Once upon a time, a computer programmer drowned at sea. Many were on the beach and heard him cry out, “F1! F1!”, but no one understood.
Of course, the F1 key on the computer is the code for “help…”
Customer: “I can’t seem to connect to the Internet.”
Tech Support: “Ah, right. What operating system are you running?”
Customer: “Netscape.”
Tech Support: “No, what version of Windows are you using?”
Customer: “Uhhh…Hewlett Packard?”
Tech Support: “No, Right click on ‘My Computer,’ and select properties on the menu.”
Customer: “Your computer? It’s my computer!”
It is a strange biblical episode. When poisonous snakes attack the Jews in the desert, in this week’s portion of Chukat, G-d instructs Moses to fashion a special healing instrument: a pole topped with the form of a snake. Moses sculptures a snake of copper and places it on top of a pole. Those who had been afflicted by a snake-bite would gaze on the serpentine image on the pole and be cured.
It is interesting to note that according to many historians, this was the forerunner of the caduceus, the snake-entwined rod which is today the emblem of the medical profession. I guess every doctor hopes and prays that somehow his or her medical advice would work as efficiently as Moses’ snake-on-the-pole…
The question is obvious: What was the point of placing a snake on top of the pole to cure the Jews who were bitten? If it was G-d who was healing them miraculously, why they need to look up at a copper-snake atop a pole?
The question is actually raised in the Talmud: "is the snake capable of determining life and death?!” the Talmud asks. It gives this answer: “Rather, when Israel would gaze upward and bind their hearts to their Father in Heaven, they would be healed; it was the relationship with G-d, which brought the cure.
But if so, why bother to carve out a copper snake in the first place, which can only make people feel that it is the copper-snake which is performing the miracle of healing?
Most of us lack the patience or time to think of how computers have changed our lives. Our world has become a computer world.
The Industrial Revolution during the 18th and 19th centuries changed our world. Yet it was nothing close to the impact of The Computer Revolution.
From solving problems, calculating rapidly and reliability, reducing the number of labors, and bringing untold quantities of information to the masses. But there is one aspect I want to focus on. It is the “cut and paste” phenomenon.
Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, taught that, “Everything that a person sees or hears should teach him a lesson in his service of the Almighty.”
What, then, is spiritual and moral significance of us living in the computer age?
The answer was presented by the Rebbe. What is the difference between a good piece of writing and a poorly-written one? Good writing has a clearly defined purpose. It makes a definite point. It supports that point with specific information. But the interesting thing is that both great writing and poor writing are comprised of the very same letters and punctuation marks. It is only their configuration that is different.
Charles Dickens opened up his “A Tale of Two Cities” with these words: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness… it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope… It is one of the most famous openings in all literature. One of the reasons this passage is so memorable is because the language is so dynamic and precise. It sucks you right in. The same applies to work of art, Ditto with music.
With this analogy, the Kabbalah sages explain the mystery of evil. If everything comes from G-d, how can evil exist? Evil, in its deepest core, is a nonentity. What we know as “evil” is merely a corruption of good—the same letters differently configured. G-d created the world through letters and words. When those very same letters are misconfigured, the message and energy coming out from it may be contrary to the essence of their very Creator.
Why is this so important to understand? Let me share an old legend.
Alexander the Great once commissioned an artist to paint his portrait in oils. He gave him two conditions. It was to be an exact rendering, un-falsified. Additionally, it was to be striking and handsome.
This filled the artist with great distress, for over his right eye, Alexander had a prominent battle scar. The painter was therefore confronted with what he quickly understood to be a life-threatening dilemma. To omit the scar, would be a violation of the first condition. To include it, would be a violation of the second.
