Parashat Emor: Why is the Spiritual experience of the Holidays only complete in Eretz Yisrael?

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Parashat Emor
Why is the Spiritual experience of the Holidays only complete in Eretz Yisrael?

Why is it so challenging to celebrate Jewish Holidays Properly Outside the Land of Israel?

When we lived in Memphis, Tennessee, back in 1990-1991, celebrating the Jewish holidays properly was not only a challenge – it often felt like something vital was missing. The holidays lacked the deep spark of connection and excitement we had experienced in the Land of Israel. There was no blossoming almond tree to greet us on Tu B’Shevat, and the awakening of nature had yet to arrive on Rosh Chodesh Nissan, when it was time to bless Hashem for the flowering trees. Celebrating the birth of the State of Israel felt hollow in the Diaspora, and we longed for the charged energy and exhilarating dancing at the Kotel on Yom Yerushalayim. I remember trying to celebrate Sukkot in our plexiglass sukkah, with its green plastic siding, set up in the communal parking lot behind our condominium. It stood in stark contrast to our memories of Sukkot in Israel, where joyous singing and music flowed from every neighboring sukkah, and you could feel how the entire people were dwelling together in one vast, unified sukkah.

And then came the rains – heavy downpours that flooded our sukkah and soaked our sleeping bags, furniture, and food. We tried spreading out our drenched blankets on nearby parked cars, only to be met by a shouting neighbor: “What are you doing, you crazy Jews? Is this how you try to relive the Israelites’ desert experience? Do you really think they dwelt in plexiglass booths with green plastic walls?” We felt quite ridiculous and very much out of place. Ironically, there was one hidden blessing in that moment: this same non-Jewish neighbor, appalled by our dripping sleeping bags, decided to throw them in her washer and dryer. And needless to say – we didn’t protest.

 

How are the Mitzvot of Sukkot Synchronized with the Land of Israel?

It is not coincidental that our holiday experience in the Diaspora especially clashed with Sukkot, whose celebration is linked with entering and dwelling in the Land of Israel. As it is written, “…when you gather the produce of the land.”

 

ספר ויקרא פרק כג פסוק לט אַךְ בַּחֲמִשָּׁה עָשָׂר יוֹם לַחֹדֶשׁ הַשְּׁבִיעִי בְּאָסְפְּכֶם אֶת תְּבוּאַת הָאָרֶץ תָּחֹגּוּ אֶת חַג יְהוָֹה שִׁבְעַת יָמִים בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן שַׁבָּתוֹן וּבַיּוֹם הַשְּׁמִינִי שַׁבָּתוֹן: (מ) וּלְקַחְתֶּם לָכֶם בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן פְּרִי עֵץ הָדָר כַּפֹּת תְּמָרִים וַעֲנַף עֵץ עָבֹת וְעַרְבֵי נָחַל וּשְׂמַחְתֶּם לִפְנֵי יְהוָֹה אֱלֹהֵיכֶם שִׁבְעַת יָמִים:

“But on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, when you gather in the produce of the land, you shall celebrate the festival of Hashem for seven days; the first day shall be a rest day, and the eighth day shall be a rest day. Then you shall take for yourselves on the first day, the fruit of the hadar tree, date palm fronds, a branch of a braided tree, and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the Hashem your G-d for seven days.” (Vayikra 23:39-40).

The mitzvah of rejoicing before Hashem with the Lulav and its bunch is a tangible expression of joy and gratitude for the good land to which Hashem has brought us, and for the ingathering of its produce. These four species are more than symbolic – they embody the transition from a barren wilderness, “a place without figs, grapes, pomegranates, and water” (Bamidbar 20:5), to a fertile land rich in fruits, fragrance, and flowing rivers. That’s why, in memory of this transition, we take the most beautiful fruits with the most delightful fragrance, and the most attractive leaves the Land has to offer – readily available in Eretz Yisrael during the harvest season (Rambam, Guide of the Perplexed III:43). Thus, the mitzvot of Sukkot are deeply attuned to the Land’s agricultural and spiritual rhythm.

Why Does Parashat Emor Write the Mitzvot of Sukkot in Two Separate Sections?

The unique character of Sukkot as celebrated in the Land of Israel – distinguished from the festivals celebrated in the desert – is reflected in its dual mention in our parasha. While all the festivals share a common mitzvah of bringing sacrifices, commanded even in the wilderness, Sukkot includes mitzvot that are tied directly to life in the Land. The mitzvah of waving the four species contrasts with the desert experience, devoid of plant life, while the mitzvah of leaving our comfortable homes, bursting with goodness, and dwelling in the sukkah is specifically to remind us of the contrast to the past wilderness wandering, when we didn’t have homes within which to settle in our own land.  

Parashat Emor mentions Sukkot twice – first in verses 34-36, and again in verses 39-43 – with a summary of all the festivals placed in between (Vayikra 23:37-38). This split reflects the dual character of Sukkot: The first part pertains to every part of the world, whereas the second part is uniquely rooted in the experience of Eretz Yisrael.

