You shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him.
- Exodus 25:2

Overlay it with pure gold - overlay it inside and out...
- Exodus 25:11


I have been reading lately about the concepts of giving and receiving love. Which is to say that, in a healthy, communicative relationship, one does not only give love, but needs to be able to receive it as well. And often, when we think that the barrier between another person and ourselves is that the other person "doesn't love us," in fact it often is the case that it is we ourselves - because of our own hurts, fears and rejection due to former wounding - that are actively, unconsciously, blocking that love from being received by us. And so we don't "feel" loved, even though we are loved.

The only way to solve this problem is to actively, consciously, focus on receiving gifts. And I think that is an important lesson that is given in our Torah portion this week. Moses is instructed to accept gifts for God "from every person whose heart so moves him." So, for example, not from the people who Moses thinks are better or more able to give gifts than other people. Not from the people who Moses thinks are serious, or authentically giving a gift. But from all of the people who are "so moved" to give a gift. And it is not the gift itself, although instructions are given as to what kind of gifts the people are meant to give in order to build the tabernacle and the ark, but the important thing is that the person has a desire to give the gift. And the second important thing is that the gift is received.

In this parsha, Moses receives the gifts from all the givers, and he receives them on behalf of God, but also on behalf of all of us. In this parsha, I think we can understand, on an intrinsic level, that we are like Moses, and like Moses, we have permission to receive the gifts that all people - and God - wants to give us. Whether or not we think that person is sincere, and whether or not we actually believe ourselves to be worthy.

We already know that Moses does not think he is worthy. He refused to even speak God's words to Pharoah, because he was self-conscious of a speech impediment. So we know that Moses is not perfect. And even though for the most part, he does what God asks him to do, even he has limitations, and they are physical and emotional limitations that are part of his body. They are part of who he is, and part of his relationship with God. But even so, he has permission from God to "accept all the gifts" of the people for the tabernacle.

And so we, too, have permission to "accept all the gifts" that those in our lives wish to give us, for the sake of God. We can accept them "for God," if we don't believe we can accept them for ourselves, and it is with those gifts, that we build the tabernacle and the ark to carry the tablets of the covenant.

The second thing we are told is that, when building the ark, we are to "overlay it with pure gold" both inside and out.

Certainly this was meant literally, but when I read this, I read it as a metaphor for the body. Because the body is a wondrous, marvelous tabernacle. As I study the parts of human anatomy in preparation to work with people and their bodies as a bodywork practitioner, I am constantly amazed and astounded at the beauty and complexity of the architecture of the human form. And it is this architecture that we carry around with us and move with and in every moment of our lives, to the point where we almost always take it for granted. We often mistreat our bodies, we feel embarrassed by them. Sometimes we ignore them completely. But they are part of us, they are us, and they are not "us" at the same time.

But when I say that I see this image as a metaphor for the body, I mean that, like the ark, we are constructed of precious materials "both inside and out." And I mean that, in a body, the muscles are what allow a person or an animal to move. Gold is beautiful to look at, and because of that, it is like the muscle of an economy. It allows people to move, eat, and enjoy life.

When you think of a body, you think of the muscles you can see, on the outside. Perhaps you flex your arm and witness a bulging bicep. Or perhaps you are aware that the muscles of your neck and back are sore from holding your head up, or from stress. Maybe you've gone running and your calf muscles feel sore. These muscles are precious material, and they are overlaid on the acacia wood of our bone structure.

But there are muscles inside you that you cannot see, and they are just as important. Inside your neck, under the round bone of your skull you have suboccipital muscles that hold your head up and allow it to move and rotate. Inside your leg, you have the iliopsoas muscles, which begin in the inner thigh, at the hip joint, and connect all the way up inside the torso, on the inner spine, just under the diaphram, which is the source of our breath. The movement of the diaphram creates the tzimtzum into which air rushes to fill the space that is created in our lungs, and the muscle returns to push air out again.

And then there are my two favorite hidden muscles: The subscapular muscles, between your shoulder blade and your rib cage. And the iliacus, which connects to the iliopsoas, and is a swath of muscle tissue lining the inside of the pelvic girdle, those two great wings that support and carry in them the weight of all that is precious - all of those inner organs that are both delicate and strong, and which function continually to keep us alive for as long as we are here.

Those wings, to me, are reminiscent of the Cherubim (Keruvim) that are to be placed at either end of the lid of the ark.

