The “I”

     Jewish mystics say that all of Creation began with a pintele, a single point of light that issued forth from the Infinite. This is what the Torah means when it states that God’s first words of creation were “Let there be light.” The mystical understanding of this moment is intriguing. Mystics call the infinite God, the God beyond knowing, Ayin which means “No Thing.”

     When Ayin determined to create the universe, more than a point of light came into being. For, in that instant, through the creation of light, God expressed into the universe something which had never existed before, God’s will.

     Now the mystics like to help you imagine the process of the creation of light as a progression.The word Ayin, “No Thing,” is made up of the Hebrew letters aleph, yod, and nun. When light was created, these same three letters spelled out a new word: aleph, nun, yod -- the word Ani, the Hebrew for “I.” On the far side of the light, God always continues to exist as Ayin, as “No Thing.” But, on our side of the light, God now exists as a personality, a God that we can relate to, a God that we can pray to, a God that we can address, a God who is pleased by us and suffers with us, and a God that has mercy and justice for us in equal measure.

     The portion called Eikev, which we read this week, tells us that everything depends on what we do. And there is a mystery and a great secret in this message, too. It means that we must be like God. We must seek to send out light where there is darkness. It is in the process of improving the things around us that we develop our own “I.” Since everything depends on what each of us does in this world, we are acting in God’s image when we express our “I,” our individuality. If we do nothing to help those around us, nothing to improve the world into which we are born, we remain unknown -- unknown to others and unknown to ourselves. Only if we reach out and act in the world, the way God sent forth the single point of light, do we express our personhood.

     Forty years ago,on July 20, 1969. an enormous effort undertaken by thousands of human beings working together as a giant team, came to fruition. Two men stepped out into the light and walked on the moon. Neil Armstrong, who came down the ladder first, spoke a line that he had rehearsed a thousand times, “That’s one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind.” In a sense, every person in the United States had taken part in this enormous effort. A significant portion of the Gross National Product of the United States for a decade had been poured into making this moment possible. It was more than a giant leap for “mankind.” It was a giant transformation for everyone in the United States, for the thousands directly taking part in the space program, and for the three astronauts brave enough to undertake the journey for us. The space program expressed our will being imposed on the universe. It took our nation from a “no thing” in the space race to the “I,” the personality in the center of the space race, a place we have maintained ever since. There are two close comparisons: two times that an entire nation entered into such a contract and devoted so much of their resources over such a long time to create a new thing for the whole of humankind.

     The first of these was the creation of the pyramid. The object was to create an elevator to the heavens, a smooth path that would lead the soul of the Pharaoh directly upward and focus his energy so that he would represent the glory of the Egyptian people to the rest of mankind. Based on the archaeological evidence, it took Pharaoh Snefru three (and, perhaps, four) attempts to finally create the first perfect pyramid. So much of the Gross National Product of ancient Egypt was invested in the building of the pyramids that Snefru actually bankrupted the country and it was almost a century before Egypt recovered. Now, all this took place in the 24 years of Snefru’s reign, around 2600 years BCE or four thousand six-hundred years ago. When we think of the ethos, the personality of ancient Egyptians, the pyramids stand out as the ultimate expression of their personality as a people.

     The Israelites, who came to Egypt more than a thousand years after the pyramids were built, encountered a people who had glorified death with their highest achievement and still continued creating lavish tombs and temples for their Pharaohs, though unable to equal the pyramids in wonder. The Israelites entered into a very different contract and endeavored in a very different realm.

     No other nation has ever devoted such a concerted effort to create a history of its relationship with God. We know from references in the Bible that significant amounts of time and effort, and national product, were expended in this effort by every king from the time of either David or Solomon. Like the pyramids of Snefru, the written Torah, the first completed expression of Israel’s national effort laid the groundwork for an even greater effort. The Israelites began exploring the spirit of our relationship with God in the tenth century BCE or three thousand years ago. But like the moon for modern NASA, the Torah was not the last step for man, not even the last giant leap for mankind.

     The Israelites went on to produce the Talmud which developed through the course of six hundred years of investment and effort, the Midrash which developed through the course of eight hundred years, the Law Codes which developed through three hundred years, and Jewish mysticism which has developed through its many stages for more than two thousand years. All of this was an attempt to express the “I” of being Jewish.

     The ancient Egyptians glorified death and, fittingly, they no longer exist. But you can feel proud of being an American and participating in the awesome effort of landing a man on the moon and exploring Mars and exploring the universe -- all of which expresses our “I” as Americans. And you should be equally proud of being a Jew and participating in the longest unbroken effort to learn to emulate God, to be holy as God is holy, and to develop a moral personality, one that expresses both mercy and justice -- all of which expresses our “I” as Jews.

     It is the Torah and the Talmud and the Midrash and the commentaries, and the Codes, and the philosophies of Judaism that came as a result of our encounter with that single command of God, “Let there be light.” And, in that command, as the mystics teach us, is that other command, “Bring yourself into being,” be a personality that speaks well of yourself to others and to yourself, be an “I” that is worthy of being. That must be the greatest of all giant leaps for mankind. And let us say: Amen.