Interconnection and Stepping Away

An unusual incense, associated with the high holidays, calls us to recognize — and then to welcome and integrate — the more difficult aspects of ourselves and our communities. Many teachings focus on one of the ketoret‘s components, which is foul-smelling on its own but sweet-smelling in compound: Often this fact is used to call Jews to unity and to remind us that not only can we pray with the wayward among us, and within each of us, but we must. What do we do with this teaching as our institutions collapse around us and our communities struggle to find space for all?

This is part of a series on Summer of Collapse.

This post was substantially updated just before noon ET, following its first posting in the wee hours of Sep 9 (16 Elul 5785), including the addition of the “Seat of Compassion” section and a link to “Stepping Away in Hope and Prayer.”

A few basic texts regarding the ritual incense/ketoret, with its foul-smelling component, chelbenah, are below. Here is an exploration of connections with the season of teshuvah/return.

This Year’s Challenge

In her book, Sacred Therapy, Estelle Frankel describes connections between ketoret and Yom Kippur:

In the mystical tradition, the ketoret was understood to be a symbol of unity and interconnectedness within and among people. According to Jewish law, it had to be made from eleven different spices, including chelbenah, or galbanum. Though chelbenah itself is foul smelling, it was an essential ingredient of the sweet-smelling ketoret offering, for according to legend, when the chelbenah was joined with the ten other ingredients, it actually added sweetness to the ketoret’s sweet fragrance.

The inclusion of the chelbenah in the ketoret suggests that when we are joined together as a community, we atone for one another. Even the sinners and schleppers among us add to the perfection and fragrance of the whole. In commemoration of the chelbenah, on the eve of Yom Kippur prior to the chanting of the opening Kol Nidre prayer, Jews recite the following invocation, which formally welcomes the sinners among them to join in and be accepted back into the community: “With permission of God and the permission of the community, we hereby give ourselves permission to pray alongside the sinners.”

…so, too, according to this way of thinking, each of us must welcome and reintegrate our own inner chelbehah on Yom Kippur. In this interpretation the chelbenah is taken to symbolize the quality or part of ourselves that is least developed and least desirable–our shadow, if you will. To the degree that we deny or reject this part, it remains split off and becomes an adversarial force in our lives. The inclusion of the chelbenah among the sweet spices of the ketoret reaches us that we must integrate our weaknesses and vulnerabilities into the totality of our being. When we do, they can actually add potency to the sweetness of our lives.
— Estelle Frankel, Sacred Therapy: Jewish Spiritual Teachings on Emotional Healing and Inner Wholeness (Shambala, 2005). p.161-162

Much of Sacred Therapy‘s focus here is on self-forgiveness and integrating parts of ourselves that we may have been trying to ignore. But Frankel also addresses what the incense means for us in community:

The vital message…is that no part of the self, nor any individual community member, may be cut off from the whole. In order for us to come into our wholeness, all parts of the self must be held together as one. And when we join together as a collective, something greater constellates than the simple sum of individuals. Joined together, we atone for one another, for what one of us may lack another makes up for, and one person’s weakness may evoke another’s strength. In community, then, we find our wholeness and healing. On Yom Kippur, Jews cease to view themselves as isolated individual persons but as members of an interconnected web, a community in which each person takes responsibility for the sins of the collective….

Yom Kippur is a time when we each gather up the broken pieces of our lives–as the ancient Israelites gathered up the broken pieces of the first tablets–and try to reestablish a sense of wholeness and coherence both as individual people and as a community. Despite whatever has been broken or shattered through our own mistakes or fate itself, Yom Kippur, the day of at-one-ment, gives us a chance to heal and be whole once more.
–Frankel, Sacred Therapy, p.162-3

Trying to reestablish wholeness and coherence as a community is enormously challenging this year, for many reasons. Atonement and healing among Jews around Zionism and the state of Israel may not be possible at all at the present moment. Jews have much work to do, particularly at the new year, to clarify which “we” is meant in our prayers. We must grapple with how we are, or are not, responsible for one another.

