 | We've probably heard the aphorism that "the devil is in the details." Leaving aside that classical Judaism doesn't really do "devil," spiritually the emphasis is backwards. Not the "devil" but God is in the details. The sacred inheres in our total showing up to our lives and the details of how we narrowcast our attention – especially during these precious days leading to Rosh Hashanah. |
By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Ki Teitzei 5784 (2024)
Click here for last year's Dvar Torah on this portion, "Lost and Found: Soul Edition"
What do you most keep your eye on these days? I don't mean broadcasts you follow like news or social media, or issues however important. Instead, I mean your "narrowcasts": what details about your daily life and yourself attract your most intense focus?
Some of us narrowcast to physical health – whether one's own or a loved one's health. Some narrowcast to an exercise regimen, or cooking, or planting, or making art. Some narrowcast to career and job tasks. Some narrowcast to raising kids, or caring for elders. Some have intensely focused spiritual practices.
Whatever your narrowcast is, what if architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe (1886-1969) were correct that "God* is in the details"? What if God* is in our narrowcast – our laser focus, our total inter-being with the details of whatever's most important?
Ki Teitzei 5784 (2024)
Click here for last year's Dvar Torah on this portion, "Lost and Found: Soul Edition"
What do you most keep your eye on these days? I don't mean broadcasts you follow like news or social media, or issues however important. Instead, I mean your "narrowcasts": what details about your daily life and yourself attract your most intense focus?
Some of us narrowcast to physical health – whether one's own or a loved one's health. Some narrowcast to an exercise regimen, or cooking, or planting, or making art. Some narrowcast to career and job tasks. Some narrowcast to raising kids, or caring for elders. Some have intensely focused spiritual practices.
Whatever your narrowcast is, what if architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe (1886-1969) were correct that "God* is in the details"? What if God* is in our narrowcast – our laser focus, our total inter-being with the details of whatever's most important?
Theologically, a "narrowcast God*" can seem and feel different from the creator God* of enormity and transcendence. Our awe looking up at the night sky – itself just the tiniest tunnel vision into the mind-boggling vastness of space and time – seems the very opposite of anyone's laser-focus on anything at all.
Even so (maybe precisely so), a spirituality of "narrowcast" – God* in the details – is the crux of this week's Torah portion. Instead of a plot, this week's Torah portion lays out one mitzvah (command) after another on everything from family life to rules of war, how we plant and how we harvest, community hygiene and burying the dead, how we build houses and how we engage in commerce, how we treat animals and how we return lost items, and on and on.
Of Torah's 613 mitzvot (commands), fully 74 emerge from this Torah portion alone – nearly seven times Torah's weekly "average," and far more than any other Torah portion of the year.
Why, and why now at this point in the year?
One reason is about how we show up in the world. In Torah's words (Deut. 22:1): לֹֽא־תִרְאֶה֩ אֶת־שׁ֨וֹר אָחִ֜יךָ א֤וֹ אֶת־שֵׂיוֹ֙ נִדָּחִ֔ים וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ֖ מֵהֶ֑ם הָשֵׁ֥ב תְּשִׁיבֵ֖ם לְאָחִֽיךָ׃ / "Do not see another's ox or sheep and hide yourself from it: surely return it to them." It's not only that we mustn't hide ourselves from it: in truth, we can't. Either our conscience will rouse us, or our uncaring will corrode us. Either way, our kishkes will coax us to "return" – literally, to make teshuvah.
Torah is reminding us that the High Holy Days are fast approaching and that, in a sense, we ourselves are the ox or sheep that wandered off. It's time to return: in truth, we can't hide from ourselves.
Another reason is about what we show up to. This concentration of mitzvot that seem to cover every aspect of life is most relevant precisely in covering every aspect of life. We moderns may have a different take on spiritual commands and the specific subjects they concern, but that's not the point. The point is that, in the vision of spirit, what we do matters utterly: especially now, nothing is unimportant. No moment is unimportant. Nothing that grabs our attention is unable to point us toward what's most important. Indeed, the very fact of our attention is most important of all. God* is in the details – though we tend to sense the sacred only when we totally commit ourselves to being exquisitely aware.