The connection between the holiday of Sukkot and Eretz Yisrael is furthermore reinforced again in emphasized in Parashat Ekev: “You shall make the festival of Sukkot...when you gather in from your threshing floor and winepress” (Devarim 16:13), echoing “when you gather the produce of the land” (Vayikra 23:39). As the Rashbam explains, when our homes are filled with goodness – grain, wine, and oil – we are commanded to step out of that comfort and remember how Hashem had us dwell in Sukkot during our forty years in the wilderness, without homes or inheritance. By leaving our solid homes for temporary huts, on Sukkot, we give thanks to the One who gave us Eretz Yisrael and homes full of blessing (Rashbam, Vayikra 23:43).

How does Sukkot Highlight the Connection between the Jewish People and Their Land?

The festival of Sukkot highlights the bond between the Jewish people and their land more than any other holiday. The mitzvah to dwell in the sukkah is especially synchronized with the climate of Eretz Yisrael. It falls during a season when it is just cool enough to make it clear that we are not simply ‘camping’ outdoors, but fulfilling a mitzvah. At the same time, it is usually not yet too cold or rainy to make the mitzvah burdensome – unlike our experience celebrating Sukkot in Memphis, Tennessee, where storms flooded our sukkah and dampened both our gear and spirits.

Chag HaAsif – the Festival of Ingathering – celebrates the harvest season in the Land of Israel. It teaches us how the physical can be elevated through joy and gratitude. Rav Kook emphasized that in Eretz Yisrael, the body meets the soul. The holiness of the land itself imbues the physical acts performed within it with spiritual meaning. The Four Species – the materials used for shaking the lulav – further amplify this bond. Each of them grows in the Land of Israel and reflects its beauty and bounty. As Rav Kook explains, the holiday of Sukkot is so deeply tied to the sanctity of the Land and to the joy of her fruits that Chazal required us to intercalate the year to ensure that Sukkot would always fall during “the time of the ingathering of the crops of the Land.”

What is the Connection between Living in the Land of Israel and Dwelling in the Sukkah?

The Vilna Gaon teaches (as cited in Kol HaTor 1:7) that there is a profound connection between the mitzvah of living in the Land of Israel and the mitzvah of dwelling in the sukkah. In both cases, we enter the space completely, with our whole body. This concept is hinted at in the verse: וַיְהִי בְשָׁלֵם סֻכּוֹ וּמְעוֹנָתוֹ בְצִיּוֹן – “His sukkah was in Shalem, and His dwelling place in Tzion” (Tehillim 76:3)

The Vilna Gaon further explains: “The sukkah must be ta’aseh – built intentionally and not from something already made. So too with Tzion – it must be actively built through our deeds.” This echoes the Midrash on the verse: וּבָא לְצִיּוֹן גּוֹאֵל “A redeemer shall come to Tzion” (Yeshayahu 59:20) – which teaches that as long as Tzion is not built, the redeemer does not come. As our Sages say: “Once Jerusalem is rebuilt, the son of David will come.” In the Midrash: “The son of David does not come until Jerusalem is rebuilt” (Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 17b).

Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa similarly taught: “There is no mitzvah as beloved as the sukkah, for we enter it with all our limbs, his clothing – even our shoes and boots.” He added: “So too with the mitzvah of settling the Land of Israel. We enter it entirely, and it encompasses every part of us. One who dwells in the Land fulfills this mitzvah constantly – day and night, whether awake or asleep – without interruption. That is why it is considered equal to all other mitzvot.”

May we all merit returning to the Land of Israel and celebrating Sukkot in the highest way – experiencing the joy of all of Am Yisrael dwelling together in one vast, unified sukkah. In the merit of returning to the Holy Land, may we soon witness the rebuilding of the fallen Sukkah of David – the Beit HaMikdash.

Parashat Shemini: Why Does Eating Kosher Food Mindfully Help Us Merit Living in The Holy Land?

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Parashat Shemini

Why Does Eating Kosher Food Mindfully Help Us Merit Living in The Holy Land? 

Why Were Many Newcomers to Torah Vegetarian Before Embracing the Torah Path?
My husband and I were both vegetarians for a period before joining a yeshiva and returning to the Torah path. We soon discovered that many other ba’alei teshuvah shared a similar experience – instinctively cutting out meat a while before embracing the Torah path. Looking back, it’s clear this wasn’t a coincidence. For many of us, abstaining from meat was an unconscious preparation for spiritual sensitivity – a distancing from the unrefined in pursuit of the pure. 

Returning to meat wasn’t easy. It was even more challenging for us environmentalists who cared deeply about animal life and found the concept of animal sacrifice especially difficult to accept. It took heartfelt guidance from our beloved teacher, Rabbi Goldstein zt”l, who explained that sacrifices are not merely ritual slaughter but acts of elevation. The animals, he said, willingly stretched their necks – not as victims, but as offerings ascending to a higher spiritual state. “When a Jew eats meat mindfully,” he taught us, “the animal becomes part of something far greater – not just a human being, but a holy Jew.” 

