Rabbi Menachem Creditor
Our Parsha contains echoes of the last few weeks. We just finished the book of Shemot/Exodus, and today we begin the book of VaYikra/Leviticus. The end of Shemot is all about the building of the mishkan, and so, true to Jewish tradition, as we go forward I'd like to recognize where we've come from by quoting the final verses of Shemot:
"...When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of God filled the Tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of the God filled the Tabernacle... over the Tabernacle the cloud of God rested by day, and fire would appear in it by night, in the view of all the house of Israel throughout their journeys. (from Ex. 40:33-38)"
So strange that Moses, who has dedicated years to connecting the Israelites to God, can't get in to the very structure he has helped create for that same purpose. And why? Because there isn't room. God's presence is so filling, so "Present" that there just isn't room for anyone - even Moses. What must it have felt like to be him - closed out of the very place he could have received the ultimate vindication, and the deepest source of comfort?
I can't help but think of the Jewish mystical concept of "Tzimtzum," the idea of contraction. Mainstream Kabbalah teaches that in order to create the world, God needed to not be everywhere and everything. How could independent things exist if God were everywhere and everything? And so God pulled back some of God's Self in order to provide physical space and spiritual independence. This is the classic explanation within Jewish mystical teachings regarding free will, suffering, and the very fact that we exist.
I believe that the same model holds true for human relationships. I think of my precious daughter. If I wasn't ready to do Tzimtzum, to contract myself enough to give her the room to make her own decisions - decisions that I might not make or approve of - I shouldn't have had a child. If we aren't ready to do Tzimtzum so we provide the "space" for our partners to act independently from us we shouldn't get married. All relationships are based on Tzimtzum, founded upon the model of sacrificing ultimate control so that another can achieve their own place.
But what do we see in the end of Exodus? There isn't room for Moses because God is SO present, because God does not do Tzimtzum in order to provide space for Moses. And so I ask my question: Was the "Mishkan," the Tabernacle, complete when the last bolt was connected? When the last curtain was hung? Would our Jewish institutions be complete if they were so glorious, so full of God's Presence that there wasn't room for us? Or so full of us that there wasn't room for others?
Look at the very first verse of VaYikra: "God called to Moses and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting... (from Lev. 1:1)" There is a peculiarity to the way scribes write the word "VaYikra"- the letter Aleph is smaller than the other letters. We'll return to the "small aleph" in a little bit. For now we'll look at a different aspect of this verse. In Hebrew the word "call" (VaYikra) seems to mean the same thing as the word "spoke (Laymor)." Let's turn to Rashi's comment on our verse:
"For every thing and for every utterance and for every command a "calling" came first. It is a language of embrace, the language that the helping angels use, as it says, "And one would call ("kara," the same word as "called" in our verse) to the other (Is. 6:3)." But for the prophets of the nations who worshipped the stars and told horoscopes it was revealed to them in the language of impermanence and impurity, as it says "And God manifested God's Self to Balaam (Num. 23:4)."
Rashi explains that the term "VaYikra/Called" actually is God's embracing invitation to Moses, perhaps in contrast to the excluding Presence of God at the end of Exodus. VaYikra's beginning is a message of Tzimtzum, of God's contracting God's Self to make room for another. But look closely at what Rashi is saying. Jewish prophecy is God's embrace, but non-Jewish prophecy (as in the story of the non-Israelite prophet Balaam) is impure. The Hebrew, again, is the center of Rashi's comment. The equivalent text from Numbers that we translate as "manifested" is the word "VaYikar." Notice how similar the word "VaYikar/ God Manifested" is to "VaYikra/God Called."
What is the difference between VaYikra and VaYikar? The letter Aleph- the small aleph.
The difference between being included (Moses) and being excluded (Balaam) is a little Aleph. Whereas in Shemot there wasn't room for Moses, the "small aleph" of VaYikra indicates that God contracted God's self in order to include another. In fact, one of the explanations of the small Aleph is that, originally, the Torah was written without spaces between the words. The aleph became lost between the words. Our small aleph is the result of scribal tzimtzum- the scribes found room to allow a letter to exist.
And so we see that Tzimtzum is the difference between "in" and "out."
This has developed into an important idea in my life and work as a rabbi. A few weeks ago I attended a conference at the Jewish Theological Seminary called "Tse Ulemad: Come out and learn" where gay and straight Conservative rabbis, cantors, educators, lay-people, and students took stock of how the Conservative Movement is beginning to correct the traditional treatment of Gay and Lesbian Jews.
I heard personal stories of those lost to the Conservative Movement. I heard passionate proposals to change the Movement's current stance. I heard thoughtful examinations of traditional text. And I saw one simple idea forming: the request, the need, from these dedicated Jews to the Jewish establishment is to perform an act of Tzimtzum and create a space within for them. That means transforming the Conservative Movement's official position of "welcoming homosexual Jews to our communities" into "recognizing that gay and lesbian Jews can share a sacred love in the eyes of God."
The mishkan wasn't complete until God did Tzimtzum and granted Moses his own place. And my heartfelt plea is that we should recognize that our mishkans, our synagogues and Jewish institutions, will not be complete until we perform acts of tzimtzum to share our space with all those who seek the comforting presence of God.
There is a relevant and beautiful song called "Bilbavi/In My Heart" which I've found deeply meaningful. It comes from the Sefer Chareidim/The Book of the Tramblers, and it speaks to the heart of our issue. Tzimtzum is an act of sacrifice. If you grant someone close to you the right to self-determine then your life changes. If a structure gives new people a place, that structure will change. And structures resist change. Religious structures fear change. But Truth and the pursuit of God require honest and open self-reflection and, sometimes, redirection. Do I give up a part of myself, perhaps a measure of control, by becoming a father? Absoutely. Am I willing? With all my heart.
I'll close with my translation of the words to "Bilvavi." I sing with the hope that in the same intentionality with which we can recognize a place for God's presence we open our arms and synagogues and religious institutions to all who wish to join our relationship with our Loving God. I hope we sing together. And I hope that as we sing recognize that God's act of Tzimstum is meant to be reflected in the ways we decide who is "in" and who is "out."
Are we prepared to make the sacrifice?
"In my heart I will build a dwelling-place
to amplify the Glory of God,
And in that dwelling place I will make
a place for the flowings of God’s Beauty.
And as the eternal light I will take for myself
the fire of the Binding,
And I will offer as the sacrifice my soul
my only soul."
