Bamidbar: In the wilderness
Saturday, May 18th, 2013 01:20 pmBamidbar was actually last week's Torah portion, not today's, but this is a theme that's been much on my mind the past couple weeks, and then it was borne out further as follows:
This week, I actually managed to drag myself to shul for the 2nd morning of Shavuot. This was a bonus in a couple of ways: reading the Book of Ruth, and also they happened (presumably due to Yizkor) to be doing ASL interpretation during services that day, and I always find that fun and interesting (apart from having a mild crush on the guy who runs the program, but anyway).
In the rabbi's sermon, he started off asking: Why did the b'nei yisrael have to go to the wilderness in order to receive the Torah? What is the connection between wilderness and revelation? And he brought in a concept from the Midrash, which connects it to the notion of hefker, which is a Talmudic technical term meaning "ownerless", denoting a thing that is up for grabs -- like an item of lost or abandoned property, or like the dust of the earth. And apparently the Midrash says "Anyone who does not make himself hefker [open to all] like a wilderness cannot acquire wisdom and Torah." (Bemidbar Rabbah 1:7) You have to go into the wilderness, unmoor yourself, in order to become vulnerable to the wide spectrum of possibility... to make room for the revelation.
... And that's exactly what I have been feeling the last week and a half. Ownerless. But strangely liberated. Like there are suddenly a hundred possible paths, all of which will lead to good things. Expansive. Sometimes hit with torrents of feeling, yes... but mostly, fundamentally, at peace.
So yeah, it was one of those laser-targeted moments. You know it's reached me when I am sitting there in shul with tears streaming down my face... and in a cleansing way, not a bitter way. Somehow Rabbi Sebert manages to do that to me a lot.
After the service, I saw my friend C (the one who is
justom's family friend and brought me there in the first place), and when she said "How are you?" I said, "Hefker." It took a minute to get the point across ("Wait, you didn't lose your job?" "No..."), but she got it. And that was helpful too.
( Also, to answer the #1 FAQ, yes, I am staying in NYC for at least the next several months. )
Meanwhile, I signed up for a six-week Russian class, Tuesday nights starting June 4. And I'm also planning to try to make contra dancing tonight. (Though of course, I still haven't managed to see Iron Man 3 either. Sigh!)
ETA, 6/27/2013: In thematically related news, this article (which I first saw closer to its original post date, at which time it was at least equally relevant) just floated back up to the top of my Facebook feed, h/t
shadesong. Yeah. This. Also.
This week, I actually managed to drag myself to shul for the 2nd morning of Shavuot. This was a bonus in a couple of ways: reading the Book of Ruth, and also they happened (presumably due to Yizkor) to be doing ASL interpretation during services that day, and I always find that fun and interesting (apart from having a mild crush on the guy who runs the program, but anyway).
In the rabbi's sermon, he started off asking: Why did the b'nei yisrael have to go to the wilderness in order to receive the Torah? What is the connection between wilderness and revelation? And he brought in a concept from the Midrash, which connects it to the notion of hefker, which is a Talmudic technical term meaning "ownerless", denoting a thing that is up for grabs -- like an item of lost or abandoned property, or like the dust of the earth. And apparently the Midrash says "Anyone who does not make himself hefker [open to all] like a wilderness cannot acquire wisdom and Torah." (Bemidbar Rabbah 1:7) You have to go into the wilderness, unmoor yourself, in order to become vulnerable to the wide spectrum of possibility... to make room for the revelation.
... And that's exactly what I have been feeling the last week and a half. Ownerless. But strangely liberated. Like there are suddenly a hundred possible paths, all of which will lead to good things. Expansive. Sometimes hit with torrents of feeling, yes... but mostly, fundamentally, at peace.
So yeah, it was one of those laser-targeted moments. You know it's reached me when I am sitting there in shul with tears streaming down my face... and in a cleansing way, not a bitter way. Somehow Rabbi Sebert manages to do that to me a lot.
After the service, I saw my friend C (the one who is
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
( Also, to answer the #1 FAQ, yes, I am staying in NYC for at least the next several months. )
Meanwhile, I signed up for a six-week Russian class, Tuesday nights starting June 4. And I'm also planning to try to make contra dancing tonight. (Though of course, I still haven't managed to see Iron Man 3 either. Sigh!)
ETA, 6/27/2013: In thematically related news, this article (which I first saw closer to its original post date, at which time it was at least equally relevant) just floated back up to the top of my Facebook feed, h/t
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)