This is especially true at a Shabbat table where the food’s energy is directed toward singing holy tunes, sharing words of Torah, and mitzvot. Rabbi Goldstein encouraged us to print menu cards for our Shabbat meals that proclaimed: “Our table is a mizbeach (altar), and our food is a korban (sacrifice).” We would joyfully recite this sentence each time we broke bread, transforming our meals into a form of avodah (spiritual service). I believe our temporary abstinence from meat helped purify our hearts and made us more receptive to the truth of Torah. Our yearning for holiness led us to intuitively reject impure, non-kosher meat, which is a spiritually numbing food that dulls the soul and clouds inner perception. After learning the laws of kashrut, most of us gradually returned to eating meat, this time with reverence and discernment, understanding that kosher meat – consumed with mindful intention – is not a descent into the physical but a pathway for spiritual elevation.

How is the Responsibility of Holiness Distinguished in the Land of Israel?
Parashat Shemini centers on the sanctity of the Mishkan and the strict requirements for Divine service. For many of us who returned to Torah observance, the process of spiritual growth began with refining what we ate and how we lived here in the Holy Land. It is no coincidence that the Torah places great emphasis on holiness in physical acts, especially in eating. The sanctity of the Mishkan – the dwelling place of the Shechinah – required preparation, purity, and boundaries. Likewise, the sanctity of the Land of Israel depends on how we live within it and sanctify the physical, Eretz Yisrael, even the physical becomes spiritual. Being careful to eat only kosher food – from which the blood of the animal has been removed – is one way to merit living in the holy land.

ספר ויקרא פרק יא פסוק מג אַל תְּשַׁקְּצוּ אֶת נַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶם בְּכָל הַשֶּׁרֶץ הַשֹּׁרֵץ וְלֹא תִטַּמְּאוּ בָּהֶם וְנִטְמֵתֶם בָּם:

“You shall not make yourselves abominable with any creeping creature that creeps, and you shall not defile yourselves with them, that you should become impure through them” (Vayikra 11:43).

The Ramban explains that the holiness of the land is bound to our actions. The mitzvot were primarily given to be fulfilled in the Land of Israel, and it is only here that the Shechinah can truly dwell. Since the Land of Israel, the center of the inhabited world, is the inheritance of Hashem, and specially designated for His Name, when dwelling in His Land we must be sanctified in our conduct, to be worthy of His presence. This is especially so in matters of forbidden relationships and other mitzvot tied to the purity of body and soul.  That is why the Torah warns: “Keep all My statutes and ordinances… so that the Land does not vomit you out” (Vayikra 20:22). Eretz Yisrael does not tolerate impurity. Outside the Land – even though all belongs to Hashem – purity is never complete due to the ruling spiritual forces, and nations assigned their own celestial guardians. But in the Land of Yisrael, Hashem alone is our G-d, and we are uniquely bound to Him. The fullness of Divine service is meant to take place specifically in the Land of Israel (Ramban, Vayikra 18:25).

What is the Connection Between the Holiness of the Mishkan and the Land of Israel?

Eretz Yisrael is not just a backdrop for holiness – it is a living participant in the spiritual destiny of the Jewish people. The Torah teaches that the land will “vomit out” those who defile it (Vayikra 18:28), emphasizing that Eretz Yisrael cannot tolerate sin. The Sifra elaborates that the land itself becomes defiled through immoral behavior and, as a consequence, expels its inhabitants (Sifra Acharei Mot 13). 

This spiritual sensitivity distinguishes the Holy Land from all other lands. Entering Egypt was optional, but entering the Land of Israel is a Divine obligation. In Egypt, whether or not Bnei Yisrael followed Hashem’s will, they were allowed to remain. But Eretz Yisrael is different. If you fulfill the will of the Creator, then the land of Canaan is given to you. But if not, you are exiled from it. As it states: “Let not the land vomit you out for defiling it” (Vayikra 18:28); (Sifre Parashat Ekev Piska 2). This makes living in the Land of Israel not just a privilege, but a responsibility. 

Holiness is not an automatic consequence of being in a holy place – it must be cultivated through Torah, mitzvot, and inner refinement. The connection between the Mishkan and the Land is rooted in this shared sanctity. Just as the Shechinah only rested in the Mishkan when Israel was purified, so too does it rest in the Land only when its inhabitants live with spiritual integrity. As Rav Moshe Cordovero teaches, the desert generation experienced the spiritual reality of Eretz Yisrael even before entering its borders – for the air, atmosphere, and angels of the Land accompanied the Shechinah wherever it rested. “…the air of the Land of Israel went with the generation of the desert… with the Shechinah, which traveled with them… until the entry into the Land of Israel, to its appropriate place. There is the resting place of sanctity, for there is the gateway to heaven” (Pardes Rimonim 25:2). 

