Bamidbar 5773

A Tibetan Buddhist monk once gave a foreigner a tour of his monastery, or so I was told.  The visitor recognized a vase, sitting empty and ignored in a corner, as being some eight centuries old, and priceless.  “Oh this thing?” asked the monk, as he picked it up and smashed it.  “It is just a thing.”

As the Book of Numbers opens, God gives directions for the packing and transportation of the sacred objects (“klei kodesh”) of the Tabernacle.  “Over the table of display they shall spread a blue cloth; they shall place upon it the bowls, the ladles, the jars, and the libation jugs; and the regular bread shall rest upon it.  They shall spread over these a crimson cloth which they shall cover with a covering of dolphin skin; and they shall put the poles in place.”  (Numbers 4:7-8)

The monk would say “How odd.  How can things be sacred?”    And surely he has a point – so many of us enslave ourselves to acquiring and maintaining objects that are destined to break and dissolve.  Some people mistake objects for God, and some objects are prized above life.  Surely this is sacrilegious and wrong.

Nonetheless, Judaism certainly believes that objects can be holy.  Objects can connect us with our past.  Objects can remind us of our obligations.  Objects can elevate our spirits and actions.   Objects can be tools of learning.  Objects can save lives.

I have a pair of candlesticks that my great, great grandparents used.  They are beautiful, and their grace inspires me to slow down as Shabbat arrives.  They remind me of my ancestors, including the brave woman for whom I am named and the loving grandmother who labeled them with my name, and my commitment to raise my son in a Jewish home.  The flames dance and delight as we teach Jacob about Shabbat and his people.  Those candlesticks are sacred to me.  Jacob’s blankie helps him feel warm and secure, and is sacred to him.

What objects, if any, are holy to you?

Sephirat HaOmer -- 39th Day -- Netzach sh'b'Yesod

Seven is the number of perfection, according to the Torah.  The six days of creation culminate in the seventh day of rest.  Six years of working the land are completed by a seventh year of lying fallow.  There are seven mothers and fathers who founded the Jewish people.  In the Land of Israel, Passover and Sukkot last seven days.

When we are told to count off seven weeks of seven days, we know something important is afoot.  With the counting of the forty-nine omer (bundles of grain or corn), the nation progresses day by day from Passover to Shavuot.  Fittingly, that pinnacle moment later comes to represent the giving and receiving of the Torah.  The seven weeks of seven days represents the transformation from redemption to revelation.  It is a time of development from lowly to lofty.

How can we be in a period of both perfection AND growth?  The Kabbalists assigned a different Divine quality to each of the seven days, and overlaid those qualities with each of the seven weeks.  Each day presents a juxtaposition of two Godly characteristics.  The counting of the omer becomes a journey through the matrix of God’s qualities – all perfect, and yet still transforming.

This Shabbat will be 39^th day between Passover and Shavuot; that is, five weeks and four days.  The qualities of Netzah sh’b’Yesod represent an enduring foundation.  On this Shabbat, meditate on the ways you are grounded in your life.  How are you “like a tree planted near water, sinking [your] roots by a watercourse” (Jeremiah 16:8, from this week’s haftarah)?  In what ways are you absolutely centered and secure?  How did you get there, and what keeps you there?  From the strength of being grounded, all things are possible.