Finally, the artist came up with a solution. “Your Excellency”, the artist said, “you are the greatest military strategist the world has ever known. I want to capture that in your portrait. Please sit down and think of a strategy for a great battle.” Alexander perched himself on a bench and quickly became absorbed in thought. After a minute of contemplation, his whole demeanor changed. His face was illuminated by an aura of intense, radiating concentration – in his mind’s eye he was preparing a strategy for the greatest battle of his career. Steeped in deep thought, Alexander raised his right hand to support his head, his forefinger covering the scar.
This was the painting produced by the artist with Alexander covering the scar as he was deeply immersed in contemplation. The painting was both accurate and striking!
This is the meaning of the concept, often employed in Kabbalah, to “transform darkness into light and bitterness into sweetness.” How? Thus we need not eradicate the bitterness and manufacture the sweetness to replace it; we need only rearrange the letters.
All the world needs is good editing.
The “snake” in the biblical story -- as all biblical stories capturing the timeless journeys of the human psyche -- is also a metaphor for all of the “snakes” in our lives.
G-d tells Moses: “Make a serpent and place it on a pole. Whoever gets bitten should look at it and he will live.” The key to healing, the Torah is suggesting, is not by fleeing the cause of the suffering, but by gazing at it. But there is one qualification: you must look up to the snake; you must look on top of the elevated pole, not on the serpent crawling here below.
The first Chabad Rebbe explains a strange Talmudic story: It was Friday eve before Shabbat, where the great Talmudic and impoverished sage Rabbi Chanina ben Dota asked his daughter why she appeared sad. She responded that she confused her oil and vinegar canisters, and accidentally poured vinegar into to lamp, thereby extinguishing their only flame meant to illuminate their Shabbat meal. Rabbi Chanina responded to her, "Why should this matter? The One who said oil should ignite can say that vinegar should ignite!" The Talmud records that in fact the lamp did ignite, and remained lit through Shabbat, until Saturday evening.
Is this just a miracle story? If so, he could have just said, "the vinegar shall burn”! Why did he say, “Why should this matter? The One who said oil should ignite can say that vinegar should ignite!"
But the words are precise. "The One who said oil should ignite can say that vinegar should ignite!" Every reality in the world consists of the Divine letters that brought it into existence. What makes oil burn is G-d “saying” that it burns. It is the configuration of the Divine letters in a specific form that causes the oil to ignite and vinegar to purge. But G-d could “say” it differently, He can rearrange the same letters in a different form, He can reformulate the energy of the vinegar, and it too would burn. For Rabbi Chaninah this was not a miracle in the simple sense of the world as much as it was appreciating the core reality of every object.
But the story is also a metaphor for life. Each of us has oil in our life, the parts of our lives that burn brightly, with a lovely glow. But we also have “vinegar” in our lives, the bitter and sour parts. We get sad over them, as Rabbi Chaninah’s daughter had. Yet Rabbi Chaninah teaches us, that vinegar and oil both come from the same source. So why is one bitter and the other bright? Because the letters are misconfigured. But then realize that they are both manifestation of Divine letters, then “The One who said oil should ignite can say that vinegar should ignite! "We can rediscover how even vinegar can begin to shine and cast a bright glow on our lives. But how could Rabbi Chaninah accomplish this?
Here we come at last to the final point. The world, we explained, has a magnificent writer. We call him G-d. What it needs most of all are great editors. That is our job: to edit everything we see within ourselves and within the world around us, revealing its “proper configuration,” exposing the Divine essence and purpose in any and every reality that comes our way.
But great editors have an “editor-in-chief.” The editor-in-chief does not edit each article; that is the function of the editors. Rather, the editor-in-chief is the one who sets the tone. You know what an editor in chief once told one of his writers, explaining to him why his manuscript was unpublished: "Your manuscript is both good and original. But the part that is good is not original, and the part that is original is not good."
The editor-in-chief—that is the Rebbe. In each generation G-d provides us with an editor-in-chief who inspires and guides every editor, every Jew, in the task of “cut and paste,” so that the vinegar can glow just like the oil.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky

Tom Peacock wrote...
Tom Peacock wrote...