Thus, the Land of Israel is not just the destination of our national journey – it is the vessel for Divine presence. Its holiness responds to our behavior. When we live with purity and intention, the Shechinah dwells among us. But when we defile the Land, it recoils. Just as the Shechinah departed the Mishkan when sanctity was breached, so too does the Land expel those who abandon the path of holiness.

Why is Eating in Holiness the Kosher Pathway to Divine Awareness?

Parashat Shemini includes the foundational laws of kashrut, distinguishing between pure and impure animals. “For I am Hashem who brought you up from the land of Egypt to be your G-d – you shall therefore be holy, for I am holy” (Vayikra 11:45). Rashi notes that this verse implies the very act of keeping kosher elevates us to holiness (Rashi, Vayikra 11:45). Eating is one of the most physical and earthly acts – yet the Torah teaches that it can become an act of holiness. The food we ingest becomes part of our bodies – and thus, part of the vessels through which we serve Hashem. 

The Zohar notes that וְנִטְמֵתֶם בָּם “You shall become impure through them” (Vayikra 11:43) is written defectively, without an alef, to imply a state of sealed impurity from which there is no easy purification. Whoever defiles himself with unkosher foods is considered as if he worships idols. One who serves idolatry departs from the realm of holiness and enters the realm of impurity. So too, one who eats forbidden foods is drawn into spiritual defilement – in this world and the next. Therefore, it is written: “Do not make yourselves abominable through the animal and the bird and all that creeps on the ground, which I have set apart from you to regard as impure” (Vayikra 20:25); (Zohar III, 42a). 

Non-kosher food cannot be elevated; it dulls the soul and causes spiritual insensitivity that prevents us from fully experiencing closeness with Hashem. On the other hand, eating kosher food in sanctity with the right intention can be spiritually transformative. It allows us to elevate the physical world and turn it into a vehicle for Divine service. When we bless with kavanah, eat mindfully, and use that energy to serve Hashem, we elevate the physical and transform it into an experience of spiritual connection (Tanya, Likutei Amarim, Chapter 7). This has particular resonance in the Land of Israel. Only kosher food – ideally grown or prepared with mitzvah-consciousness – resonates with the spiritual frequency of the Land. Eating in holiness becomes a pathway for aligning with Eretz Yisrael’s inherent sanctity.

Which Efforts Can Help Us Live in True Shalom in the Holy Land?

Parashat Shemini reminds us that holiness is not about otherworldliness – it is about elevating the world we live in. Whether it is fire brought to the altar or food brought to our lips, the way we live and what we consume matter deeply. The Land of Israel magnifies this truth. It is a land that responds to the spiritual level of its inhabitants – and demands their moral and spiritual refinement. In the place where the Shechinah resides, we are invited to uplift the physical through mindful mitzvah performance. Here, eating kosher food in holiness is not only a mitzvah but a key that unlocks deeper alignment with the land’s essence. The mitzvot hateluyot ba’aretz – agricultural commandments unique to the Land – illustrate this unity between body and soul, sustenance and sanctity. Tithes, Terumot, Ma’aserot, and the Shemitah year remind us that even our eating must be done in covenant with Hashem. 

May we merit to eat in holiness, dwell in holiness, and uplift every corner of our physical lives, especially in the holy atmosphere of Eretz Yisrael. May our endeavors to live holy lives in the holy land bring about lasting shalom to the Land of Israel and the world! May our efforts to sanctify the mundane empower our holy soldiers to liberate the Land in its entirety. May our sincere service return the Shechinah in her full glory to her sacred resting place.

How Does Shemita Facilitate Gratitude for Renewing Our Relationship With G-d?

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Parashat Behar

 How Does Shemita Facilitate Gratitude for Renewing Our Relationship With G-d? 

