The car packed to the hilt, the Thule threatening to burst at the seams atop our car, our family drove with desperation for one purpose only: to be near the mountains. The familiar rental cabin nestled fifteen miles from Mt. Baker in Washington affords five star mountain accommodations: no cell phone access, no wireless internet and no cable TV. In essence, the goal was to set up shop, our own Mishkan, away from the roar of everyday life. While some of the usual technological conveniences were lost, we knew we would not be without the four elements crucial to the Mishkan and considered symbolically essential in any Jewish home: the Ark, the Table, the Menorah and the Incense Altar. Ok, well not literally - they wouldn't fit in the car. However, all of these elements are interconnected to the basic physical elements that still exist in this world: air, fire, earth and water. Being out in the more remote areas at the foot of a mountain, it wasn't hard to see that I was in a larger than life Mishkan model that was vitally connected to all of these natural elements. Perhaps it was noticing on our second day the Holy Smoke bus, clad in gold (or school bus yellow paint) that waited outside the gate of the cabin properties boasting of an eatery just down the road. It sat there, as if some beacon, reminding me that even in this remote area, under the Heavens, we carry our own Mishkans with us today and follow suit with the kohanim: setting up, tearing down, wherever we go, wherever we stay.
This week the theme of hiddeness has been ever before us as we have read the book of Esther, a book with no mention of G-d's name. As we recount how our people nearly became subject to a plan of mass genocide, it would behoove us to peer behind the curtain of history and see the thread of salvation that has been ever present throughout time. Along this thread have been individuals, who by no other reason except divine purpose and not coincidence, have been set before our people to be raised up during a time of need.
When the Baal Shem Tov was young, he lived in the mountains of southern Russia. From time to time he would walk to the top of a mountain, and lose himself in thought. Lost to the world, lost to himself, but found to G-d.Deep in this lostness and this foundness, he once began to walk where there was no ground to walk on. As he put his foot down, he was stepping into an abyss. But before he could hurtle downward, a nearby mountain moved, and closed the gap. The Baal Shem, all unknowing, continued on firm ground: lost to the world, lost to himself, but found to G-d. - - Chassidic tale
Stonewashing is a process in the textile industry that is used to give a new denim cloth garment a worn-out appearance. This process also helps to increase the softness and flexibility of otherwise stiff and rigid fabrics such as denim. This process entails what the name implies: washing the denim with large stones to roughen up and soften the cloth. As stones represent an obstacle or hardship, the denim is likened to B'nei Yisrael's fabric of faith. The challenges that Hashem places before B'nei Yisrael as they travel through the wilderness are meant to tenderize and increase their faith. Moshe, Mashiach Yeshua and the Baal Shem Tov all prove to us that through this stonewashing comes a small seed of faith that can rise above the evil, chaos and doubt that prevail in our midst. Not only can we move mountains, but we can be a conduit of faith and possibility to those around us, even in the most impossible of circumstances.
In the world in which we live today, grandeur and wealth continue to be a means to power and influence. Despite this trend throughout history, it is important for us to recall a time when one person, and then a nation, made a remarkable transformation in a time akin to today. We see Moshe unravel the greatest illusion and break through the arrogance of a leader whose kingdom was built on the sand. We also see our people receive the first mitzvah, the key for a return journey, which would not only bring redemption, but lead them on the path back to Gan Eden.
This year Tu B'Shevat (Shevat 15) comes to us on the night of January 29th. This is the Jewish "New Year for Trees." Marking much more than the growing cycle of the forest and orchard, this small holiday is filled with profound intention. With four cups of wine ranging from white to red we reflect upon the four seasons of the year and four worlds of tradition. We also consume various kind of nuts and fruits. All of this speaks of a return to the Garden of Eden and a connection to The Tree of Life. Below I have included a short reflection for the holiday.
In The Garden, Adam Harishon (the first man) ate fruit and was satisfied from the trees of Pardes, the orchard (Aramaic). There, trees blossomed in an endless springtime season. Sustenance was found with the extension of an arm. Adam plucked sweetbread from leafy branches and lived in a state of total sheleimut-wholeness.
"I haven't ever really found a place that I call home, I never stick around quite long enough to make it...
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy Well I deserve nothing more than I get Because nothing I have is truly mine...
While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down While I am so afraid to fail so I won't even try Well how can I say I'm alive... " Dido from Life for Rent
As we enter a new book of the Torah, the history of our people will take a dramatic turn due to the destiny shift of one man - Moshe. From a royal upbringing to shepherding the wilderness of Midian, one man will hurl himself from all the comforts of the known world to search the depths of his soul and embark on a spiritual quest that will not only transform himself, but lead to the ultimate salvation of his people.
by Rebbetzin Malkah
by Rebbetzin Malkah
by Tim Layne
By Rebbetzin Malkah
by Rebbetzin Malkah