Silent Work – Torah Portion Vayakhel –

The Silent Work – Vayakhel 2022

Preface 25 Feb 22 – for the commentary on the Torah portion, see below:

With the Russian invasion of Ukraine, we are again faced with core problems and questions of the human condition. We are faced with another egregious example of aggression and violence as a way solve a supposed problem. We are faced with the question of how to respond to such aggression and violence.

I’ve read much commentary on what is happening in Eastern Europe. The best commentary evinces a good grasp of Eastern European history and culture. People ask me what I think. I think without a massive commitment to a war of unthinkable proportions, there is little that any nation can do to persuade Putin to cease and desist. My heart breaks for Ukraine, just as my heart has broken in recent years for Syria, Lebanon, for parts of Africa, Myanmar, the Uighurs, North Koreans and more broken people and places than I can count.

When Shabbat comes, I force myself, for one-seventh of the week, to turn my focus away from the troubles of the world that I cannot directly influence in the next 24 hours. The troubles will still be there Saturday night after sundown.

I focus on a different kind of trouble, the kind that arises in my life as rabbi nearly every day, at least several times a week:  some person in distress, some family in crisis, someone grieving or hurting. I address things one-by-one. When Shabbat comes, I ask myself: Is there something I can say that will impart some aspect of the depths wisdom that can help us reduce suffering and, as much as we can, increase love, justice, truth and beauty, the good, the Holy, and knowledge of the Divine.

The wisdom traditions that I tap into, including the Jewish wisdom tradition, are inexhaustible in addressing the potential in the human condition.

For this Shabbat, through my teachings on Torah portion Vayakhel and Shabbat Shekalim, I want to tap into the mystical side of our wisdom tradition – hearing the silent speech of God, and how listening to this great and holy silence can help us in the work building and rebuilding our inner lives.

Shabbat Shalom, and hope to see you online.

Rabbi Finley

The Silent Work – Comment on Torah Portion Vayakhel

There is a well-known rabbinic commentary on the giving of the 10 Commandments, narrated in Exodus chapter 20. The commentary does not stand up to scrutiny. Think of it as a poem. Here is my paraphrasing.

When God began to speak the 10 Commandments, the people said “This is too much to bear. Just speak the first commandment, and let Moses tell us the rest.”

If God would speak to you, say a few things that you must know and must do, and a few things you must never do, do you know in your heart of hearts what God would say? Could you bear it? We might say, “Please just keep it brief.”

God begins to speak only the first commandment. The people say, “This is too much to bear. Just speak the first word of the first commandment, and let Moses tell us the rest.” Even that first commandment was too much. Not the content of the commandment, perhaps, but the fact that the heart of the universe peered into your heart and had something to say.

You see where this is going. God began to say just the first word of the 10 Commandments, “Anokhi,” “I.” The people said, “This is too much to bear. Just say the first letter.” God’s saying “I” implied a “You” coming up next. The people weren’t ready for an “I and You” moment with God.

The first letter of the first word of the 10 Commandments, “Anokhi,” is the silent “aleph” – not “ahh” – just nothing. Aleph is a placeholder for a vowel. We assume that God articulated the silent aleph. The story ends here.

What happened? God communicated to the people the silence before speech. According to the story, Moses hears the rest, and then God writes the words on stone tablets. Moses is to deliver this petrified speech to the people.

Last week’s Torah portion, Ki Tisa, tell us how that went. Not well. The morning that Moses was to arrive, the people broke bad. They had Aaron form the Molten Calf. According to Exodus chapter 32, they danced and frenzied and worshipped it.

I don’t buy that. I don’t think they worshipped the Molten Calf. I think they needed to do something, anything to get that silent aleph out of their heads. That silent aleph was driving them crazy.

The story in Exodus 32 tells us that Moses smashed the petrified commandments, thinking they didn’t deserve them, that they had committed apostasy. God backed Moses up. I think Moses and God, as presented in this story, were too angry to understand what was really going on. Like the speech of God engraved on the Tablets, the people were petrified, avoiding in the extreme, doing anything not to face their thoughts and feelings.

I don’t think the people were against the 10 Commandments. The people didn’t actually know what the commandments were; Moses hadn’t told them yet. I don’t even think the people in this story thought very much about what the commandments contained.

I think they just couldn’t stand being reminded of the silent aleph. That silent aleph spoke eternity. Everything that could be known and cannot be known. All being and all non-being. God’s being, communicated in the Un-sound, the No-thing. Perhaps they thought, in retrospect, they should have just listened to what God wanted to say. Listening to the silence was far more difficult than they could have imagined.

Here is a thought experiment. Think of someone that you love or loved, at least theoretically. Imagine sitting across from them, looking at each other’s eyes. Blink and breathe, that’s it. No speech. Just the presence and the eyes. In this thought experiment, do it for four minutes straight. Try it imagining it.

You will see each other’s souls. You will blink your way into the depths of their soul, into knowing God, the eternity filled silence of God. Now imagine you and this other person are being ordered to this, but you have this one out. If it becomes too uncomfortable, you can just go into the next room where a party is happening. Drinking, dancing. A calf-shaped piñata.

God wanted us to look into God’s eyes and God’s heart. “Don’t follow your own eyes and hearts after which you go astray,” God would later say to the people. “Just for four minutes, set your eyes and heart upon me.” The people chose the party option.

Last week’s Torah portion ends, in Exodus chapter 34, with an anything but clear reconciliation, as most reconciliations are. Here is the essence. The commandments were petrified onto new tablets. Moses brought them down the mountain. He explained everything. His face radiated. People were afraid to look at him. He put on a veil, as did Reverend Hooper in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s story. The people listened.

How had the people changed? Here is how the ancient rabbis saw it.

Our Torah portion, Vayakhel, begins in Exodus chapter 35 with Moses assembling all the people. The ancient rabbis say the narrative at the end of chapter 34 and the beginning of chapter 35 is a little out of order. (The ancient rabbis thought much of the Torah was out of order. It was their job to order the great disorder.)

The ancient rabbis said that when Moses came down the mountain, first Moses assembled all the people and then told them what exactly was up. In our Torah portion, Vayakhel, the first thing mentioned when Moses is un-petrifying the commandments is the Sabbath.

Why could they listen this time? The way the ancient rabbis tell it, the people changed because they decided to. They sat quietly the whole day, waiting. They decided ahead of time: No drinking, no eating, no dancing, no Molten Calf. The ancient rabbis say that in order to be present to the Presence when Moses came down the second time, the people spontaneously invented Yom Kippur.

(Allow me a moment to bow my head in deep reverence and respect for the brilliance of the ancient rabbis.)

In my telling, they decided to place their eyes upon God, eyes meaning the perceptive apparatus comprising their hearts, souls and might, for the full four minutes.

They breathed the silent aleph in this Sabbath for the soul, and then got busy building the Mishkan. All you could hear was the work. The people didn’t talk much that day.