Spring and the Moon of Liberation

Monday gratefuls: Accepting our own power. Prostate cancer, my teacher. Purple iris for Kate. Stargazer lilies and gladiolus.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Talmud Torah

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Holding my Tanakh, I study. This week: Leviticus 12:1–15:33. Walking with Shadow, I study grasses, moss, and spring ephemerals. Driving to an appointment, I pass the Hogback divide, learning of its most ancient origins—older than the Rockies. I cannot move without study. Without learning.

Tomorrow Mussar MVP comes to my house. Tara, Rich, and Marilyn will handle food and setup. They offered to come to me. Going out with head drop—onerous. Their kindness makes me happy. On Zoom: no hugs, hearing difficult, distance realized. In person: hugs. Easier hearing. Distance closed.

Mussar, according to Rabbi Yalanter (19 c), is “hot” study; Torah study is “cool.” It reminds me of Marshall McLuhan: TV as hot media, print as cool. In Mussar I open my lev, discovering how the middah of patience lives within me. Do I veer into impatience? Or drift toward indolence and apathy?

Around the table we will go, telling stories on ourselves—sometimes affirming, sometimes confessing what needs attention.

For example: standing in a grocery check-out line. After unloading her two carts, the woman ahead of me remembers the lower rack. Do I sigh? Scowl? Or reach down and help retrieve the remaining items?

Rabbi Jamie might say: we change our behavior in small increments. Advance your practice of patience by recognizing annoyance, yet choosing not to display it. That is enough. One moment, one incident, a response that feels better. Repeat.

Various lists of middot circulate online. Here are two: Jewish Camp and the Forty-Eight Mussar Middot. On neither list does Talmud Torah appear.

It fits, though, for one excellent reason: without study, there is no Mussar.

Yeshivot—men and boys davening as they argue. The angel at the Jabbok Ford. Is it God? Is it not? Isaac? Not Isaac. Who, then? I believe the angel is an angel—a messenger. Also a direct representative of God.

That is the cool, analytical version of Talmud Torah.

Mussar begins at the gateway to the soul: anavah, humility. Do I speak too often, steering the conversation toward my own (wonderful) insights? Do I remain silent, convinced my ideas fall short? Or do I listen carefully, speak concisely, and choose my moment with care?

In Judaism without Tribalism, Rabbi Rami Shapiro suggests Jews have two missions: tikkun and teshuvah. For my final paper, I added a third—Talmud Torah. It undergirds the other two.

Tikkun, the work of justice, requires careful attention to the realities of our world. It demands that we not look away. This is analogous to the cool study of Torah.

Teshuvah, on the other hand, requires hot study. What in my recent life calls me to return to the homeland of my soul? Where have I missed the mark?

Both require study.

I sit.

Reading.