. And what does Moses say? He says that God isn’t making this covenant with us alone (29:13).
Well then, we wonder, who is He making it with? Is there another group of unknown Israelites? A secret society? A spiritual elite? People better than us, having more fun, smarter than us? Are there beings living off the fat while we are doing all the work?
The sages of Talmud see it this way:
Moses swears to the covenant not just as the Israelites understand it but also as Moses did and as God understands (Nedarim 25a).
This is one heavy responsibility. In fact, it’s seen as the renewal of the covenant. Previously, we were each held responsible as individuals. Now, we are obligated to help the rest of the community (Or HaChaim). And this makes sense. Moses and God understand us as one whole. And within the one whole there is the secret of it that belongs to God. While the sages say that we are not held responsible for this perfect vision, this concealed light…it seems pretty clear according to these same sages that we are expected to move towards embracing it.
But wait, we think. We’re just human. We mess up all the time. How could we possibly access anything like Moses or like God? Who were these Talmudic rabbis anyway? Why are their expectations of us so high?
But there’s more.
Why (the sages ask) is the word b’rit used and not Torah? Why do we keep the b’rit specifically? Well, Torah (the word) could be seen as the whole thing or as tiny pieces within. It could be seen as the rulings on idolatry or on the tzitzit. If the word b’rit is used it is understood that everything is included….even, as you might expect…the breath between the letters.
This b’rit therefore transcends any possible misunderstandings. It transcends the bits and pieces within us or within Torah. Alone, apart from the community, we are those bits and pieces. In these bodies, with these glorious arms and legs, with the ducts and organs and brains and veins and memories and emotions….we are not yet the beings that God imagined. There’s more to us than the physical/ emotional/ physiological beings that we know ourselves to be today. There’s a secret world of vivid beauty and sensory perception that we can barely imagine, let alone embrace. Stars beyond the stars. Pupils in our eyes that pierce beyond all vision. A central nexus of love and intelligence that is buried and rising from within each letter of Torah itself.
It is not with you alone that I am making this covenant Moses says. It’s like saying yes…God is passing the covenant to you but there is more, so much more and how amazing that more can be. How do we access it?
Well, we listen. What do we listen to? The song…the shir…the still silent voice embedded in the tones of mitzvoth and misphpatim and chukim…those of compassion and forgiveness. Patience. Graciousness. How do we listen? Well, we might try listening to the shofar. As it says in Genesis, God breathes life into the nostrils of Adam. Since we (man) breathe into the shofar the breath is God-breath, God-source piercing through our ears and eyes and throats. It is within us, this breath, this vertical sound breaking through all barriers to open our hearts. The sound and breath within the shofar goes from the heightened world…atzilut...to assiyah here on earth. And back up. It’s a cycle, a pulsing, a force going in and out, the very power of life. This construct is both obvious…clear…and secret…mystical. It’s explained in depth by Cordavera, the kabbalist and teacher of Rabbi Isaac Luria. Mishnah says the shofar is different than the horn in that it must be hollow or easily hollowed-out. The horn therefore is part of the bits and pieces, like an idol of solid stone or wood. But the shofar is the transmission instrument from our heart to God and God-heart to us. If we listen we actively witness the action of the merging of vibrations…our true work in this world.
Finding a shofar is therefore an important adventure. It’s best done with people you love. You can walk around in your metaphysical universe and move from kiosk to kiosk within your words. One shofar might be too big. The other too small. One way of speaking may be too direct. The other too distant. When I was in Jerusalem I asked my son to blow into each shofar we were considering. If he could get a sound out of it I placed it on the list of possibilities. When I speak to my husband I try out different possible ways of shining through the vessel of my heart. If I can get a sound out of it…and if my husband can hear it…then those words will work that moment.
The same goes for God. You know it when you are listening. When you’ve found the right shofar, the sound is as clear as a bell. When you work on it…it becomes translucent and sweet…like a kiss.
One thing though is for sure. If we want to be the people beyond us alone…those for whom God made the b’rit…we must make use of his communication instruments. We are gifted with them and we are to use them to place our seal on that covenant, the one that we have been instructed to obey.
How to apply this to today? Yes, blow the shofar. More important be the sound that rises through the shofar every day of Elul. Hear our b’rit with God. Know that the sound is a manifestation of the b’rit itself. Stand. Rise from the bits and pieces in your mind. Live up to a world beyond what we think we can handle. We can hold it. We can be the angels and the spirits. Stand wherever you are. In an airport, On a mountain. Listen. Know that there is a connection between that instrument that is you and your ability to accept even more of this radical awe and amazement called God. Once you have the right hold, sound yourself loud and true. Listen. Sound your love. For your children. For the sick. For the poor. For your enemy. Heal the wounds of the world. Join them with sound and the secret silence within our one womb. Know how we can return and rise. Know who we are.
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