When HaShem revealed the Torah at Sinai, the Israelites died at every word. Their souls flew from their bodies and Hashem revived them with the dew that He will use to resurrect the dead. [MR Ex. 29:4; TB 88b]

 From where does the dew of resurrection descend? From the head of God, as it says (SHS 5:2), “For My head is drenched with dew, My locks with the damp of night” [YS SHS 988]

 “This is the Torah when a man dies in a tent…” (Num. 19:14)¹ Resh Lakish derives from this verse that the Torah’s words will only endure when those who have learned them will also die for them. [TB Shabbat 83b]

  “Your dew is droplets of light…” (Isaiah 26:19)  From this we learn that one who engages with the light of Torah [and dies for it], the luminous dew of the Torah will resurrect him/her. [TB Ketuvot 111b; TZ Tikun 19]

 Truth be told, we are born pleasure seekers. HaShem endowed our souls with an innate drive to avoid pain and pursue pleasure. This legacy (called the pleasure principle) is a mixed bag—it is our greatest stumbling block and the force that drives us toward redemption. Our appetite for pleasure will not cease until it’s satiated, and that will not occur until the messianic golden age.

Life is actually a spiritual path that trains us to become connoisseurs of pleasure. We start off enthralled by things that glitter and taste sweet but soon move on to more exotic treats. Our pleasure buds slowly refine and we become more discerning. Cheap thrills lose their allure when, time after time, they produce more pain than pleasure, more loss than gain. We grab for delight and then discover a closetful of hidden costs. We were duped and won’t make that mistake again. With our newfound savvy we look for a better bargain. Our goal is to find a pleasure that is 1) intense, 2) long-lasting 3) free of noxious side effects, 4) that does not produce a crash in its wake.

These more stable pleasures are also more “expensive.” To finance a two week vacation in the Bahamas, we must concede part of our paycheck to the piggy bank and deprive ourselves of the luxuries that money could have provided in the present.  This is called delayed gratification. We give up our daily ritual of a Starbucks latte (a pleasure relatively minor and short-lived) which eventually enables a two week getaway in the Bahamas. But even that luxurious R & R fades before you know it.

And so the hunt continues for the perfect pleasure. According to kabbala every delight without exception comes from absorbing some new increment of consciousness. Even sugar highs and carnal gratifications reduce to this.  But if the container of that consciousness is coarse and cheap it will produce pains and losses, crashes and travails that devour its benefits and make the whole venture hardly worth its while.

The Madoff fiasco is a perfect example.  Were those five years of monthly satisfaction—opening the statements and watching the numbers grow—was that exhilaration worth the loss of the entire nest egg further down the line.² Obviously not.  It was a hype.  The problem is that our visual field is circumscribed. So when we calculate the costs of an action we only foresee its chain of effects up to a certain point.  We can’t see to the finish line and consequently (as in the Madoff debacle) disasters occur that were invisible at the outset because of our contracted visual field.³ Slowly our horizons widen, we acquire wisdom and anticipate the longer-term consequences of our deeds.

One sign of maturity is when our taste buds start to register ever more subtle delights—like the pleasure of discovering a new truth, or making someone happy by lending them a hand, or choosing the high road despite its sacrifice. These more noble pleasures are much closer to our 4-point goal. Yet if we examine our gratification from these deeds we will usually find that it is mixed.  Part is from the pure goodness of the act, and part is from the praise, love, merit, or honor that it attracted. The more the latter plays a role, the more brief the pleasure and the more likely a crash of sorts will follow, as the saying goes: “Pride precedes a fall.” [Prov. 16:18]

But once we’ve tasted the “sweetness of good” (which kabbala calls tsachtsachot),⁴ the soul is hooked…it wants more of that. And so begins our spiritual path, the search for this elusive joy, commingled with good, that does not degrade, and targets the soul’s pleasure center. The Torah tells us that good is actually a synonym for God-Presence, in Hebrew, Shekhina.⁵  Our search for the perfect pleasure, leads us to good which leads us to God.

