Rebbetzen Tziporah

 Every Stop Matters

Dear friends,

Making a vow is a serious thing. In essence, it is declaring that your word is connected to the Source of all reality. With that in mind, imagine how ridiculous this scene would be:

Suri (a made-up name just for the letter): "Tziporah, I hate being at a simchah when I don't know anyone else who is there. I know you are going to the Nadler's bar mitzvah. Swear that you will be there by 9." She guilts me into swearing, but before we each go our separate ways, she gives me a drink that causes me to forget anything that happened within the last 24 hours. Is a forgotten vow still a vow?

This question can be applied seriously to the most important commitment you will ever make. Before you were born, an angel taught you the entire Torah. When it is time for you to enter the world, you have to make a vow. "Be a tzadik, and do not be a rasha," we swore. "Even if the entire world tells you that you are a tzadik, in your own eyes, regard yourself as a rasha." The angel then hits you on your mouth, and neither the Torah you learned nor the vow is consciously remembered. What is remembered is a quiet inner voice that says, "You're not there yet." You want to be righteous, but you are not yet there. This voice can be one of the greatest forces in your life.

Or the most destructive.

Without Hashem, that voice becomes relentless self-criticism. With Hashem, the same voice hears Him saying, "I created you for more" – who you are today isn't the end.

Parshas Matos tells you about vows. Parshas Masei tells you about journeys. Close to a whole parshah lists the 42 journeys we made in the desert. The Baal Shem Tov would say that these 42 journeys are the story of every life. Every one of us has a place that is barren – a wilderness. We make stops along the way. Some of them are beautiful and fulfilling, and others are not. Every stop matters. You keep moving.

Living with Torah isn't about arriving. It's about the journey and its stops. It's recognizing that you are always in process, always becoming.

Do you ever "get there"? You do, in the ultimate sense. Steve Jobs (not one of the Tribe) put it well. He said, "You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward." The detours are part of the route. The delays are part of the preparation. Failures are often turning points. When you think you have arrived, you may be at the place you have to use as your point of departure, taking you further than you ever imagined possible.

Hashem is with them every step along the way. They moved forward when the Clouds of Glory moved, telling them that this is His will. The various spellings of the letters within Hashem's four-letter Name (Yud, Hei, Vav, Hei) are often used as Kabbalistic formulas to tell you what aspect of Himself He is allowing you to perceive at a given time. For instance, the letter vav can be spelled vav-vav or vav-alef-vav. Thus, each of the alternative spellings gives you a different total in gematria. The Forty-Two-Letter Name is used to hint at the way Hashem "transitions," so to speak, and "moves between worlds."

Some of you may have noticed that one of the deepest moments of "movement" is moving between your ordinary life and the life you live on Shabbos. Some of you may not – it happens consciously or not, but it happens. The short prayer right before Lecha Dodi has seven lines with six words per line, hinting at Hashem's allowing us to move toward Him at these moments of transition.

A much less esoteric forty-two is one that you are familiar with but most likely never gave much thought to (don't worry, neither did I – I saw this in a sefer). There are 42 words in the first paragraph of Shema, the one that tells you how to love Hashem. This is where each stop on your personal journey can take you.

You can love Hashem with your heart, with all of your longings, even when they are misdirected. You can turn them around. With your soul (and it may take some effort to notice its presence in your minute-to-minute rush against the clock), with your resources... when you lie down and hardly feel alive, and when you have the spiritual adrenaline flowing so that you are more awake than awake.

One of the greats who wrote about this with depth and passion was Rebbe Nachman. He would tell you how to make it all work.

"The world is a very narrow bridge.

The main thing, the rule, is not to scare yourself."

(The correct translation is not "not to be afraid at all," but rather "not to scare yourself at all.")

I will be at his tomb tomorrow.

I'll let you know about the journey next week, BEH.

Love,

Tziporah