Vayak’heil/P’kudei -- Excruciating Detail

I have not read “Lord of the Rings” by Tolkien in a few years. But these parshot remind me of the long, long descriptions contained in that series of books. Descriptions of landscapes, descriptions of rooms, descriptions of people. Lots of descriptions.

Why would an author go into all this detail?

I think the reason is that they feel like they were there--really actually there--at these momentous events. And/or they wish they were there, and they try to will themselves there by noticing every little detail.

And most of all, they want us to be there with them.

Reading these parshot felt exactly like reading Tolkien. “Join me, and together, we will experience this really, really cool stuff.”

Ki Tissa -- Giving the Finger to the Golden Calf

The “finger of God” (Exodus 31:18) inscribed the tablets. Really? God’s actual finger?

Well, no, that’s a metaphor. We Reform Jews say that the words of our Torah were “divinely inspired," which means that they were written by thoughtful people, not nincompoops.

I am re-reading “Iron John” right now, Robert Bly’s wonderful book about the mythic journey that men make to maturity. He spends a lot of time talking about the value of ritual. I see that value in my own life and experience, because sometimes we need to leave the “real world” behind and briefly enter a different world in order to become who we are meant to be.

I truly believe this. It is probably why I spend a lot of my time creating imaginary worlds though music, drama and gaming. I suspect I am trying to create ritual space for myself.

So, this week, instead of attacking the many Tabernacle Rituals that we are presented with in the parshah (as my prior postings would have suggested I would!), I embrace these rituals. I see them serving a vital purpose. They give us a chance to enter sacred space and change ourselves.

That seems pretty important to me.

The problem comes when people take these METAPHORS too literally. All the details of the Tabernacle are not important, unless they are leading to personal and societal growth. Making sure the hem of the cloth of the priest is the exact number of cubits is not crucial, but being willing to do some degree of work that seems pointless and to let that work take you to another place/space/dimension …. that has meaning.

To borrow a phrase from Glenda the Good Witch of "The Wizard of Oz," the people who demand and build a golden calf forgot that they had the power all the time. They had it before Moses came along, and they had it while he was on Mount Sinai. They got lost in the physical symbols and the details of the rituals.

We don’t need the ruby slippers.

Putting your faith in outside symbols and powers is the easy path to take, because then responsibility for yourself is transferred outside yourself. Doing the tough inner work of facing your own mythical demons …. well, it’s just not as fun as partying with a golden calf.

Terumah -- Make Me A Sanctuary

"Make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them" (Exodus 25: 8).

Oh, that we would but each put the focused effort into our own inner lives that God asks the Jewish people to put into the sanctuary.

Perhaps that is exactly what this passage is about.

Imagine a world where everyone worked diligently to live out ideals such as "I am my brother's keeper" and "the evil I see in others is only a reflection of the evil I fear in myself."

Imagine.

Mishpatim -- Shiny Objects

Herein follows the torah I wish I was reading ….

Hey, this is the smart folks from the past writing for the smart folks in the future.

“God” is a metaphor for a mystery that transcends all categories of human thought. The mystery encompasses: why we live, why we die, why life feeds on eating other life, and on and on. A bright guy named Joseph Campbell will come up with that tidy definition for “God” in the late 20^th century.

It’s all a metaphor, folks. We know you know that. So if we occasionally use some language that seems to suggest an actual physical God, or an actual physical encounter with “God,: or an actual Promised Land, or an actual Heaven …. please look for the metaphor. As you will say, “Duh.”

There are two things to cover this week. One is to review the backstory. The other is to lay down some rules.

The backstory is known to you, smart folks, but needs to be repeated for clarity. Some person or persons who came before us had some great insights. They paid enough attention to their inner world to pick up some nice knowledge about what makes us tick as humans. Now, some not-so-bright folks talk about a guy named Moses, but of course we know that we have no idea whether there ever was such a person. The Eden story is about that movement from animalistic, survival-oriented thinking to more advanced thought processes. The Reed Sea story is about taking those advanced thought processes and being brave enough to keep moving forward in terms of facing our deepest fears, pains, regrets, losses.

It’s all metaphor for the journey we all take in life. Please keep reminding people that it’s all metaphor. Otherwise, we fear that multiple “gods” are going to spring up all over the world and that is not going to work out well … trust us.

The other thing we’re doing this week is laying down some societal rules. For the not-too-bright among us, we’re saying they come from “god.” In a few generations, we assume that everyone will understand that these rules did not literally get told to us by a physical “god,” but are simply an intelligent, productive way to run a society. And they certainly were inspired by that mysterious Source of all being, since the authors (us!) are all part of that Source.

Just in case anyone does not get the obvious metaphorical nature of all this, simply point out the constant references to the number 7 in our rules this week. Then point out the “amazing coincidence” (!!) that "Noah" and his "Ark" floated for precisely the same 40 days that “Moses” was on “Mount Sinai.” We’re sure that will take care of the problem.

Our thought was that you can pull this language out if folks start getting too literal, too physical about this stuff. We’re creating a community to share the journey that we all need to take deep inside ourselves. Don’t get distracted by the shiny objects.

Yitro – The God I Don’t Love

This parshah presents the essence of the God I don’t love.

I have been talking to my rabbi about this God, and saying to him: “This is not the God I believe in. Do I have to believe in this God to be a Jew?”

This God is vengeful, prideful, bossy, and all-too human. “Do this. Go there. Don’t do that, or I’ll kill you.”