Shemita: The Synthesis Between the Systems of Private and Shared Ownership 

The Sabbatical year (Shmita) is truly a gift! I experienced this, especially during the last Shemita in 2021–2022 or 5782. For the first time in the several Shemita Cycles, I had been living on the Land, I felt I could let go of my ownership of our entire plot with its orchard of grapevines and apple, pear, plum, cherry, pomegranate, fig trees and more. It was such a freeing feeling not to feel responsible or worry about picking all the fruits before they would go bad. I took a much-needed break from removing worms and making jams, fruit pies, dehydrated pears, and apricot leather.  I was no longer in charge of sharing and distributing crops, I just announced “Hefker!” – ‘free for all to help themselves’ and whatever may be wasted, so be it. Let the animals of the field, the birds, stray rabbits, turtles, hedgehogs, and even the ants enjoy! At the very least the fruit remnants would return to the earth and nourish it.  The Shmita year – when the land belongs to no one and everyone – is a perfect synthesis between the free enterprise of the Western world and the trend of utopic Marxism, that I was swept away by in my teenage years. Whereas we idealistic teens didn’t have any criticism to spare against the capitalistic private ownership and the exploitation of the poor, it later became all too clear to most of us that the innate self-interest of human nature doesn’t allow a system where everyone shares everything to function permanently. The Torah system of integrating and replacing private ownership with communal ownership every seven years seems to me the perfect sustainable, socialistic system. During Shemita when the produce belongs to everyone, production, distribution, and exchange are owned and regulated by the general community, and we get plenty of Otzar Beit Din fruits and vegetables sold for picking prices. Since no charge is made for the fruit, but only for the labor, Otzar Beis Din products cost much less than regular retail prices making the crop available to the poor. Furthermore, one year of shared ownership has repercussions for the following six years reminding us that ultimately everything belongs to Hashem, and even when we do enjoy private ownership, we don’t forget the poor, but happily let them have their pick. After a well-deserved break from getting dirt under my fingernails, during Shemita year, as soon as Rosh Hashana was behind us, I was eager to restore my garden and plant the winter crop. Then a new gift surprised me! All the swiss chart and beet leaves that I didn’t even plant but just began to water came up in such eager abundance that I literally could feed an army. For every B’erot retreat the students would pick the tender baby leaves for a humongous, wholesome salad, for all to share. 

Receiving the Continual Gift of the Land by Letting Go of the Land 

Parashat Behar opens with the mitzvah of Shemita (the Sabbatical Year).  Just as the Shabbat of the week is a day of rest, the Shemita year is a year of rest. The Sefat Emet explains the purpose of the Shemita year based on its root sh-b-t:

ספר ויקרא פרק כה פסוק ב 

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם כִּי תָבֹאוּ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי נֹתֵן לָכֶם וְשָׁבְתָה הָאָרֶץ שַׁבָּת לַהָשֵׁם:

“Speak to the children of Israel and you shall say to them: When you come to the land that I am giving you, the land shall rest a Shabbat to Hashem” (Vayikra 25:2).

Hashem gives us the Land of Israel to inform us that the land belongs to Hashem. Hashem gave the land to Avraham forever and kept giving it to him. This is the mitzvah of Shemita, that Hashem keeps giving us the land anew. Every Shemita the gift of the land renews itself. As it states, “And let G-d give you [from the dew of the heavens and the fat of the land]” (Bereishit 27:28). [the “and” is interpreted to mean:] let G-d give you and give you once again. Therefore, “When you come to the land that I am giving you…” (Vayikra 25:2), the word נֹתֵן/noten – ‘give’ is in the present tense. The Children of Israel are ready to receive this gift, as it states, “The land shall not be sold permanently, for the land belongs to Me, for you are strangers and [temporary] residents with Me” (Vayikra 25:23). This is the praise of the Children of Israel being aware that we are temporary residents. We understand that the land belongs to Hashem, and we attach ourselves perpetually to His gifting power. This is the meaning of the repeated “to give” the land:

ספר נחמיה פרק ט פסוק ח וּמָצָאתָ אֶת לְבָבוֹ נֶאֱמָן לְפָנֶיךָ וְכָרוֹת עִמּוֹ הַבְּרִית לָתֵת אֶת אֶרֶץ הַכְּנַעֲנִי הַחִתִּי הָאֱמֹרִי וְהַפְּרִזִּי וְהַיְבוּסִי וְהַגִּרְגָּשִׁי לָתֵת לְזַרְעוֹ וַתָּקֶם אֶת דְּבָרֶיךָ כִּי צַדִּיק אָתָּה:

“You found his heart faithful before You, and You made the covenant with him to give the land of the Canaanites…to give to his seed, and You kept Your words, for You are righteous” (Nechemiya 9:8). That the land should be given to the Children of Israel repeatedly. Every Shemita “the land will return to Hashem” (Sefat Emet, Parashat Behar, Year 5648). 

The root of both the words Shabbat and Shemita is ‘rest’ or ‘let go’ and ‘return.’ Thus, when we let go of our ownership of the Land, Hashem returns it to us multifold through His perpetual gifting power.  

Acknowledging Hashem’s Ownership of the Land Makes it Ours 

I’m blown away by this concept of continuously relinquishing ownership to be able to receive Hashem’s perpetual gift. What an epiphany to realize that the more we let go of control and ownership the more it becomes ours. This reminds me of the well-known Talmudic statement, Rabbi Levi raised a contradiction: It is written: “The earth and all it contains is Hashem’s (Tehillim 24:1), and it is written elsewhere: “The heavens are Hashem’s but the earth He has given over to humanity (Tehillim 115:16). The former verse refers to the situation before a blessing is recited (Babylonian Talmud, Berachot 35a). Whenever we recite a blessing before eating, we recognize Hashem’s ownership. For example, when we praise Hashem for the apple we want to eat, we recognize that He is the King and the Creator of the fruits of the tree. This verbal acknowledgment that everything belongs to G-d imbues us with ownership of whatever we plan to enjoy, conversely, if we fail to recognize Hashem’s ownership, then, as Rabbi Chanina bar Pappa said: Anyone who derives benefit from this world without a blessing, is considered as if he stole from G-d (Babylonian Talmud, Berachot 35b). Just as Hashem relinquishes His ownership when we recognize it, I often experience similarly that my desire to give is enhanced when the recipient is undemanding and acknowledges that it is my choice whether to give her what she wants or not. In contrast, I have lately had many uncomfortable encounters with people claiming ownership of what they think they deserve without recognizing that it is up to the giver to decide whether to give or not to give. Who wants to give to someone who comes across with claims of their rights, without even being willing to hear another perspective?  

