Looking through heaven’s eyes

Rabbi Dovid Wineberg

Green and Sea Point Hebrew Congregation

The Holy of Holies in the Bet Hamikdash – the focus of Jewish worship until our present day – has held a certain fascination in world history. Its contents and mode of worship remained a mystery, as no-one aside from the High Priest had permission to enter the threshold of heaven – and only on Yom Kippur.

This week’s parsha focuses on this unique service and details the duties of the Kohen Gadol on this awesome day, including his multiple entries into the Holy of Holies.

For a moment, let’s look through the eyes of this most exalted servant and see what he saw as he parted the curtain. Immediately, he would behold the Ark of the Covenant, which contained the Ten Commandments, although he couldn’t see tablets because they were inside the box. But the Kohen Gadol could see that on top of the Ark were two keruvim, childish cherubic faces – porsei knofayim! – with their wings spread out towards each other.

You see, to look through heaven’s eyes is to behold the spiritual greatness of children – to reclaim your inner child.

Remember when you were little and suddenly you started to cry? And all the adults said: “Ah the baby wants attention.” But you didn’t want attention, you wanted connection. You didn’t like waking up all alone with no-one to touch and hold you; you sought the embrace of love.

But the adults didn’t understand that; they felt safer in the hardened lonely shell of self. And then you grew up and, left alone, you would say to the adults: “I’m afraid.” And they would respond: “Stop being irrational, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

But it was they who were being irrational because you weren’t afraid of the dark, you were afraid of the loneliness and the feeling of being disconnected.

Children are such masters of connection that they never harbour faribles. Remember when in anger you would shout the worst curse you could imagine: “I hate you!” And then five minutes later you were back to your chirpy self, expressing much love? Remember a time when you would choose to be wrong and happy rather than right and miserable?

But then you grew up and the world taught you the meaning of self-importance, self-actualisation and self-indulgence. Now it was more important to be right, even if it made you miserable, as long as the self was protected.

You learned to retreat to the safety of familiarity, even as you forgot the thrill of discovery. You learned that the self doesn’t make mistakes – and certainly won’t admit to them – even as you forgot how often you picked yourself off the floor as you were learning to walk. You were much braver then, but now the self is too fragile to handle such knocks.

We live in an age of unprecedented tools of connection and yet we are the loneliest people in history. Oxford Dictionary’s 2015 “Word of the Year” wasn’t even a word because we’re not talking to each other!

Remember when you were a little kid and you didn’t yet know how to talk, but you sure knew how to communicate! Then you learned to talk, but forgot how to communicate. We learned to give, but forgot how to share. And then you learned how to provide, but forgot how to nurture.

The Prophet Hosea proclaims: “For Israel is but a lad and I love him. It was from Egypt that I called out to my child.”

We have just left Egypt; Pesach is behind us and we are as children on our approach to Sinai. Spiritual greatness – holiness – beckons if you are only willing to part the curtain and peer deeply into your inner child.

If you are willing to spread your wings to another and connect truly and deeply, to take risks as you care for and nurture the other.

On this journey, try looking through heaven’s eyes.

Shabbat Shalom!