Chapter Twelve

The Third Tablets Revealed[1]

Two Decalogues

In this chapter we will begin reading the esoteric tablets, those that are hidden in the center of the Torah just as the tablets of the covenant were hidden in the ark in the center of the camp. We will see that the two columns of text we identified in chapter three should be read in parallel as five pairs. In the next chapter we will compare these five pairs with the two tablets of the Decalogue in Exodus and thereby discover that Leviticus 19 can be read as a key to understanding the Decalogue. I want to give an overview of these two chapters now in order to make it easier to follow the steps that lead to this remarkable conclusion. The Torah utilizes some amazingly complex devices in order to make its esoteric message accessible. Consequently, the analysis will also be complex. However, if we keep the goal in mind, it will help us through the difficulties of the analysis.

Sneak Preview

I will give one example now of what awaits us in chapter six. When I speak of the ten Words (commandments) on the tablets of the covenant in the following example, I refer to the division into ten that appears in the Torah scroll and which was later adopted by the Catholic Church. I will explain the sources and importance of the different divisions in the next chapter. According to the Torah scroll the first Word is “I am the Lord your God…” and the second is “Do not take the Name of the Lord your God in vain.” These first two Words have in common “the Lord your God.” The first pair of pericopes on the tablets of Leviticus 19 is: “…I the Lord your God am holy” and “(do not) profane the name of the Lord your God.” Both the first pair of Words of the Decalogue in Exodus and the first pair in our table in Leviticus are based on God and His name. As we will see in the detailed analysis in this chapter, this dichotomy in the Leviticus pair can be read as first cause and final cause. God Himself is the first cause and His name is the final (teleological) cause. The distinction between God and His name as first cause and final cause provides the key to understanding why the ten words were written on two tablets. One tablet deals with first cause and the other with final cause. This is one of the two defining characteristics of the Decalogue and determines that the ten Words be read in pairs. The other characteristic is the conceptual flow from one pair of Words to the next. This flow creates a five-step paradigm.

A Five Step Paradigm

The tablets of the Decalogue and Leviticus 19 share a five-step paradigm described by means of the five pairs in each document. The brunt of this chapter will be spent on elucidating this five-step paradigm in Leviticus 19. Once we have clarified it regarding the Leviticus text, we will see in chapter six how it applies to the five pairs of Words on the tablets of the covenant. The paradigm itself can also be seen in the structure of the five books of the Torah. Since the structure of the Torah is clear and well known to all, I will use it as an introduction to the structure of the tablets. The similarity depends on reading the tablets as divided into five sections, just as the Torah is divided into five books. Here again is the overview of the Torah with which we began this enquiry.

Table 1 A Schematic Overview of the Torah

This schematic view demonstrates the symmetrical arrangement of the Torah around the Tabernacle as its focus. There are also other ways of dividing the books into groups, which will prove to be useful to us. The core of the Torah consists of the three central books, Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, which describe the period of forty years during which Moses led the people from Egypt to the borders of Canaan. This central core is reflected in Moses’ recounting of the forty years in the book of Deuteronomy- the second telling. The primary difference between Deuteronomy and the core is in the perspective or voice. Deuteronomy is written in the first person from Moses’ perspective. The other books are written from the perspective of an omniscient narrator. Genesis is like the core text in that it also has an omniscient narrator. Genesis differs from the rest of the Torah in that it does not include Moses.

Table 2: Various Divisions of the Torah

We can use these last observations to divide the Torah into two overlapping blocks of four books each. The first block, the divine perspective, includes the first four books. The second block, the story of Moses, includes the last four books. The central core of the middle three books is common to both the divine and the human (Moses) perspectives. We can now see the Torah as containing three basic sections. Genesis describes the history of God’s involvement in the world. Deuteronomy describes Moses’ personal reflections of the forty years in the desert. The three central books describe God’s interaction with Moses. Still, even though we can see clear divisions and symmetries between the books of the Torah, they do apparently present a chronological continuum. Let’s take a closer look at the flow from book to book on the basis of time while keeping in mind the other principles of organization we have investigated.