The challenges are not small. And there is a strong temptation to cut off what or who seems to be impeding our attempts at coherence. (See also “Repentance, Repair, and Cancellation” and “The Predator’s Tools.”) But ejecting people or defining them out of the community is not necessarily the solution we might like it to be: As Frankel points out, cutting off parts of ourselves and our communities leaves an “adversarial force in our lives.” We might think we’re leaving something, or someone, behind, but our “broken pieces” do not simply disappear. Moreover, the collapse around us and the many pressures on us this year make mending more difficult….meaning we must exercise more caution regarding ruptures.

Coherence and Brokenness

Many “broken pieces,” within ourselves and our communities, result from harsh judgment in place of compassion. Through Jewish teaching, therapy examples, and meditations, Sacred Therapy explores the effort to move from judgment to compassion. (See e.g.,”Finding the Seat of Compassion.”) On the more general topic, she writes:

Unfortunately, many of us spend a great deal more time sitting in harsh judgment (din) than practicing compassion (rachamim) or forgiveness. We are more concerned with what’s wrong with ourselves and others than with what’s right. We obsess about our own imperfections and are all too ready to criticize our friends, family, and associates whenever they fall short of our expectations. When we get stuck in our “judging mind,” life begins to seem like an endless series of disappointments! And when we relentlessly judge and find fault with ourselves and others, we unfortunately often end up worsening the problems we think we are trying to remedy.


…when we support and lovingly care for those who are ill or suffering, we sweeten an experience that would otherwise be harsh and unbearable (din).

Similarly, when we find a way to transform situations of anger and discord between people into harmonious, loving connections, we sweeten the judgments.
–Frankel, Sacred Therapy, p. 188-189, p.196

Frankel notes that work to “sweeten” harsh judgment should not be expected of us when “someone is hurting us or taking advantage of us.” In such cases, she says, it may be necessary to “set firm limits,” instead, at least temporarily (p.197). And yet…

There are, however, many situations in our daily lives when we do have the power to “sweeten” things, particularly in relation to our own harsh judgments about ourselves and others. We also have many opportunities to transform angry and aggressive verbal exchanges into respectful, loving exchanges. We have the power to set the tone of conflicts so that our discourse with others is characterized by mutual compassion and empathy. And ultimately, when we succeed at transforming potentially contentious relations into mutually empathic exchanges, we open up the flow of divine rachamim in our own lives. For as the rabbis said, “According to the quality one uses to deal with others, by that very quality is one dealt with.”*
–Frankel, Sacred Therapy, p.197
*footnote references B. Meg 12b

In some cases, we will decide, at least temporarily, to separate ourselves, as individuals or as subsets of larger communities, from one whole in order to gain wholeness in another. In some cases, the quest for coherence might leave us feeling more torn and lonely than whole. The reminder of the incense, however, is that we actually need one another and cannot atone all alone.

Judging and Sweetening

We know from our own experiences, as well as from midrashic tradition, that pure judgment is not tenable in the long run. Breishit Rabbah 12:15 tells us: “At first God thought to create the world through the quality of judgment (din), but realizing that the world could not endure at this level, God added on the quality of compassion (rachamim).” And yet too many of our communal institutions, and too many of our community expectations are too willing to stay with “judging mind.”

Being quick to judge, while refusing to engage with dissent or difference, fosters a brittle, easily shattered collective. (Again, see We Will Not Cancel Us and discussion here.) Rules and procedures which discourage sweetening leave many, avoidable “broken pieces.” Sacred Therapy suggests that we can re-member the lost and broken bits; we can retrain ourselves to be more compassionate; we can return to ourselves. This is not easy for any individual and harder for a group. But the new year is a reminder that change is possible and that we can transform — or if necessary, step away from — a situation in which breakage is the norm and softening is not valued.

In that spirit, I share the personal, “Stepping Away in Hope and Prayer,” along with more general, warm wishes that we all find — through the final weeks of 5785 and the coming year — better ways to integrate the wayward among us, and within each of us, in our communities, our mutual aid, and our prayers.

Incense rising, just wisps of smoke, cropped from image by József Szabó from Pixabay

Incense rising cropped from image by József Szabó from Pixabay

Texts Regarding Ketoret/Incense

Exodus 30:34-35

And YHVH said to Moses: Take the herbs stacte, onycha, and galbanum [חֶלְבְּנָה, chelbenah]—these herbs together with pure frankincense; let there be an equal part of each. Make them into incense [קְטֹרֶת, ketoret], a compound expertly blended, refined, pure, sacred.