This God is like a parody of a patriarchal, power-hungry tyrant.

I believe in the “god” that mythologist Joseph Campbell talks about: “God is a metaphor for a mystery that transcends all categories of human thought.”

A “metaphor for a mystery” does not act like God acts in this parshah.

BeShallach -- The Waters of Redemption

In case anyone out there is actually reading my musings on Exodus-As-Metaphor-For-Working-Through-Personal-Struggle/Addiction …. my self-identified “addictions” have at various times included: codependency (very hip in the 90’s to be codependent!), pornography, food and video gaming.

And now back to our story of personal redemption, a reading of the Book of Exodus as a story not of Israel’s redemption and journey to a physical Promised Land, but as a story of each person’s redemption and journey to an inner “promised land” of peace, balance, connection and harmony.

Exodus 13:17 tells us that the Jews take the long way home, not the direct route.

Who makes their journey to wholeness easy? We all find ways to complicate, obfuscate.

Exodus 13:18 tells us that the Jews travel to the Sea of Reeds.

I see this as equivalent to the mikvah or the baptism. Water is a symbol of renewal and rebirth. We walk in as one person, and leave as another. A breaking point has been reached and we will never be the same again. I let my father control our relationship for many years. When I got the maturity and courage to change the dynamic, there was a point reached when I could not turn back. I had come too far.

Exodus 13:21 tells us that the Lord send a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night to help guide the Jews.

I believe there is mystery in this world. Mystery in the form of things that simply cannot be explained. Like when we desperately need help, and suddenly, unexpectedly get help from seemingly nowhere.

Exodus 14:28 tells that the waters of the Reed Sea drown the Egyptians.

The Egyptians were about surfaces, appearances, illusion. The waters wash all that away. And we are left with only truth.

Exodus 15 is the Song of the Sea.

There are moments of indescribable joy in recovery and rebirth. The soul feels freed, and life suddenly seems to sparkle and come alive as it never has before. And we sing.

Bo - Darkest Before the Dawn

I repeat, as I said in an earlier commentary, that I believe we are all addicts to something. Do not think you stand above the alcoholic or the drug addict. If we do not struggle with obsessive eating or working or exercising or gossiping, then we may be stuck in obsessive and destructive thought patterns about ourselves or the world.

With this in mind, I continue my reading of Exodus as a story of recovering from addiction, breaking free of being a “slave” to something outside ourselves.

As the Jews complete their break from slavery this week, and as we all complete our break from the things that hold us back, there is often greatest darkness before the dawn. Hollywood knows this: things often look bleakest for our hero just before the final breakthrough.

In this parshah, that motif is represented by the final three plagues. They all involve darkness. First, locusts cover the sky and blot out the sun. Next, actual darkness descends both day and night. Finally, the darkest of events in the darkness of night – death of the first-born. The Torah could not be clearer: we have reached the breaking point.

Pharaoh’s “hardened heart” also fits my view of slavery as a metaphor for addictions and other things that hold us back. We begin to move towards recovery when we recognize that something needs to change. It is hard to come to that realization, and then life is often easier for a time as we make adjustments and become healthier. But there is always a backlash. Moments come along when old feelings, doubts and insecurities rear their head and all the progress comes into question. At these times, we are being tested, being given an opportunity to keep moving forward towards wholeness or to turn back to old, comfortable-but-unhealthy ways. I think Pharaoh’s hardened heart is a nice metaphor for this process of struggle as one moves through recovery. It can be very easy to fall back into old patterns and then rationalize them. As Pharaoh first give in to the Jews and then changes his mind, an addict may one moment fight his problem and the next moment rationalize giving in to his cravings. Think of it as the bargaining phase.

Vaera -- Feeling the Pain of the Plagues

Addiction = slavery. We all struggle with becoming “addicted” (to some degree or another) with things that help us deal with the harsh realities of life (we live, we die, we do not know why). Drugs, alcohol, pornography, food, computers, reading …. I could go on and on and on. Anything that can be done in this world, in my view, can be done in an addictive way. When it becomes addictive: 1) there is a compulsive nature to it, a feeling that one cannot live without it; 2) other priorities start to be pushed aside; 3) it becomes an escape from reality; and 4) it often leads to a whole secondary set of problems (cirrhosis, obesity, divorce, etc).

Addiction is like slavery because we have lost control of our own lives. And we have lost our way and no longer are “centered” in ourselves and centered with our Creator.

This week, the plagues begin. On one level, I think the plagues told a newly-founded group of Jews over 2,000 years ago that their God was the real, true and/or best God. “I will show the Pharaoh’s Gods, that I am the one, true, kick-ass God!”

However, that is not an answer that does much for me today. I already hope and believe that my Torah is talking about the one true Source, and we already won that battle!

So I am trying to read the Exodus story, a story about escaping from slavery, as a story about Escaping From Addiction. Moving from fear to love. Moving from avoiding reality to dealing truthfully with reality.

In this view, what are the plagues? I think the plagues represent the painful truths that the addictions are meant to avoid. Perhaps we have hurt someone we loved. Perhaps we have not lived up to our own dreams or plans. Perhaps we have never really faced the prospect of death in any serious way. Perhaps we have never stopped running the rat-race long enough to ponder “what it is all about.”

The plagues are the pain we have been avoiding. It hurts, it is dark and scary, but at the end there is light and hope.