The keruvim shall have their wings spread out above, shielding the cover with their wings. They shall confront each other, the faces of the keruvim being turned toward the cover... There I will meet with you. And I will impart to you - from above the cover, from between the two cherubim that are on top of the ark of the pact - all that I will command you...
- Exodus 25:19-22

And so it is from the space between, where we confront each other, where we face each other, that God speaks. And it is also from within.

Because the body is a vessel not only for our internal organs, but for our spirit, and for what we know as "living Torah." We all carry within ourselves the "living pact" that we don't just do with God - it is something that we are.

And sometimes it is from that space, from between the wings, that God speaks. Because your body is a vessel of your pact with God. It is your pact with God. It is a gift and a vessel for God. And it is often through our bodies, from that place, between even the two halves of ourselves that face each other, that God speaks to us.

Shabbat shalom

The Backward Omer

One of the more profound things that I have done this year was to count the Omer leading up to Shavuot. And while I was immersed in that process, and memorizing the prayers, and focusing on what I was going to do differently each day, I didn’t have much time to contemplate the logic of the sequence. If anything, I thought it was backwards. Why did we Start with Chesed, and Finish with Malchut? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

My Rabbi told me that, in fact, some Jews do count the Omer backward (Malchut to Chesed) from the time of Tisha B’Av to Rosh Hashanah. I thought that sounded like it made more sense. But, thinking about it, I can see the wisdom in the design of the Chesed-Malchut delineation.

Many of us speak of working “toward” Chesed. As if Chesed were a goal. As if Love were an endpoint, a locus to be reached. But this, we should all know, is not the case. Because if you think of it like that, like some sort of rainbow with a pot of gold, you will be chasing it forever and never find it. The happiness of love is realizing that you’ve already got it. There is no rainbow to hold. Seeing it is what makes it exist.

And so you can't move toward Chesed, because it will always get away from you. But you should start with Chesed. In whatever you are doing, it is the thing, the tool, the energy you take with you that guides you and supports you along the way.

And what is the goal? What is the endpoint? The ending is a state of Majesty. A state of Grace. A state of imperceptible wisdom that comes from the union of two halves.

Which brings me to my logic. The day that comes before Machut, Dignity, is Yesod, Bonding. Unity. It is not the dignity that comes first.

And before Bonding, there is Humility, Hod. In order to submit to Bonding - with ourselves, with others, with God - we must first be humble. We must remove our Selves and Our Stories, and seek to listen instead of speak. We must seek to care and understand, not just be understood and cared for.

And what comes before Hod? It is Victory. It is Eternity. It is strength of conduct. Strength of will. Strength to persevere, even in the face of opposition,and to succeed, despite intimations to the contrary. It means not giving in to those volatile forces that tell us we are not big enough, not good enough, not worthy. It means transcending those merciless ideals, and instead having compassion on ourselves, in order to succeed.

Which is why Tiferet comes immediately before. Because in order to find that victorious state, we need to be capable of being compassionate, both of ourselves and others. To look through to others’ needs, and the needs of ourselves, and fulfilling them, not for self-gratification, but for the gratification of the world. It needs its mouth fed and it’s hands filled. And every empty hand and empty mouth is an opportunity for compassionate action in the interests of justice. Like water filling in the cracks.

But having compassion means we also must have restraint. We can’t be compassionate to every extent, or we will overextend ourselves. We need to protect our boundaries, ourselves, or we are only doing a disservice. Even the one we seek to help will be without the blessing they deserve. No one wants to take more than someone can reasonably give. Your loss is the world’s loss, too.

And that restraint, that Gevurah that we practice on our Chesed, on our overflowing, boundless sense of love, is what gives it shape. It gives it motion, form, and definition. It guides it to a specific place, so that, when we are compassionate, and loving, it is with focus, will, and determination, not merely with a neverending feeling of generosity. If there were no boundaries to love, it would mean nothing. If there was no discrimination, no choosing of where it should be, it would be nowhere, because it would be everywhere. It would be too common to be precious. There is a reason not everyone can spin their straw into gold, or why King Midas starved. When gold is ubiquitous, it is not a blessing, but a curse. But not to have it, means you have nothing to start with and nowhere to go. With the seed of Chesed, you can flower in Malchut.

And, once you reach that place, it turns out not to be an end at all, but leads back to the beginning, and opens the door again to a boundless and strong sense of Chesed.

And so, the sequence is not backward at all. It is the wisest way to practice. Because if you start with Chesed, you will finish where you want to be, and in the end find out that where you wanted to be was always where you were, you just needed to see it, and to be on that Journey. And Life itself is the prize you carry.