For the sake of brevity as well as consistency with other examples of the five part paradigm, I will now begin to refer to the books of the Torah by Roman numerals according to the order of the books, I=Genesis, II=Exodus, etc. We have noted that books I and V are antipodal, characterized respectively as the exclusive perspectives of God (I) and Moses (V). Each also has a different perspective of time. Book I presents itself as a pure chronology depicted through the lives of individuals from Adam to Joseph. Book V on the other hand, while mentioning historical events, is primarily oriented to the future, after the entry to Canaan. Taking book III as the middle, falling equidistantly between book I and book V, indicates a chronological as well as conceptual fit. It is neither past nor future oriented; its tenor is current, present. Conceptually, it details the meeting of the holy and the mundane, God and man, as indicated right off at the opening, “God called out to Moses from the tent of meeting.” Taken together, the first, last and middle books of the Torah indicate a double process: a shift from past-oriented to future-oriented that is concurrent with a transition from the divine perspective to the human.

We now must determine how books II and IV fit into the processes we have identified. “Fit” is really the right term here because these two books drop into place like the wheels of a Swiss watch, or the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle. We noted earlier the double symmetry of books II and IV. Chronologically, the second part of book IV continues the historical narrative interrupted in the middle of book II. The second part of book II and the first part of book IV are effectively “hooks” that connect these books to book III. The historical narrative of book II describes the exodus from Egypt while much of the narrative of book IV describes the preparations for entering Canaan. Geography overlaps chronology; Egypt is associated with the past and Canaan with the future. Moreover, the geographical flow, from Egypt to Canaan, provides two steps in the process of transferring the focus from God to man. God brought about the exodus from Egypt with “a strong hand and an outstretched arm.” While Moses acted as God’s emissary, the text clearly emphasizes that God was the active cause of the Exodus. In stage IV, on the other hand, God’s role in the battles of conquest is minimized. In addition to Moses, we find in IV all those who share in temporal power, all the princes of the tribes, the twelve spies including Joshua and Caleb, as well as less illustrious persons such as Korach. There is a clear shift in emphasis from divine leadership in II to human leaders in IV. The five books taken together demonstrate a five-step process. The goal of that process would appear to be the establishment of the Israelite nation as an independent entity under human leadership. Here is the process in outline form.

     I.      God; the past.
The Nation of Israel exists only in potential, as an idea.

 II.      Between the past and the present; divine leadership.
The nation begins to take form in God’s hand.

III.      The present -or- timeless; God meets man in the divine service; the source of continuing revelation. The nation develops an identity through its national focus.

IV.      Between the present and the future; human leaders.
The nation begins to demonstrate its independence from God.

    V.      Man; the future.
The nation stands ready to begin its mundane independence as the divine presence departs.

With a very slight shift of emphasis, the five stages of the books of the Torah demonstrate the five-step paradigm we will see in the Decalogue as well as in Leviticus 19. The overall flow is from God to man. The three intermediate stages demonstrate successively decreasing degrees of man’s dependence on God.

             I.      God

           II.      Man is dependent upon God

        III.      Man and God co-exist

        IV.      Man separates from God

          V.      Man

This paradigm can be understood as a process of realization. As such, it begins in stage I with the pure “idea” of man, which as a divine idea is indistinguishable from God’s substance. In stage II the idea begins to take form and is fully embodied in stage III. While man now exists physically, his personal actions are indistinguishable from divine actions because he is essentially a vessel for divine will. Only in stage IV does man’s will appear distinguished from divine will. Finally, in stage V man exists as an independent entity. The first use of this paradigm in the Torah is in the first day of creation. The five times that light is mentioned on the first day represent the five stages of the paradigm, from the divine concept in “Let there be light” to the full realization in “day.”

The Five Steps of Leviticus 19

Now that we have some idea of where we are headed, we can begin the job of actually reading the tablets in the ark. We will read the table as five pairs according to the following division.

