The Light is with me

The secret of the red heifer

The heart of the portion of Chukat is the secret of the red heifer, a cow without a single blemish, without one spot that wasn't red, that had never worked nor carried any yoke. In the time of the Tabernacle, and later of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, its ashes were used to purify anyone who had come into contact with what the Torah calls the impurity of death (tumat met).

And this impurity isn't just one among others. Kabbalah calls it avi avot hatumah, the root of all impurities. Clearing this force is this week's gift.

What "the energy of death" really is

If we read the Torah literally, the impurity of death refers to whoever comes near a lifeless body. But it's much more than that: all of us carry dead energy inside.

This energy of death is the illusion of the finite, the illusion of disconnection. When people fear death, deep down they fear the end, the end of life, the end of blessing, the end of a process; they fear being left alone, without purpose, without meaning, without continuity. All our fears sprout from this same root.

The root of every block: "the Light isn't with me"

What's the root of every force of impurity, of every fog that blinds us and leaves us, in the teacher's words, "stupid" in the face of life (not in IQ, but in the inability to sense what's true)? It's a single thought: the Light of the Creator isn't with me.

Even someone who's studied Kabbalah for years knows the moment of feeling "I know there's Light in this action", and, moments later, "maybe there's Light, maybe not; I feel alone." These are layers of impure spirit isolating us from the truth that we're part of something infinite that cares about us. And when I feel alone, the result is predictable: I become reactive, selfish, fearful, and feed the klipot (the shells that block the Light) even more.

On the Light's side, nothing changes

Here's the turn. From the Light's point of view, it's constantly guiding us, propelling and supporting us toward our final correction, every single second. Nothing changes on the Light's side. It's me who blocks myself with "today I'm more spiritual, today I'm less."

Even when I take a selfish action and, by the law of cause and effect, disconnect, the Light, in that very instant, already offers me a way back. It isn't disappointed. It doesn't judge. When I truly live this, a good outcome stops inflating my ego ("it was the Light that helped me"), and a fall stops sinking me ("the Light is with me, so: continuity, Teshuvah, transformation"). And the same view extends to those close to me: when someone in my circle, in my Tikkun, slips for a moment, I see that person's soul and stay there to support them.

The red heifer and the Left Column

The Zohar (verse 18 of this parashah) reveals a thread of the secret: the cow comes to purify the impure, Malchut (our world) when it receives from the left. Red is the color of the Left Column, the column of judgment and law. In other words, the red heifer represents that powerful Left Column, the pure desire to receive for the self alone, direct Light without restriction.

When I operate only through the left, usually because I feel "the Light isn't with me", I attract energy, but I feed the force of death. That's how the klipah is fed: it gives us an illusory life, of laughter and momentary pleasure, of fleeting success, of being above someone. It looks like life, but the consciousness underneath it is death: "I'm not connected to the source."

And what does it mean to burn the red heifer? It's not burning the Light. It's looking at the desire to receive for the self alone and saying: "Go away. I don't want you." It's fighting the force of death, letting go of what we call the fear of death. The ashes, then, become the vaccination.

"Zot ha-Torah": being willing to face the illusion of death

There's a verse in this portion that Kabbalah reads in a surprising way: Zot ha-Torah, adam ki yamut ba'ohel, "This is the Torah: when a man dies in the tent…" Read this way, it doesn't say "this is the law"; it says this is the Torah, the very purpose of spiritual work: being willing to face the illusion of death.

We're afraid of so many things, embarrassment, being judged, things not going our way, losing money, getting sick, even, in the end, of dying. The only way to connect with the force of life is to tell the universe: "If this is what I need, I am willing to face this death", whatever form it takes. Including discomfort: for us, laziness is fear of discomfort, and discomfort is a small illusory death. Notice how we feel alive after a hard stretch, a plunge into cold water, life is on the other side of discomfort.

Speaking to the rock, not striking it

Michael Berg shares, from the kabbalists, a teaching from this portion. After Miriam, Moshe's sister, left this world, water ran out, and the people cried out. The Creator instructed Moshe: "Speak to the rock, and water will come out of it." But Moshe struck the rock, and the water came out anyway. That's why, it's written, he didn't enter the land of Israel.

What's the difference between speaking to the rock and striking it? The force of death takes hold of us whenever we're too attached to physical reality: what was or wasn't said about me, how much I received, whether I got the result I wanted, whether it looks good or not. Living in this world means navigating ups and downs, the question is: am I attached to them? Whoever is attached needs a jolt (striking the rock) to let go and go back to seeing the Light. Whoever is constantly talking with the Light can simply speak to the rock, and manifest miracles.

Awakening the consciousness of immortality

The Rav Berg used to say that, in this portion, we receive the vision of this world's purpose: to bring immortality, to experience that there is no death, not even physically. All suffering can be traced back to reactive, selfish behavior, to a lack of love; but what's the root of that? "I'm disconnected from the Light." That's exactly what we came to restore.

That's why we read and scan the Zohar daily: not just for the moment our eyes pass over the letters, but to awaken within us the eternal connection with the source of life. To wake up the consciousness that we are immortal, because the Light is with us all the time, and I am with the Light all the time.