“You do not know what spirit you are of…” (Luke 9:55). Yeshua’s words imply that each of us has the responsibility to know ourselves (γνῶθι σεαυτόν), and to learn to endure (and overcome) the natural motives and focus of our hearts. We discover the truth of our spiritual condition in the midst of our daily frustrations, as we experience conflict, opposition, and the inner groan that arises from pressure and disappointment. Spiritual growth means learning to transcend our negative reactions, to stop cursing our conflicts, and to awaken to the blessings that surround and pervade our way.
God’s grace enables us to open our eyes so that we may “choose life and live” (Deut. 30:19). Our daily struggle with sin reveals the contradiction between the ideals of our faith and the spontaneous reactions of our heart…. We live in between the “is” and the “ought,” the real and the ideal (though often we deny one or the other). The impulse to despair, to be angry, to complain and curse our experience can be transformed into an opportunity to pray, to ask God for help, and to refocus on what is real.
This is the “hidden blessing” (ברכת סוד) of our troubles. When we learn to surrender to God’s Presence, we can breathe in his peace and love, despite the grief we encounter over ourselves and others. When we come to the light, and do not deny the truth about our condition, we can honestly ask the LORD for healing (Heb. 4:16). When we seek for the good – and even bless the struggle – we express our trust that God will use our sorrow to help us grow and to bring beauty from our ashes (2 Cor. 7:10). Hashivenu! “Turn us back to you, O LORD, and we shall be turned…”
When Moses proclaimed the good news of God’s forthcoming redemption for Israel, the Torah states that the people could not listen because they were “short of breath” (Exod. 6:9). Interestingly, this phrase (i.e., mi’kotzer ru’ach: מִקּצֶר רוּחַ) can also mean “lacking in spirit,” as if in a paralyzed state of hopelessness. But how did the people become so downhearted? Had they forgotten the promise given to Abraham (Gen. 15:12-14)? Had they disregarded Joseph’s final words (Gen. 50:24-25)?
A message of teshuvah from our Lord: “What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray” (Matt. 18:12-13). Though it involves sorrow, and the pain of being lost, repentance is ultimately about finding joy, and when we return to God, we have reason to rejoice. The Good Shepherd says, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost. Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Luke 15:6-7). The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost: “For thus says the Lord GOD: Behold, I myself will search for my sheep and I will seek them out… I myself will be the Shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the banished, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the sick…” (Ezek. 34:11,15-16).
The Scriptures define “man” as the creation of God, a union of body and soul, that is, a unity of physical and spiritual elements, as it is written: “Then the LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground (adamah: אֲדָמָה) and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life (nishmat chayim: נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים), and the man became a living soul” (Gen. 2:7). The miracle of creation means that God imparted his own neshimah (נְשִׁימָה), his own “breath,” to give life to the man, who was named “Adam.”
Have you ever considered what the “self” really is? Most people tend to think of it, I suppose, as a conscious and emotional “center” of experience that is distinct from others and that has a sense of continuity through time and place. However, the self (or soul) has the ability to “transcend” itself, that is, to become conscious of itself, and this sets up an inner “dialog” within that enables the self to examine its own thinking, or to regard itself in relation to itself…. In this connection Soren Kierkegaard wrote of two types of “despair,” by which he meant a condition of being wrongly related to your self. First, you can despair by rejecting (or denying) the self, and second, you can despair by elevating and exalting your self. In the first case the self is “lost” or abandoned by various forms of escapism; in the second case, the self is “idolized” and given god-like prerogative; in either case, however, the self is in despair because it is not grounded in the truth of reality, since there can be no true “self” apart from relationship with God who is the ground of all being…
Since we will be reading the Torah again for another year soon, it is worthwhile to remind ourselves about how the Torah itself begins… In this connection we note that it speaks from an omniscient, “third person” perspective. When we read, “In the beginning, God (אֱלהִים) created the heavens and the earth,” we must ask who exactly is speaking? Who is the narrator of the Torah? The next verse states that the Spirit of God (רוּחַ אֱלהִים) was hovering over the face of the waters (Gen. 1:2), followed by the first “direct quote” of God Himself: i.e., יְהִי אוֹר: “Let there be light” (Gen. 1:3). The creative activity of Elohim (God) and the presence of Ruach Elohim (the Spirit of God) are therefore narrated by an omniscient Voice or “Word of God” (i.e., Davar Elohim: דְּבַר הָאֱלהִים). Obviously the Spirit of God is God Himself, just as the Word of God is likewise God Himself, and therefore the first verses of the Torah reveal the glorious nature of the Godhead (i.e., hashilush HaKadosh: השילוש הקדוש). God is One in the sense of echdut, “unity,” “oneness,” and and so on, though not “one” in the monistic sense of a solipsistic mind (νοῦς). God is beyond all theological predications: there can be no sense of “person” apart from relationship, and therefore God’s Personhood entirely transcends all our finite conceptions – and yet God forever is One….
“Choose life that you may live.. ” (Deut. 30:19). The most significant question God asks is whether you want to live or not. Albert Camus wrote, “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy” (Myth of Sisyphus, 1942). Camus’ comment is not at all original, since this is also the ultimate question of theology as well. Do you want to live? Will you believe? Will you choose life and turn away from self-destruction? The Spirit of the LORD calls out: “Choose life that you may live…”
ding for this week, 
God gives us special graces, especially in light of the passing of days, with thwarted hope, aching bones, and inner keening for lasting deliverance. This gift of despondency helps us to awaken and to reach out to find the Real, the True, the Eternal. Learn to wait; ask God for the wisdom of patience. Between acceptance and anxiety, always choose acceptance. Find hope while waiting…
You may sometimes struggle with your faith — not by questioning whether Yeshua is the Savior who died for your eternal healing, but in an hour of testing, when you feel exhausted by pain, when you pray for relief, seeking God in your cries and tears, but the pain continues, and then you are left rationalizing why you were denied your supplication, why your suffering has been prescribed — for surely, you believe, God can heal you by simply saying the word – and then you wonder to what extent you need to be broken in order to be fully remade… As C.S. Lewis once said, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be” (Letters of C.S. Lewis, 1964). There is a trust issue in suffering, and an intimacy that comes through its fires. As Kierkegaard reminds us, “It is one thing to conquer in the hardship, to overcome the hardship as one overcomes an enemy, while continuing in the idea that the hardship is one’s enemy; but it is more than conquering to believe that the hardship is one’s friend, that it is not the opposition but the road, is not what obstructs but what develops, is not what disheartens but ennobles” (Four Upbuilding Discourses, 1844).