Shabbat and Shemita – The Source of Renewed Blessing 

According to the Sefat Emet, Shabbat is not only about rest but also about ‘returning,’ another meaning for the same Hebrew root ש-ב-ת. Similarly, during the Shabbat of the Land (Shemita) the land returns to G-d while we rest from working it. The purpose of this return is so that the land will be given to us anew when the Shemita year concludes. Ohr Hachayim explains how every Shabbat imbues Creation with new life. Just as this is true for the Shabbat of Creation [the weekly Shabbat], so it is true for Shemita. All the blessings are dependent on Shemita. Only the Children of Israel are prepared to receive this influence. Likewise, it states about Shemita וְהָיְתָה שַׁבַּת הָאָרֶץ לָכֶם לְאָכְלָה “[the produce of] the Shabbat of the land shall be yours to eat” (Vayikra 25:6). This hints that all main influences are through שביתה/shevitah – ‘resting’ or ‘returning.’ Resting from work establishes the world (Sefat Emet, Parashat Behar, Year 5648). When we discern the land as a G-d-given-gift we learn not only to appreciate the land but also to open ourselves to attach to the gifting power and be blessed again and again. The more we learn to regard the land as a gift the more it will become a constantly renewed gift.  If we perceive every sunrise, every blade of grass, and every breath that we take, as a gift, then they become gifts that we receive every minute and every second of the day. It isn’t easy to maintain this attitude of appreciation. It is much easier to take everything for granted. Stepping back and doing without helps us gain gratitude. By abstaining from work every seventh year, or every seventh day, we may feel deprived of something central to our lives. But it is exactly by taking it away from ourselves, that we appreciate what we had, and we are therefore able to receive the gift again. The dynamic relationship of movement back and forth, in immersing ourselves in our work and in our withdrawing from our work, in our giving and receiving keeps the relationship alive and vibrant and prevents it from becoming stale (Based on Rabbi Dov Linzer, A Dynamic Faith of Gratitude).

  Gratitude Focus for the Week of Parashat Behar –

Some Tips for How to Learn to Appreciate through Abstinence  

When was the last time you set aside ten minutes to reflect on how grateful you are, for the things you have today that you only used to dream about? For most of us, the answer is “never.” It’s a simple but powerful exercise to break you out of taking everything for granted. All you do is: 

• Set Aside Ten Minutes to Do This Exercise with Something in Your Own Life That Has Meaning to You -- Sit down and think deliberately about what you have now that you take for granted. This is particularly effective when you practice it concerning an area of your life that you’re contemplating upgrading.

• Practice Deliberate Deprivation – Have you ever cut something out of your life temporarily? Maybe you went on a fast, cut out sugar, stopped drinking coffee, or cut computer time. You likely noticed that once you had that item again, whatever it was, you appreciated it a million times more than before. It’s easy to take our daily routines for granted. Shake up your routine and you’ll increase your appreciation.

• Go on a Camping Trip – is a perfect reset. If you’re feeling like you’re taking things for granted, there’s nothing like spending a week or so in a tent to make you fond of indoor plumbing, electricity, and air conditioning.  When we get home, everything that was ordinary when we left feels more special. Our beds are more comfortable, we appreciate our roof (and how it keeps out rain!), and our kitchen as well.

• Take a Smartphone Break – If you think you need a new smartphone, put it away for a week or two. Afterward, you’ll have a new sense of appreciation for your old phone.

• Embark on a “No Spend Month” – If you are spending too much on things you don’t need?  Take a month of the extras and spend only on your basic bills and food. Nothing else.

• Cut off Sugar from Your diet for Two Weeks – Eating too much sugar, salt, or processed foods desensitizes our sense of taste. Try cutting them out for a while to reset your taste buds.

How Can We Transform Our Homes from the External to the Internal Dimension?

Printable Version

 Parashat Metzora  How Can We Transform Our Homes from the External to the Internal Dimension?

 

How do I Reunite the Torn Apart Pieces of my Psyche? 