Midrash: Joy (not atonement)

The sin-offering is brought because of sin and guilt; the burnt offering is brought because of a thought in one’s heart; the peace-offerings are brought to atone for violations of a positive commandment, while incense [הַקְּטֹרֶת, ha-ketoret] is brought, not because of sin or transgression or guilt, but only out of sheer joy [ אֶלָּא עַל הַשִּׂמְחָה, elah ‘al ha-simchah]. Hence, Ointment and incense rejoice the heart.
–Midrash Tanhuma, Tetzaveh 15

Chelbenah in Hassidic teaching

Rebbe Nathan Sternhartz of Nemirov (1780–1845) on chelbenah (full text at Sefaria):

This concept of beirur of the good points also relates to the incense-offering, which included among its ingredients the foul-smelling chelbenah. The ketoret signifies finding and refining the good even in Jewish sinners, who are likened to chelbenah. This is similar to what Chazal teach, that “any prayer that does not also include the prayers of Jewish sinners is not a suitable prayer.” For the ketoret dimension of prayer is primarily fulfilled by finding and refining good points even in Jewish sinners, who are represented by the chelbenah.

This is also the significance of the ketoret being comprised of eleven spices—that is, ten spices aside from the chelbenah. These ten fragrant substances represent the Ten Types of Melody, the melodies made by finding and refining the good in Jewish sinners, who themselves signify the eleventh ingredient, the chelbenah.

–Likutei Halakhot, Orach Chaim (morning conduct) 1:5-6

Talmud: Wage Dispute

Babylonian Talmud Yoma 38a speaks of artisans who made the special Temple incense and a wage dispute in which less skilled artisans are brought in but cannot make the incense rise properly, so the original workers are hired back at twice the wage.

Finding the Seat of Compassion

For decades now, I’ve returned frequently to Frankel’s teaching, “Finding the Seat of Compassion,” and highly recommend checking it out and employing it. (Borrow a virtual copy from Archive.org, visit your local library, or get a copy from Bookshop.) Here’s part of the “Seat of Compassion” passage:

“…Whenever you notice that you are stuck in a place of judgment, whether of yourself or of someone else, try to imagine what it would be like if you stepped away from the judging position and viewed the same person or situation from the perspective of rachamim. You can try practicing this as a meditation in which you visualize these two qualities–judgment and compassion–literally as two seats. Imagine yourself getting up and moving away from that seat of judgment and sitting on the seat of compassion….

“…You will be surprised by how many opportunities there are in the course of an ordinary day to come from a place of compassion rather than judgment.”

— Estelle Frankel, Sacred Therapy: Jewish Spiritual Teachings on Emotional Healing and Inner Wholeness. Shambala, 2003. p.205

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Climbing Toward Repair 5781

Yesterday was the pits. In the Jewish calendar, Tisha B’av [the 9th day of the 11th month; July 29-30 in 2020] is the lowest point of “the Three Weeks” of progressively deeper mourning and reading of prophetic chastisements. Today, we begin the slow climb up, through the seven weeks of comfort and Elul’s wake-up calls, toward the new year. Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of the new year, 5781, coincides with Sep 18-20, 2020 in the Gregorian calendar.

The prophetic reading from last week — known as the “Sabbath of Vision” — warns us to take heed NOW in our preparations for the coming holiday season:

Your new moons and fixed seasons
Fill Me with loathing; [this is God speaking]
They are become a burden to Me,
And when you lift up your hands,
I will turn My eyes away from you;
Though you pray at length, I will not listen.
Your hands are stained with crime
I cannot endure them.
Wash you, make you clean,
put away the evil of your doings from before My eyes,
cease to do evil; learn to do well;
seek justice, relieve the oppressed,
judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.
“Come, let us reach an understanding, —says the LORD.
Be your sins like crimson, They can turn snow-white;
Be they red as dyed wool, They can become like fleece.”
– Isaiah 1:14-18

It won’t be enough to mark the high holidays, recite the proper words, hear the shofar [ram’s horn], and skip some meals. None of that, by itself, will create change, for us or for the wider world. So, now is the time to reflect and prepare, to move from the mournful “How?!” of Lamentations, read on Tisha B’av, to the “how?” of individual and collective action to repair our relationships and the world around us.