Yet the more intense the delight the more expensive its price tag.⁶ There is an inverse ratio between tsachtsachot and ego gratification. The former increases at the latter’s expense. Whichever way one accesses Presence—whether as insights that come through wisdom teachings, love that comes through imitating HaShem’s generosities, peace that comes from meditation, alignment that comes from obeying Hashem’s will, rapport that comes through prayer—it is only acquired through discipline, sacrifice, blood, sweat, and tears. You must trade a fistful of ego for a sliver of tsachtsachot (the tranquil elation that comes from bringing heaven down to earth).

Kabbala informs us that the purest and most expensive pleasure is called crystalline dew—luminous drops of sweet light (טלא דבדולחא) that distil from the crown (כתר) and trickle down through the seven brain centers that mark the path of inner awakening.⁷ They are such a potent force of paradigm shift that they even revive the dead and are thus called (טל תחיית המתים), resuscitating dewdrops.

These luminous droplets made their appearance at Sinai—the most profound manifestation of God that ever transpired on the planet.  An estimated four million people experienced that historic event.  A searing revelation of Presence engraved the souls of an entire nation with the-truth-of-the-universe compressed into a single burst of light. 

The people were overwhelmed.  The revelation was so mind-blowing they could not contain it.  Their souls flew out of their bodies at every word. They died and were revived, says the midrash, by this resurrecting dew.  These restorative droplets of light—this soothing balm of Shekhina Presence—initiated them into the ultimate pleasure of meeting their Creator face to face,⁸ breath to breath.⁹ The impact of this mass awakening (and the bliss of it) still now impels the Jewish people to be seekers and servants of God and will continue do so until the end of time.

Connoisseurs of tsachtsachot, we crave this resurrecting dew, this distillate of pure consciousness, these droplets of eternal life. But its purchase price is the steepest on the planet. It only comes to one who dies for it…who dies for truth, or integrity, or humility, or generosity, etc. To those with educated taste buds, this pleasure is so compelling that they are willing to die a million ego deaths—to face their demons, admit their flaws, renounce temptations and die for truth.

The enlightened master and the junkie are equally pleasure-seekers, only one is a connoisseur of tsachtsachot while the other is addicted to cheap thrills.

Please HaShem, on this anniversary of the Torah’s revelation as we study in its honor may we receive a precious drop of resurrecting dew.  And may its sweet light melt into the cells of our being and reset our pleasure compass so that we know (once again) in our bones that the only enduring pleasure comes from choosing life—eternal life—that comes from “cleaving to the tree of life,” the Torah that is our treasured guide for life.

——————-

[1] “This is the Torah (i.e. the law that applies) when a man dies in a tent. All who come into the tent and all that are in the tent shall be ritually unclean for seven days. And every open utensil, which has no covering upon it, is unclean.”Num.  TB Shabbat 83b.

2That is from the perspective of the investor but one could ask the same question from the perspective of Madoff himself.  Were those years of wealth and status worth the shame, incarceration, humiliation of wife and family, etc.  Also, obviously not.

3That’s the Talmud’s definition of a sage: One who sees the entire chain of cause and effect that will be set in motion by a deed and chooses accordingly.”

4 Isaiah 58:11; Zohar 1:148a; Ramak, Pardes Rimonim 23:18.

5 Ex. 33:19. I will cause my goodness.  Also, there is a prayer in which good becomes a name of God: Blessed are You, Hashem…Hatov m’ha’maytiv (who is good and does good).

6 L’havdil.  A study was done with rats in a cage.  The rat was on one half of the cage and a delectable was placed on the other end.  Between the rat and the treat was an electrified plate.  The question was how much discomfort  was the rat willing to endure to get the goody at the other side. The rat endured low levels of discomfort for food.  But as the volts got higher, he refrained.  If there was sugar water he was more highly motivated but again soon refrained.  If there was a mating option he endured more but that incentive also that had its limits. But if, on the other side of the cage, the rat received a zap straight to his amygdale’s pleasure center, there was no amount of discomfort that would dissuade him. These inner pleasures that we are discussing here are zaps of varying intensities to the soul’s pleasure center, and one who has cultivated the tastebuds for this will endure any discomfort, even unto death.

7Ari, Mavo v’Shearim, 3:2:3.