Table 3: Rows 1 and 3 Merged

I have changed the designators of the parts of the chapter in the above chart in order to present the columns as five pairs rather than two rows. Roman numerals I-IV have replaced the designators A-D of row 1. Roman V has replaced row 3. For example the new designator of the previous 3LC is V-LC. (I have placed the linear number of the pericope in parenthesis as a reminder of how we originally determined the structure of the table.) This arrangement provides a solution for one of the problems we encountered in chapter three. We noted there that although the material in columns L and R of row 3 referred back to the corresponding columns of row 1, the closure phrases did not follow the rule of row 1:“I am the Lord your God” in L and “I am the Lord” in R. However, when we read row 3 (pair V) as a pair of triads, everything falls into place. Each of the three-part units in pair V ends with the appropriate ending: V-LC “I am the Lord your God” and V-RC “I am the Lord.” We can now begin to appreciate the metamorphous taking place in the chapter. The closure phrase has revealed yet another role that it plays. It emphasizes the triplets of pair V (former row 3) as structural triads. We will soon see that each of the five pairs has its own unique structure. Here now are the two columns divided into five pairs of units.

We can already begin to appreciate some of the similarities between the five-part structure above and the five books of the Torah. Like the Torah in can be seen as two overlapping blocks of four units. Sections I-IV are set off from section V by pericope 9, the “promised handmaid” section, that falls between them. From another point of view, section I is set off because it is not reflected in V as are II-IV. This last point is parallel to the way that Genesis is set off from the four “Moses” books. Moreover, the fact that section V reflects II-IV is similar to the way Deuteronomy reflects the three central books of the Torah. Now let’s look at the content of our “tablets.”

First of all we should review some of the points we noted in chapter three. Each column appears to have an independent flow from top to bottom. Column L begins with pure divine holiness, potentially shared by man. Step by step the subjects distance themselves from the source of holiness. By the end of the column the divine holiness has all but disappeared, being relegated to a mere spark in the center of V-L, a spark that even appears to be out of place, foreign. Column R delineates a parallel but opposite process vis-à-vis man. At first man is only pernicious. Gradually he takes on a more positive demeanor. By stage V-R he becomes a vehicle for divine revelation in history. At the core of V-R he cares for the displaced, the foreigner. We also saw that the first four units of column R have indications of internal ordering based on the appearances of relational terms such as “your brother” and “your neighbor.” The units are actually numbered by the appearances of these terms: from one in I-R to four in IV-R. We can now see yet another method used by the text to order its parts.

The text uses a fascinating gradient to demonstrate that it is to be read in pairs and that the pairs are ordered. The gradient is based on a gradual shift from content parallels to formal parallels. The first pair has a common subject, God’s holiness. The fifth pair has a common form; they are both triads. These are the poles, content and form. The intermediate pairs demonstrate a gradual shift from common content to common form. Pairs II and IV play a critical role in defining the flow. I will deal with them at length later. For now, I will point out just the characteristics that create the pattern. All four of the units that make up pairs II and IV are composed of two elements. In all four of them one of the elements refers to God and one does not. In pair II there is also a linguistic link between the units. In order to illustrate the relationship between “religious” and “civil” elements within pairs II-IV, I will highlight them separately in the following table.

The Hebrew yerah, which appears in both elements of pair II, can be translated as “reverence,” “fear,” or “awe.” In II-L it links parents to observing God’s Sabbath. In II-R it links God with avoiding taking advantage of others. In both cases yerah is connected to other actions, thereby linking religious and non-religious elements. The units thus have in common the subject of yerah and the way it functions to connect the religious and non-religious elements. Each unit of pair IV is also made up of two elements, one referring to God, and one purely civil. However, they are not linked and appear as separate elements, A and B in the above table. (The two units of IV have a very rich relationship that we will examine later in this chapter.) Now we need to consider just how pair III fits in between II and IV.

In order to appreciate the literary brilliance of the text at this point, we have to consider pairs II and IV as structural opposites based on the way the religious/civil dichotomy appears in each unit. In each unit of II they have a causal link based on the common use of “fear.” In IV they are fully separated. So in order for III to be an intermediary between them it must simultaneously indicate that the religious and civil subjects are linked and separate. In order to read III properly, it must be read as a pair. The categories of “religious” and “civil” appear independently in each of the pericopes, “religious” in L and “civil” in R. In other words, the literary device that creates the flow presupposes that the individual tablets are “aware” of each other and work together. In pair III the two subjects separate from each other and appear independently, one in each column. The Hebrew “ahseh” links them. III-L ends with this verb, translated there as “make,” while III-R begins with the same verb, translated “do.” This linguistic connection is emphasized by the unusual syntax of the Hebrew in III-R, which actually has the verb near the end- “molten gods do not make for yourselves.” So pair III does indeed demonstrate “separate” and “linked” simultaneously. The link is created both by the verb that indicates human activity, ahseh, “make,” as well as by the activity of the reader who “makes” the connection and grasps the two tablets together.

