Ahare Kedoshim
Leviticus 16:1-20:27
Amos 9:7-15
Torah’s wisdom can continue to reveal itself to us again and again. Even the most familiar verse can open new worlds of meaning to us in our lives.
Consider one of the best-known verses in all of Torah, included in this week’s parashah: “Love your neighbor as yourself: I am God” (Leviticus 19:18). In case any of us thought that we had already exhausted the verse’s meaning, consider the following extraordinary piece of commentary:
“The Blessed Holy One says: ‘Whenever you truly love one another, I am God.’ As it were, God asks us, ‘Take Me too into the midst of your relationships'” (Rabbi M. Cohen, quoted in Itturei Torah, vol. 4, p. 115).
What a stunning interpretation of this so familiar verse! How can we ever read the verse in the same way again, having seen it explained in this way?
Cohen imagines the Holy One saying (as if God could speak as we humans speak), “I am God — if and only if you love your neighbor as yourself.” What if we don’t? The answer is terrifying. By this logic, perhaps much of what we see in the world reflects what happens if we do not love another enough; even God’s Presence is compromised.
What is more, this exquisite comment imagines God needing us. Reminiscent of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s classic “God in Search of Man,” for a moment, we catch a glimpse of a God who depends on humanity. What, after all, is a non-corporeal God to do? How can a God without hands or arms or legs do divine work in the world? God, of course, depends on us. But here we see a view of God begging us, pleading with us, as it were, to do the work that God cannot do without our full-hearted cooperation.
If we wanted to respond to God’s plea, as it were, how would we do it? What might it mean to bring God, too, into our relationships?
*Seeing the image of the Divine. It is often said, but not so easy to practice, that we must constantly remind ourselves that the image of the Divine resides in the person before us, and in us. When we are short-tempered, judgmental or blaming with another, perhaps we have forgotten the shimmering likeness of God that is hidden within the person. With the mental note “this is the face of God” guiding us, how differently might we conduct our relationships
*Looking for the good. How often do we find ourselves focused on another person’s limitations? Every human being is limited, and so it is always possible to find what is wrong with another, or with ourselves. But what if we remind ourselves that somewhere inside this person — perhaps veiled by pain or fear or sorrow — lies a wondrous work of nature, a divine creation? Might we see this person differently, speak differently, love differently?
*Cultivating compassion. Our tradition teaches us to regard God as the Master of Compassion, a Power that exemplifies lovingkindness and mercy, gentleness and patience. Taking God into our relationships might mean to act more often from that place of divinity within us, emulating the qualities of the Divine. In so doing, many a conversation, many a relationship, would be transformed.
*Seeing the larger context. How often do we get lost in the crisis of the moment, a difficulty that will invariably resolve itself in time, or that, in the larger scheme of things, is not so very important? Perhaps we ought to more often stop in the middle of such a moment and ask, “How important will this be a year from now, or 10 years from now?” Or, “What might this look like from God’s perspective?”
*God as a Partner. The Talmud teaches that father, mother, and the Blessed Holy One are partners in the creation of a child. Is this not true in all of the relationships that we create? In those moments when we can sense the presence of Spirit in the midst of a conversation, things have already been transformed. If we could more often invite the Holy into the midst of our everyday encounters, we would bring more Divinity into the world, and live with more peace in our own lives.
*The Sanctuary within. For the Chassidic masters, the Torah’s teaching about the mishkan, portable sanctuary, suggests that each of us has a holy place, a Divine Center, deep within us. Many times a day we act from a more superficial place, forgetting the peace, wisdom and generosity that lie at our Center. How different would our relationships with co-workers, friends and loved ones be if we acted, even a little more often, grounded in the holy place inside us?
May this piece of Torah inspire us to live with more love in our lives — for our sakes, and for God’s.