8 Devarim 5:4. ד   פָּנִים | בְּפָנִים דִּבֶּר יְהוָֹה עִמָּכֶם בָּהָר מִתּוֹךְ הָאֵשׁ:

9 Zohar in 37 places.

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This illustrated video teaching, called PoleHolders, is the sixth installment in our series on Paradox.  It uses the polarity of Truth and Faith to model a way of grappling with paradox that alters consciousness and expands ones capacity to hold complex truths. It demonstrates how to extract the energy locked inside a paradox and channel it toward growth and change.

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Pesach 5773 / 2013

The 12th step in our seder is called Tsafun—meaning hidden or secret. It follows the festive meal and marks the time for “dessert” which, at the seder, means our last portion of matzah, called the Afikoman. Really, the dessert should be the Paschal lamb—the sacrificial centerpiece of our evening’s ritual, but without the Temple there is no way to truly sanctify the lamb’s slaughter so we substitute matzah instead.

In the original Passover (in Egypt) we needed to start eating the lamb by midnight and to finish by dawn.[1] The rabbis subsequently added a fence. They ruled that from Temple times onward a korban Pesach must be finished by midnight. There are a range of opinions about whether we should also eat our Afikoman by then. Some say yes, and some rule that other factors take precedence. All agree that at the very least, the first portion of matzah and maror (stage 8 & 9 of the seder) should be completed by midnight.

Nevertheless, at whatever point you do eat your Afikoman (whether before, during, or after midnight) that moment becomes for you “like midnight”[2] ( כַּחֲצֹת הַלַּיְלָה), for you are reenacting the first korban Pesach eaten in Egypt around 3325 years ago.

The drama of that event is nearly impossible to convey. Huge upheavals ripped through the cosmos on both its inner and outer planes. Forces converged to produce a paradigm shift that brought heaven down to earth with all the sweetness and anguish that entails. Below are three perspectives on that event which can serve as kavvanot for eating the Afikoman.

1 – Pshat. The Torah paints the scene as follows: The Israelites divided into groups that gathered in a single home and shared the same Paschal lamb. As evening approached they slaughtered their lambs and (as per instruction) smeared its blood on their doorposts and lintels, an ominous sight that lent an air of foreboding to their preparations. They roasted the entire lamb in one piece (stripped of its skin) arranged in a fetal position רֹאשׁוֹ עַל-כְּרָעָיו וְעַל-קִרְבּוֹ )3 All this despite the Egyptians’ worship of the lamb as one of their gods.

At dusk each group gathered in the home where it would eat its korbon. Once the sun set, no one was permitted to exit that space until daybreak under threat of death.[4] They began their seuda, saving the Paschal lamb for dessert. The blood on the lintel dampened the atmosphere. And then, at midnight, while eating their korban Pesach, chaos erupted outside their blood-stained doorways. Screams and cries filled the streets. Every Egyptian household bewailed its dead. The Torah does not exaggerate when it states that there never was and never will be a cry of anguish that compares to this.[5] All the while the Israelites stayed locked in their homes, hearing the shrieks, gazing upon their bloodied doorways, eating their korban Pesach, the god of Egypt.[6]

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DIALOGUE WITH DESTINY
Sarah Yehudit Schneider

Said Haman to Achashverosh: “Let these [Jewish] people be destroyed…” The King removed his signet ring, gave it to Haman and replied: “Do with them as you see fit.” …A decree went out to destroy, slay and exterminate all Jews, young and old, women and children on a single day, the 13th of Adar and to plunder their possessions…[1]

Shortly after Hamen’s demise (in the month of Sivan), Esther begged the King to annul Haman’s genocidal plot that was still scheduled to occur in seven months time.

Achashverosh replied: “An edict which is written in the King’s name and sealed with the royal signet may never be revoked.”…[2]

The rabbis note that the book of Esther begins with a codeword that signals hard times ahead.  The verb, ויהי (and it was), seems innocent enough, but in Hebrew its first two letters spell vay (meaning oy, or woe). R. Berekhia wonders: How could it be that already, there, in the first word, tragedy lurks.

And he actually concludes that, really, it’s always that way, for destiny is a real force in the universe. It seems that from the beginning of time HaShem decreed the fate of each soul and the mark it would leave on the world.

