Balance and Bereishit: the Posture of Our Highest and Best Use October 10, 2015 ~ 20 Tishrei 5776 Rabbi Daniel Cotzin Burg, Beth Am Synagogue Parashat Bereishit
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Balance and Bereishit: The Posture of Our Highest and Best Use October 10, 2015 ~ 20 Tishrei 5776 Rabbi Daniel Cotzin Burg, Beth Am Synagogue Parashat Bereishit How is it that Adam and Eve come to sin in the garden? The Torah tells us it was the serpent (nachash), that most cunning of creatures, who entices Eve – who, in turn, shares the fruit with her husband. And we know the punishment meted out to the serpent: Vayomer Hashem el hanachash...al gechon’cha teileikh, v’afar tochal. God informs the serpent it will be more cursed than any land animal because it will move along the ground on its belly and eat dust. Did you ever wonder why this was the snake’s curse? How was this a change? Did the snake, prior to this moment, have a different posture? Did it not slither? This past week, after yontif, Rob Gludt and I went to see The Walk. It’s a beautifully rendered film telling the story of Phillipe Petit, the French man who, in 1974, walked a high-wire between the newly constructed twin towers of the World Trade Center. Technology has come a long way in film and it’s enrapturing, and more than a bit disconcerting, watching the feat from Petit’s vantage. There he is, 1350 feet high, walking back and forth on a wire above New York City, somehow managing to find and maintain balance. That’s what I’d like us to consider today: balance. What was it about that feat that was so captivating? It was dangerous of course, but I think it was more than that. There’s a moment in the film when one of the characters relates the reaction of spectators. The towers, it seems, weren’t a huge hit at first. Many thought they were plain, even ugly. But Phillipe Petit, they explain, took those monumental steel and glass structures – and gave them life. It was the balance at that height, in those conditions, the sheer nerve to attempt such a thing, but also the skill and grace, that made the feat so transformational for those who saw him that day. If there were particular moments that caused the movie audience to truly gasp, to catch its breath, it was each time Petit placed his balance pole over his shoulders, raised one leg and pivoted, one foot on the wire, changing directions. There’s a Hebrew expression that could apply, al regel achat, “on one foot” which means to summarize, to give a quick explanation of something. It comes from the Talmud story of Hillel, one of the most famous in Jewish tradition. Here’s the text from Mas. Shabbat (31a): There was [an] incident involving a Gentile who came before Shammai and said to him: “Convert me to Judaism on condition that you will teach me the entire Torah while I stand on one foot. Shammai pushed the man away with a building cubit he was holding. [The same man] came before Hillel…. Hillel does convert him. Later I’ll touch on what Hillel says next, because his answer is quite profound: “What is hateful to you do not do to another” – that our primary task is to somehow universalize our particular experience of world, something that seems easy but is extraordinarily difficult. But first, let’s consider why the potential convert asks his question in this way? Because, what he’s really saying is, “Teach me everything there is to know about Judaism quickly; I want the Reader’s Digest version.” And Shammai’s response is not unreasonable. Some of you are in academia. If I came to you and said, “I’ve never been to a class, but give me a diploma which I will accept on the condition that you summarize Art History or Quantum Physics or Cultural Anthropology in a no more than a few sentences,” you’d probably smack me with a ruler too! But that’s not what Hillel does, and because he does, the story becomes a model for Jewish learning – even Jewish living. There are many ways to convey the same sentiment. The man could have said, “Teach me all of Torah before I can count to ten.” He could have said, “Teach me all of Torah in the time it would take to walk across the room and back.” But instead he said, T’lamdeini kol haTorah kulah ksh’ani omed al regel achat, “teach me the entire Torah while I’m standing on one foot.” So think about Phillipe Petit for a moment. There he is consolidating his weight, 400 meters in the air, over an unthinkably narrow wire – on two feet and even on one foot! Let’s try it for a moment. Stand up and, if you’re willing and able, stand