The snow storm stopped the life of the city almost completely. In those days we lived in walking distance of Philadelphia’s Academy of Music and often sat “up in heaven,” trudging the many levels up to the amphitheatre, known for having the hall’s best acoustic sound, and most significantly, $4 pricing. Below, like tiny specs of awe, would be the most extraordinary conductors and musicians Western civilization had to offer. A surprise came with the stark snowy day, the ticket attendant broke with her usual ritual of a nod upon my arrival. Instead, she beamed a smile and proclaimed: “Good news dearie, today you can sit in the front row since virtually no one has come. And,” she continued her smile now a blaze of joy, “Perlman is here. Can you imagine, out of the whole orchestra, only he made it and he fully intends to perform for those who arrive having braved the storm!”
Some thirty people dot the plush red velvet seats at the front of the stunning Viennese-style concert hall. Thrilled, I slipped into a center seat where it would be possible to witness the great musician, Itzhak Perman, his actual face and to view his every motion. As the lights grew dim, the dull thud of rubber and shuffle of a heavy dragging were amplified to the audience. We rose to our feet to honor the entry, on permanent metal crutches, of Israeli violinist Itzchak Perlman, who contracted polio at age four. A stage hand slipped ahead of him and with dignity and precision placed a solitary chair at the edge of the stage.
As a cone of bright light narrowed in focus upon Monsieur Perlman, he leaned toward us. His words cast a waterfall of mist upon our front row, “How I honor your dedication in coming here tonight.” The woman beside me then turned to her husband and said all-too-audibly, “Oh, my, he’s handicapped.” Violin aloft in one hand, just above us, Perlman adjusted his slack legs and then shifted the violin toward his chin. Before the normally perfect silence that would yield to the first stroke of the mater’s bow, he looked pointedly down at her and stage-whispered: “Look well to your instruments. They are gifts from God.”
“The body is the instrument upon which the soul plays life for God.”
This was my teacher Reb Zalman’s artful rendition of a Hassidic formulation of the biblical teaching that we are created b’tzelem Elohim, “in the image of God.” This aphorism helps us account for why we are able to remember, create, and innovate, to live consciously and partner in the fine-tuning of creation. We have been gifted the proper instrument. A clue to this understanding was transmitted through the generations within the mystical practices of Jewish and Kabbalists, whereby the four letters of the Tetragrammaton, the most sacred name of God would be gazed upon in its vertical formation like the one below.
The experience of the soul’s embodiment has many meditations to accompany it. Here is another based on the same image that is easily guided in a public forum.
1. Rise and stand comfortably with your legs slightly apart.
2. Sense your head as the first letter of the tetragrammaton, the top letter, the yud.
3. Draw God’s love, light, breath, energy – whichever works best for you, into your head with a deep breath, letting your arms bend in receipt toward your chest as you do so.
4. Now, exhale through the letter hey, taking the form of your shoulders and flowing out through your arms which you can let out in a giving of the breath of life back to the trees and plants to breath in.
5. Now bring the love, light, breath energy, up through your center, into your reproductive tract, let move upward, suffusing your digestive system, continue to rise up and fill your heart. Let your shoulders move back slightly so that more of this breath/light/love can expand your heart space.
6. Now, exhale deeply, planting your tree of life firmly in the earth, letting yourself take root and share the light/breath/love/energy of God that connects you to All Being.
7. Repeat this sequence perhaps seven times. It can be done anywhere.
So your body is your Stradivarius, your precious instrument to be kept healthy, a principle to integrate and teach throughout the generations, as we learn in Deuteronomy 4:9, “Only watch over yourself [i.e., your body] and moreover, your soul, lest you forget the things that you saw with your own eyes and these [things you learned] escape your awareness all the days of your life; so make them known to your children and your grandchildren.”
How do we translate this religious obligation into holy, healthy embodied action today?
Remember Leviticus 19:14. “Put no stumbling block before the blind.” Accordingly, inquire as to the dietary needs of those at your table. Is someone a diabetic or a heart patient? An alcoholic? It takes thought to prepare a meal that will bring pleasure to all while refraining from using substances that might derail the health regimens of those with important health considerations.
There is much cruelty involved in food production, both for animals and humans. The Bible teaches us to allow no unnecessary suffering to befall any sentient beings, Exodus 23:5. Accordingly, we must not only worry about dolphin-safe fishing practices and stopping milk-fed veal practices whereby baby animals are confined life-long to tiny cells, we must also inquire into whether laborers involved in the production, transportation, and packaging of food are honorably treated in terms of wages, benefits, hours and physical working conditions.
Aָnd we surely would not want to past by Deuteronomy 20:19-20, tolerate no wanton destruction of the planet. We must take action against pollution caused by the packing and planning practices in our food production system. Toxins are leaching into the soil from which come ingredients for the very staff of life, the bread we eat. And then there is the tragedy of some of the additives. Surely it is a pious mission for every religious person to ensure there is no bovine growth hormone in the milk the world’s children are drinking.
At minimum, in the United States alone, 40,000 people at this very moment are awaiting organ donations to save their lives. Those who have not yet signed organ donor cards choose to transgress four major Divine commands: Leviticus 19:16, you shall not stand by the blood of your neighbor, Exodus 21:19, you shall surely heal and Exodus 23:4, you shall restore. The instrument takes much conscious maintenance. May you be blessed to look to your instrument that you might play life in a key divine!
Learn more about Jewish prayer
from a spiritual perspective in
Meaning & Mitzvah: Daily Practices
for Reclaiming Judaism
through Prayer, God, Torah, Hebrew,
Mitzvot and Peoplehood