Modern life dulls our awareness in many ways – and yet, this season comes to rivet our focus. If we idle our days, whatever thoughts that might jab us amidst our idleness can point us back to ourselves. If we doomscroll on social media, then it's our anxiety that asks our focus. If our priorities (what we narrowcast ourselves to) don't align with our best selves, then this time of year gnaws at us to shift gears. If we find our attention scattered and not focusing at all, then that itself becomes a sacred message asking our focus. Now matters.
Torah is reminding us to show up to our lives – to our own hearts and souls, to each other, to our community and to society. And Torah is reminding us so precisely now. After all, the details of this moment – how we gauge our attention in this moment, and this moment, and now this moment – are the most important preparation for the High Holy Days that we'll ever have.
What if we lived our lives as if every moment was a whole world pulsating with life and deep meaning, as if the whole world depended on this moment? How about now?
Even so (maybe precisely so), a spirituality of "narrowcast" – God* in the details – is the crux of this week's Torah portion. Instead of a plot, this week's Torah portion lays out one mitzvah (command) after another on everything from family life to rules of war, how we plant and how we harvest, community hygiene and burying the dead, how we build houses and how we engage in commerce, how we treat animals and how we return lost items, and on and on.
Of Torah's 613 mitzvot (commands), fully 74 emerge from this Torah portion alone – nearly seven times Torah's weekly "average," and far more than any other Torah portion of the year.
Why, and why now at this point in the year?
One reason is about how we show up in the world. In Torah's words (Deut. 22:1): לֹֽא־תִרְאֶה֩ אֶת־שׁ֨וֹר אָחִ֜יךָ א֤וֹ אֶת־שֵׂיוֹ֙ נִדָּחִ֔ים וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ֖ מֵהֶ֑ם הָשֵׁ֥ב תְּשִׁיבֵ֖ם לְאָחִֽיךָ׃ / "Do not see another's ox or sheep and hide yourself from it: surely return it to them." It's not only that we mustn't hide ourselves from it: in truth, we can't. Either our conscience will rouse us, or our uncaring will corrode us. Either way, our kishkes will coax us to "return" – literally, to make teshuvah.
Torah is reminding us that the High Holy Days are fast approaching and that, in a sense, we ourselves are the ox or sheep that wandered off. It's time to return: in truth, we can't hide from ourselves.
Another reason is about what we show up to. This concentration of mitzvot that seem to cover every aspect of life is most relevant precisely in covering every aspect of life. We moderns may have a different take on spiritual commands and the specific subjects they concern, but that's not the point. The point is that, in the vision of spirit, what we do matters utterly: especially now, nothing is unimportant. No moment is unimportant. Nothing that grabs our attention is unable to point us toward what's most important. Indeed, the very fact of our attention is most important of all. God* is in the details – though we tend to sense the sacred only when we totally commit ourselves to being exquisitely aware.
Modern life dulls our awareness in many ways – and yet, this season comes to rivet our focus. If we idle our days, whatever thoughts that might jab us amidst our idleness can point us back to ourselves. If we doomscroll on social media, then it's our anxiety that asks our focus. If our priorities (what we narrowcast ourselves to) don't align with our best selves, then this time of year gnaws at us to shift gears. If we find our attention scattered and not focusing at all, then that itself becomes a sacred message asking our focus. Now matters.
Torah is reminding us to show up to our lives – to our own hearts and souls, to each other, to our community and to society. And Torah is reminding us so precisely now. After all, the details of this moment – how we gauge our attention in this moment, and this moment, and now this moment – are the most important preparation for the High Holy Days that we'll ever have.
What if we lived our lives as if every moment was a whole world pulsating with life and deep meaning, as if the whole world depended on this moment? How about now?
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