B’chukotai
Leviticus 26:3 – 27:34
“If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments, I will grant your rains in their season, so that the earth shall yield its produce and the trees of the field their fruit.” (Lev. 26:3-4)
Thus promises the Eternal One in the opening verses of Parashat B’chukotai. Often when I read Torah I do a little mental tweaking so that the message can get more firmly lodged in my consciousness. In this case, my version of the opening line would read:
“If your path is imbued with My instructions and your actions remain connected to and flow from your inner Divine source (Mitzvot)….”
Now, the word “commandments” is a legitimate translation of the Hebrew mitzvot in that traditional version, but my understanding of mitzvot has evolved beyond mere “commandments,” to the point where I now see mitzvot as the Jewish path of mindfulness. Perhaps this is in reaction to the mindless performance of mitzvot that defined the Modern Orthodox practices of my teenage years. Back then observance was about habit. Mitzvot were, for me, a series of rituals and prayers or blessings to be done “by the book” even though, by and large, I didn’t understand the reasons behind those practices.
In truth, all of us live habit-filled lives. Perhaps the unavoidable patterns of our “conditioned self” force us to live our lives inescapably following mindless forms of chronic behavior. And if this is the case, why not adopt the ones from our own lineage? In following the mitzvot, we choose one specific form of behavior to navigate the world, a way to live our conditioned life in a way that is as holy and Jewishly defined as possible. The same problem remains, though, because in practicing Judaism this way we continue to be mostly unconscious and habituated, mindlessly acting out our (now Jewish) conditioning, still feeling altogether miserable whenever the world doesn’t seem to follow our own individuated blueprint.
My understanding of mitzvot shifted when I became open to hear a deeper teaching on Exodus 24:7, the passage in which Torah relates the Hebrews’ pledge to God at Sinai: “All that the Eternal has spoken, we will do and we will hear.” Aha! Torah isn’t saying “Follow the mitzvot even if you don’t understand them,” as I thought in my teenage years. Instead, it’s saying “Follow the mitzvot for through their practice you will awaken.” Indeed, the practices themselves have the inherent power to awaken us to God’s Presence moment-to-moment. Through the doing comes the possibility of hearing. The mitzvot are habits to break through habits. They are transformative paths of mindfulness, a discipline for awakening, a way to tear through the blueprint of our conditioning. And so now I define mitzvot as “actions in our life connected to and flowing from our inner Divine source.”
In Judaism, mindfulness practice begins with words of gratitude as we wake up in the morning. It continues as we seek to find one hundred opportunities to bless each day. Think how mindfulness-raising it can be to go through each day alert to the sights, sensations, and experiences that move you to bless a hundred times! We increase our mindfulness when we kiss the mezuzah (actually or virtually) remembering God’s presence every time we cross a threshold in our day; a physical threshold or a life threshold. A mindfulness practice can be as simple as spending a few minutes being aware of the natural flow of our breath moment to moment. Beyond that, our mystics have given us mantras for meditation practice such as “Hineini—I Am here” or “Ein od milvado—There is nothing but That which alone is.” And above all else, Torah has given us the mitzvah of observing Shabbat, of taking a day-long spiritual retreat every week.
In all, the mitzvot in their blessed variety are a powerful discipline for mindful living. They hold the promise of balance and nourishment, of “rains in their season,” of “produce and… fruit,” as our verse so beautifully affirms.