…From the first instant of creation HaShem assigned a fitting destiny to each and every person [that would walk the earth]…He appointed Cain to be the model of all slayers and Abel the prototype of those slain. He made Noah the first of those saved from disaster and Abraham the first to be circumcised [by Divine command]…He put Nebuchadnezzar at the head of all ravagers.  And, [most relevant to our matter at hand,] He made Achashverosh the prototype of sellers and Haman, the prototype of buyers.[3] When the people saw that these last two souls were here, now, and set to go they cried, “vay vay (oy oy).” Esther and Mordecai wrote the Megilla and opened it with this word to convey that mystery.[4]

This commentary introducing the Midrash on Esther presents free will and determinism as the central theme of our Purim tale.[5]   The story revolves around a genocidal decree signed by “the king,” a double entendre that (in the Megilla) also always indicates the King of Kings (KoK)—the Prime Mover and Shaker of history. And the Megilla informs us that a pronouncement from the king (read KoK) can never be revoked. Once issued it MUST be executed. Yet in this instance, despite the irrevocability of Divine decree, the proclamation does not, in the end, materialize; there was no genocide. Clearly there is a contrary force—hidden and formidable—that can oppose HaShem’s decrees and prevail. Yet this rival power could not possibly succeed unless it too had God on its side.

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This illustrated video teaching is the fifth installment in our series on Paradox.  It explores the mystical underpinnings of  I-Centers and how they interact to produce a whole greater than the sum of its parts. This 7 min. video ends with practical instructions about how to work with I-Centers that we find disagreeable.

We recommend viewing the video in full-screen mode by clicking the box (made from arrows) at the bottom right of the screen when the video begins. The logo will disappear when you move your cursor off the screen.

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It is customary to eat fruits and drink wine in celebration of TuB’Shvat, the Rosh HaShana of fruit trees. And it is fitting to admire each fruit and speak its praises before you eat it. In that spirit I present a tribute to wine.

Of the five fruits indigenous to Israel only grapes can be processed in such a way that their “status” increases.  When eaten off the vine the blessing we say is the same as for all fruits. But when turned into wine (or grape juice), an exclusive blessing gets said that applies only to it.

This is because wine is more than a beverage—it is psycho-active substance and, in fact, the archetype of them all. The path that grapes traverse in their odyssey of becoming wine parallels our cosmic journey of expanding consciousness.

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This Illustrated Video Teaching introduces the concept of I-centers—an extremely useful tool for sorting through the complexities of paradox. It is always good to build an idea from the ground up. In the next teaching (Part 5 or our series) we will examine the mystical origins of this concept as well as its practical applications.

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Hanukkah teaches us how to survive exile and how to accomplish the purpose of it.  And that brings us the paradox of “isolation and integration” as you shall see.

We recommend viewing the video in full-screen mode by clicking the box (made from arrows) at the bottom right of the screen when the video begins. The logo will disappear when you move your cursor off the screen. If you are having trouble viewing this video, you can download it here.

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Hillel says to start with one candle and add another each day until, at the end, there’s eight…Shammai says to start with eight and remove one each day until, at the end, we’re left with one….[TB Shabbat 21b]¹

Now, we rule like Hillel, but in the messianic days-to-come we will rule like Shammai [Mikdash HaMelek, Parshat Bereshit 17b; R. Tsadok HaKohen, Chanukah 8] 

“The era of revealed miracles ends with Purim. ‘But what about Chanukha?’”² [TB Yoma 29a]. R. Tsadok explains that the essential miracle of Chanukha, the miracle of lights, was not visible to the world. No one saw it but us, and you had to be an insider to appreciate the significance of it.  And really, what kind of miracle was it? We could have lit the menorah with contaminated oil, or delayed the kindling for a week until we produced a new batch. What practical difference did it make? The essence of the miracle was the quiet affirmation of relationship between HaShem and His beloved people packaged in a form that only we would appreciate.

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“The Cosmic Roots of Paradox” is the third in a series of video presentations that explore Paradox as a Kabbalistic Path of Expanding Consciousness.” It explains why a deepening relationship with the Holy One requires one to grapple with ever more challenging dilemmas. Know, says kabbala, that each new paradox is a portal to higher consciousness.  (It is best to watch this video in full-screen.) To view other videos in this series, visit our Media page.

We recommend viewing the video in full-screen mode by clicking the box (made from arrows) at the bottom right of the screen when the video begins. The logo will disappear when you move your cursor off the screen. If you are having trouble viewing this video, you can download it here.

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