on one foot. As you do, pay attention to your body. What’s happening? How do you maintain your balance? Is your posture more erect? I’ve learned a bit about property development in my time at Beth Am. The phrase employed to describe preferable housing and building projects is “the highest and best use.” And that’s the question for us. What is the highest and best use of our bodies? Of our very selves? Because when we stand on one foot, we are quite literally as high as we can get. So here’s what I want to suggest: it's not about Cliff Notes; it’s not about brevity; it's about balance. The story is teaching us how to stand so that we can be intentional about how we walk, how we move in the world. There’s something about being balanced, literally centered, that allows us to hone our thinking and our doing. But it’s also in this posture that we can consider how truly blessed we are. The uprightness of pride …not haughtiness but pride…leads to gratitude. Can you think of other examples from our tradition when we focus on balance? One that comes to mind is prayer. Think about the Amidah. First of all, the Amidah best represents the balance between individual and communal. Traditionally speaking, we do the private Amidah first so that we can effectively participate in the public, communal repetition second. And how do we stand during the Amidah, the central and most intensely individual prayer, of our service? We stand erect and we stand with our legs together. So, now you’re thinking, but why not stand on one foot? And the answer is we do! It says in the Zohar, (Reiya Mehemna, B’Midbar 229b) the primary text of Kabblaah, that we pray with our feet together, like the angels. And how do angels stand? In Ezekiel it says, “v’rag’leichem regel y’shara, their legs were fused into one straight leg.” The Zohar goes on to tell us, “The masters of the Mishnah said that someone who prays must have their feet straight [and together] like the heavenly angels….” And then it tells us God opens the innermost gates for those who prepare their feet by standing in this manner. Rebbe Nachman says, Kol ha’olam kulo, gesher tzar me’od, “the entire world is a very narrow bridge....” Which is to say, it’s a high-wire, and we must get our balance if we are to have any chance of moving forward. But, as I suggested, prayer is first and foremost about gratitude, so before moving anywhere, we stand erect and centered so as prostrate ourselves before God. This is why, says Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, “We bow when we say ‘Baruch/Blessed.’ In this way we express our promise to be disciplined [servants] of God. We stand straight when we say ‘God,’ as if to say that God is not bent, but that He straightens us” (commentary on Siddur, Mosad HaRav Kook edition, pg. 76). This notion of being upright is written into our very Jewish identity, our people’s philosophical DNA. To what was Jacob’s name changed when he wrestled the angel? Yisrael. Ya’akov means heel and akuv means bent. Yisrael means God-wrestler, but pointed differently (Yishar-El) means erect like God or upright toward God. Jacob is humbled in the encounter, he even limps away, but he is ultimately yashar – “erect”, even victorious. In other words, we Jews are always in a process of bending and straightening, standing and moving forward. And if we don’t, if we remain static, egocentric and arrogant, eventually we fall. It says in the Talmud, (Bava Kamma 16a) “The spine of a person turns into a snake seven years after burial, but that only happens to someone who fails to bow during Modim, [the Thanksgiving section of the Amidah]. Rabbi Avraham Chaim Shor, the Torat Chaim, says, “One who maintains an upright posture and does not bow while stating his gratitude is essentially denying any gratitude. We see this,” he continues, “…concerning Datan and Aviram [who support Korach’s rebellion] (B’Midbar 16, 27); they are depicted as standing upright. Similarly, the Midrash depicts the primeval serpent as approaching Eve in an upright posture. In fact, this is why the serpent’s punishment,” says the Torat Chayim, was “on your belly shall you crawl” (Bereishit 3, 14). As Rashi teaches us, it had legs which were removed. We can suggest that this is why the spine of someone who fails to bow down during “Modim” turns into a serpent; he is espousing the philosophy of the primeval serpent from which all…ingratitude follows.” Think about it, the snake has the lowest center of gravity, which means by definition is cannot reasonably claim to be balanced.