I feel the ground is being torn down from under my feet. Everything is topsy-turvy! The house never looks as messy as at the peak of Pesach cleaning. With my head in the depths of the kitchen cabinet and pots and pans scattered all over the kitchen floor, I am overwhelmed by a feeling of dissolvement.  It is as if all the different parts of myself are turning into torn-apart pieces, that I must sort out and bring back together in a different composition. There are treasured, vital items in the kitchen, and in my character that I must give their proper place, remove any external grime or dust, and make them shine. Some things are still important and usable, yet to a lesser degree. I will also remove their external attachment and keep them while relegating them to the backstage of my kitchen cabinet and psyche. There are other items that I painfully must be ready to let go of. It could be a favorite tunic or utensil that has been used up and become utterly threadbare and tattered or completely dilapidated. Correspondingly in my psyche, this could refer to a strong will to keep a thought, an attachment, or a relationship that no longer serves me. In the wake of Pesach, we are shedding layers on many levels and learning to let go. With every chametz crumb – we discard – we mustn’t forget to include its inner dimension and let go of any ego attachment. When I become humbled by feeling powerless and unable to keep my life under control, that is when I invite Hashem inside to help me reorganize my torn-apart pieces into a new and greater whole. 

The Blessings in Disguise within Plagues 

Even among the hardest tests we undergo, we can find many matters for which to be grateful. Parashat Metzora which is mostly about the plague of the spiritual skin disease of tzara’at, teaches us about the treasure found within the agony of the plagues.  Similarly, we have experienced positive effects during our recent plague of the coronavirus pandemic, such as reduced road traffic accidents, better communication, closeness among the family units, and other blessings in disguise. I believe the Coronavirus has helped us to discard the external or superfluous while treasuring the essential and internal. It has taught us that rather than dispersing our energy to the outside, it is vital to strengthen our connection with our loved ones, focusing, and investing more in them. In other words, the coronavirus has taught us a lesson on living more inner lives. 

ספר ויקרא פרק יד פסוק לד כִּי תָבֹאוּ אֶל אֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי נֹתֵן לָכֶם לַאֲחֻזָּה וְנָתַתִּי נֶגַע צָרַעַת בְּבֵית אֶרֶץ אֲחֻזַּתְכֶם:

“When you come to the land of Canaan, which I am giving you as a possession, I will place a lesion of tzara’at upon a house in the land of your ancestral possession” (Vayikra 14:34). 

This is [good] news for them that plagues would come upon them, (Torat Kohanim 14:75), because the Amorites [residents of Canaan] concealed treasures of gold in the walls of their houses during the entire forty years that the Israelites were in the desert, and in consequence of the plague they would demolish the house and discover them  [Vayikra Rabbah 17:6]; (Rashi, Vayikra 14:34).

How Can Plagues be a Result of Elevating the Sparks?

Rashi explains that the plague on the house is good ‎tidings for its owner because tzara’at required the owner to tear down the whole ‎house, which revealed treasures buried underneath by the previous ‎Canaanite owners, amounting to far more in value than the worth of the entire house.‎ The inner meaning of the “good tidings” is not only finding the material treasure” but the process of elevating divine fallen sparks. Kedushat HaLevi reminds us about the rule that the true joy we ‎experience is when we elevate the fallen sparks from the ‎‎Shechinah bringing them to the level of serving their ‎Creator. When we succeed in elevating fallen sparks, then the innerness within these sparks elevates not only the inner part of ourselves but even the sparks of the exterior part of ourselves, ‎known as the ‎חצוניות‎/chitzoniyut, so that we are enabled to discard this part of ourselves.‎ Our house has an internal and external dimension. The internal dimension is comprised of elevating the sparks, whereas the discarded parts constitute the external dimension. Comparing the human soul to the inner spark, and the body without the soul to the exterior, explains why the body of a deceased becomes impure. This is because it has lost the inner spark that connects it with the divine – the source of purity.  Similarly, once the sparks within the external parts of our home are elevated, then these external parts likewise become impure by losing their connection to the Divine. When our Torah verse speaks of the house’s exterior ‎suddenly displaying signs of a plague, this is nothing other than ‎the foul-smelling residue left behind in their house after the ‎Israelites had elevated fallen sparks by fulfilling G-d’s mitzvah (Devarim 20:16) ‎not to allow any of the Canaanite residents to survive.  ‎‎Rashi speaks of the glad tidings for the ‎Jewish people when they discover tzara’at upon the houses in the land of Israel that they newly conquered, referring to their joyful discovery of being able to raise the sparks so that they became elevated to spiritually higher regions. Yet after these sparks had left the houses, the houses became exterior and had to be demolished. This is the good news for the treasures that were found after demolishing the houses are the sparks, for the main happiness is to raise up sparks (Based on Kedushat Halevi, Parashat Metzora).

What is the Recipe for Elevating Sparks?