For white Jews in particular, now is the time — we have seven weeks beginning today — to redouble our efforts to face our history, our role in systems that uphold white supremacy, and the work ahead of us in dismantling those systems.

For each of the weeks and days ahead, let’s commit to learning and building toward #Repair5781.

Visit Repair5781 Page for some resources.

To open, moving “days between”

In her The Days Between, Marcia Falk writes of the “We cast into the depths” declaration of Tashlikh, the Rosh Hashana afternoon ritual of symbolic sin/crumb/twig tossing: “We seek in this declaration to free ourselves from whatever impedes our moving into the new year with clarity, lightness, and hope.”

In addition, I suggest, we need to look at where we might be responsible for impeding anyone else’s movement, clarity, lightness, or hope — and prepare to open that blockage wherever possible.

Open, moving “days between” to all,
followed by a good, sweet, and flowing 5776

WattsTashlikh

The Days Between: Blessings, Poems, and Directions of the heart for the Jewish High Holiday Season. Marcia Falk. (Waltham, MA: Brandeis University Press, 2014)

Past, Present and Future in Teshuvah: Amichai, Zelda and the Pit

…The past is not a piece of
jewelry sealed in a crystal box
nor is it a snake preserved
in a bottle of formaldehyde—
The past trembles within the present
when the present falls
into a pit the past goes
with it —
when the past looks
toward heaven all of life
is upraised, even the distant past.
–Zelda, from “That Strange Night” (full text, notes)

The Pit

In a famous midrash, Joseph and his brothers return to Canaan to bury their father, and Joseph notices, by the side of the road, the pit where his brothers threw him decades before. Watching Joseph look into the pit, the brothers worry. They do not believe Joseph has forgiven their past deeds and continue to fear recriminations.

While the brothers in the midrash are fretting, however, Joseph recognizes the pit, despite its painful associations, as the source of all that happened to him later: his incarceration in Egypt, eventual rise to power, marriage and children; and, most importantly to the Genesis story, his ability to help his family when famine strikes their homeland.

Avivah Zornberg writes:

[Joseph] has gone to the trouble of returning to that place of his terror in order to bring closure to the old narrative. He makes the blessing for a personal miracle, claiming the site of his trauma as the site of redemption. By this act, he rereads the pit as a space of rebirth, transforming pain into hope. The grave has become a womb.
The Murmuring Deep: Reflections on the Biblical Unconscious, p.319; Continue reading Past, Present and Future in Teshuvah: Amichai, Zelda and the Pit

Remember Miriam: Process & Patience in Parashat Ki Teitzei

“Remember what your God YHVH did to Miriam on the journey after you left Egypt.” — Deuteronomy/Devarim 24:9 — What is this personal remembrance doing in the midst of a portion which consists largely of commandment after commandment? And what might it tell us, in these days leading up to the high holidays, about memory and return ([teshuvah])?
Continue reading Remember Miriam: Process & Patience in Parashat Ki Teitzei

You Will Gather Me In: Fall Holiday Prayer Link

Psalm 27 is filled with foes and fear, betrayal and destruction. Many teachers suggest that the foes are (also) within us, as we struggle with the work of teshuvah [repentance, return] in the days leading up to Yom Kippur. This is the perspective of Joseph Rosenstein, translator of Siddur Eit Ratzon,* who has wars raging “around me, and within me” in verse 3 and turmoil “around and within me” in verse 11.

Psalm 27 is also full of comfort, particularly shelter: “Adonai is the strength of my life” (27:1), despite raging wars “You are with me” (27:3), God offers a “sukkah [shelter] during terrible times,” a tent for hiding from disaster (27:5), and “will always gather me in” (27:10). While God may provide shelter for the lost and frightened, however, the real lesson of Psalm 27 seems to be that we have to learn to ask for directions.

A powerful plea for permanent shelter — “only one thing I ask…to dwell in the house of Adonai all the days of my life” (27:4) — is answered with the promise of perpetual instruction (27:10-11):

Though my father and mother will leave me [ki avi v’immi azavuni]
You will always gather me in [v’Adonai yaasfeini]

Teach me Your way, Adonai [horeini YHVH darkhekha]
guide me to walk straight on Your path, [u’n’cheini b’orach mi-shor]
despite all the turmoil, around and within me [l’maan shor’rai].

Continue reading You Will Gather Me In: Fall Holiday Prayer Link