Parshat Tzav: Making room in the heart
My heart was once just like a home
With many rooms and open doors
And I always let love in
It would change the rooms around and then
Leave them empty
'Til one by one I locked each door
And soon forgot what love was for
But I never gave up hopin'
So I left just one door open
In case you found me
So there's a room in my heart for you
If your trust has been stolen too
If you walk softly on this worn out wooden
floor
And leave behind you the hurt you've had
before
There's a room in my heart for you
We'll paint the walls from blue to white
And set the mood by candlelight
Together we'll keep out the cold
And I'll still be there when we're old
If you'll let me
So there's a room in my heart for you
If your trust has been stolen too
If you walk softly on this worn out wooden
floor
And leave behind you the hurt you've had
before
There's a room in my heart for you
(-Faith Hill)
With terrorists dealing out death and destruction to innocent
civilians here and abroad, recently more than 30 murdered at the Brussels
airport and metro on the same day, with a presidential campaign that has been
charged, emotional, and often challenged the grand spirit of thoughtful debate
laid out by the likes of the great Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas over 150
years ago, we may feel overwhelmed by the amount of loss, by fear of the
unknown, to the point that our hearts feel numb, and so we turn inward, turn up
the music, turn up the TV, drown out and distract ourselves from the world’s
painful noise.
We find in our prayers and in our parasha today a call to action to do just the
opposite.
Take a look with me at the Second paragraph
of Alenu, the section of this daily prayer that turns our attention outward to
the world. We ask God to perfect the
world, that the wicked of the world will turn to God in repentance, that we
will be humble and remember that we are mortal, finite, flesh and blood, each
of us with unlimited potential to do good, each of us a blessing.
While the heinous actions of terrorists such as those who
perpetrated the attacks in Brussels and elsewhere do not deserve an iota of our
compassion, there is still a chance, however slim, that we could influence
those who might turn to terrorism to choose a different path.
Alenu demands from us that we at least pour our hearts out in
this hope, however faint the hope may feel.
Alenu demands from us we leave one door of our hearts open.
Today we read God asks of Moses, “Ve’et kol ha’edah hakhel el petach ohel mo’ed.” Gather the whole community in the tent of
meeting – Now this tent for sure cannot hold the entire nation…right?
The Rabbis see it differently:
The Great Rashi brings down a Midrash, as the Rabbis teach us, the Tent
of Meeting is one of the places where despite its small size it can somehow
accommodate many more people than we think.
What an amazing thought, that the holiest of places, by a
miracle, can make room for everyone, that the Mishkan/Tabernacle/The Tent of
Meeting, the physical and spiritual heart of the nation as we wander the
wilderness, can make room for the entire people – everyone – the good, the
wicked, the repentant, the as yet unrepentant, believers, non-believers,
children, grown-ups, seniors, everyone.
Now the prophet Jeremiah knew, as we do, that, quote, “The
heart is devious or capricious of all things…who can understand it?” (17:9)
Our attention is often short, our ability to process the most
painful news and images is not unlimited.
We have to keep our feet planted on the ground so we can be available to
ourselves and to those we love.
Still, we have more room in our hearts.
When we recite Kaddish today – let’s open up a place in our
hearts for the victims in Brussels, and push back on the fear instilled by
terror, we’ll keep out the cold, and send the love out.
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