People often ask me “How do we elevate sparks?” I explain that raising sparks entails focusing on and connecting with Hashem through even the most pleasurable or the most painful experiences. For example, when we eat the most delicious Shabbat meal in a way that rather than succumbing to the temptation of taking selfish pleasure, we dedicate the pleasure we experience to serving Hashem by honoring Shabbat. Conversely, when we go through the hardest pain, which could easily make us feel that Hashem has forsaken us, yet we nevertheless choose to trust Hashem believing that this too is for the best, then we also elevate sparks. In both situations, a person is naturally so entrenched in the intensity of his experience that it is a great challenge to devote this personal experience completely to G-d. This principle applies firmly to the original war of conquering the Land of Israel without “allowing any soul to live from among these peoples’ cities, which Hashem, your G-d, gives you as an inheritance” (Devarim 20:16). Being a combat soldier ready to kill in a war is about the greatest pain a person can experience. It can tempt a person to succumb to his lowest animal instincts of anger and aggressiveness while fighting for the sake of victory for its own sake. When the soldier rises above his own selfish survival instinct to engage in violence and rather focuses on the mitzvah of serving Hashem by obliterating every single person among the evil enemy, what could be a greater way of raising up fallen sparks? 

A Woman’s Pesach Cleaning – The Rectification from the Tree of Knowledge 

The strong connection with Hashem that is necessary against all the odds to raise up sparks transforms us from living in the חצוניות/chitzoniut – ‘exterior realm’ to entering into the פנימויות/penimiut – ‘internal realm.’ Rav Shlomo Carlebach teaches us that during Pesach Hashem illuminates such a great light for us, through our innerness, that we are bound to enter the internal realm. When Hashem wants to give us something so heavenly, we need to purify the external so we can stand completely ‘inside,’ without allowing any stronghold for the ‘exterior realm.’ Cleaning the house is one of the greatest rectifications for the sin of the Tree of Knowledge. This rectification is handed over to the woman. It may seem lonely at times, for as much as the husband and children try to help, they can never enter totally into the domain of the woman’s rectification. In the place where a woman cleans and organizes while investing so much depth and seriousness – in that place, she is truly alone (Based on Rav Shlomo Carlebach, Lev HaShamayim: Pesach pp.85-88). Everything about the Tree of Knowledge is about the external dimension. It is what brought about the very first exile, from the utmost innermost place – the Garden of Eden. When we clean the house mindfully, we shed its external layers of dust and grime and thereby transform our home from the external dimension of the Tree of Knowledge to enter the internal dimension of the Tree of Life. Through Pesach cleaning, we have the opportunity to touch such an elevated place, which only a woman can reach. 

                     

Gratitude Focus for the Week of Parashat Metzora

“Japanese people have always regarded cleaning as more than a common chore. It’s normal there for elementary and junior high school students to clean their classrooms together. Cleaning is carried out not because there is dirt, but because it’s an ascetic practice to cultivate the mind.” (Shoukei Matsumoto, Guide to a Clean House and Mind p. 3). Every year, before Pesach, we are commanded to prepare our homes by getting rid of all the chametz, to start fresh and clean, to sweep out all the gunk and crumbs. We can do the same thing with the homes called our bodies, where we store a lot of aches, pains, annoyances, disturbances, stresses, maladaptive habits, etc. Guided meditations are a great way to clear your mind/body of the “chametz” before Pesach.

• Invite Your Community to Join Your Guided Meditation – preparing their minds and psyches for Pesach. Set the mood by lighting candles or dimming lights and turning off phones and other distractions. You may ask the following four questions as part of your Pesach meditation. 

1. What will you be cleaning for Pesach?

2. Why will you be cleaning for Pesach?

3. Does cleaning your space free you to be able to focus your attention inwards?

4. Which items are meaningful to you? How will these items help inspire you this Pesach?

• “We are Closer to G-d when We are Asking Questions Than When We Think we Have Answers” (Avraham Yehoshua Heschel) – While you go about your Pesach cleaning ask yourself questions about the chores you are doing that will inspire you to shed exterior layers of yourself. For example, when cleaning a certain kitchen drawer, you could ask how this drawer is a reflection of the state of your psyche, and how you can reorganize it in a way that will affect your inner being positively. When you scrub suborn stains, you could ask, what are the stubborn stains of my character that I need to remove? and what would be the most effective way to remove them? How do you think the process of cleaning and searching for chametz impacts your spiritual preparation for Pesach?

• Look for Hidden Treasures – Pray to Hashem to find your lost objects while you clean for Pesach. Perhaps during your ordeal of Pesach cleaning you may find a long-lost precious earring or any other item you may have displaced. Rejoice and feel grateful to Hashem for opening your eyes to find hidden treasures!

• Allow Yourself to Be Grateful for the Healing Opportunity of Cleaning – While we focus on removing all of the physical chametz from our homes, notice how the act of cleaning can spark an internal process of introspection, and strengthen your connection to Hashem. You can make your Pesach cleaning a collaborative event by engaging in a post-cleaning discussion and celebration to share what you gained from the experience and discuss what stands out to you most about your experience of cleaning for Pesach.

• Set an Intention for Your Pesach Cleaning to Remove the External Chametz for the Sake of the Mitzvah – so that you can elevate the sparks and transform your home to be aligned with the inner dimension. Focus on how the process of cleaning for Pesach is a way to rectify eating from the Tree of Knowledge – the source of everything external.