We can now see three formal stages in the middle of the table. In stage II the divine and the mundane are interlocked, both appearing in each pericope connected by the same verb, yerah. In the next stage, III, they separate and take on independent identities, one in each column. The connection between them is maintained by the verb ahseh. In IV the divine and the mundane recombine as independent subjects found within the same pericope. The emphasis on independent units in pair III serves to create an ordered structural flow from pairs III to V. They have respectively, one (III) two (IV) and three (V) parts. Pairs I to III, on the other hand, evidence a conceptual, content, flow: God’s holiness in I; the link between the human and the divine in II; and purely human activities in III.

We have now seen that the tabular reading of our text reveals a flow from content parallels to formal parallels. There is more to this flow than just a literary nicety. The fact is that this formal flow overlaps the content flow from pair to pair. The content flows from the holy, spiritual, to the mundane, physical. In the remainder of this chapter we will examine the relationship between structure and content as it is expressed in the flow from pair to pair.

Visual Rhetoric

We made major progress towards deciphering the esoteric Torah in the last chapter. We will immediately be able to use one of the principles we learned in order to continue analyzing Leviticus 19. The specific principle we will employ is that the Torah utilizes “visual rhetoric.” We will now begin reading the tablets within the ark as a visual text. We have already seen that the triad at the core of Leviticus 19 reads as a visual text, having the conceptual middle in the center rather than at the end. We will now see that the columns of the table we created should be read simultaneously, a feat that is possible only if they are presented as a visual text rather than a linear book. In other words, the tablets of the covenant hewn in stone exemplify the text of the Torah. It cannot be understood properly unless it is visualized and not just read. The two tablets must be “grasped” side by side. Once the tablets are seen side-by-side it becomes clear that they should be read simultaneously, one pair of units at a time.

Binocular Vision

We will examine the columns of the table above under a binocular microscope and take a close look at the fine details of the text. The “binocular” imagery refers to the fact that we will look at two pericopes at a time. The great advantage of binocular vision is that it enables us to see depth. Without it all we see is superficial, on a single plane. Our “binocular microscope” will enable us to transcend the superficial linear text. It works much like vision itself. Each eye perceives an object from a slightly different angle or perspective. The brain combines the two perspectives to create the sense of depth. If we use but one eye, we lose depth perception. We will see that when the parallel columns of our text are read through the literary binocular microscope, they reveal, much as an optical microscope, a previously invisible world, the very existence of which could never have been noted without that wonderful tool.

 What does this mean about the text? On one level it means that the text has been devised in such a way as to hide its secrets from the one-eyed. In other words, it uses a literary device that requires the reader to see it as a “binocular” text before it reveals itself. The device itself can be compared with the old-fashioned 3D cameras and viewers. The stereo camera takes two pictures simultaneously, effectively from the perspective of two eyes. When the two pictures are viewed in the appropriate stereo viewer, the images combine to create a three dimensional picture. Our text was devised so that each pair of parallel pericopes is like the pair of pictures taken by the stereo camera. When they are viewed together through the appropriate device they add the dimension of depth to the text.[2] When the successive pairs are viewed as a series, they even create the illusion of motion.

The Writing on the Wall

Actually, we should not be surprised that there is something about the character of the Torah that demands that we consider it a visual document. Chapter 27 of Deuteronomy describes two presentations of the Torah, the first when just entering Canaan, and the second at Mt. Ebal at the declamation of the curses and blessings. In both cases the people are instructed to take large stones and whitewash them. The whitewashed stones are then used as the “paper” for writing the Torah. The whole text is presented visually as a single construct on stone. The difference between the two stone texts is quite enlightening. When just crossing the Jordan they are instructed to write the whole Torah divided amongst individual stones. At mount Ebal they are commanded to build an altar, whitewash it, and write the Torah very clearly on the whitewashed altar stones. The difference between the two written texts of the Torah is that the second one, the one written on the altar, is described as “very clear.” The plastered altar is like a large wall. It is possible to arrange the whole text of the Torah upon it graphically. The separate stones on the banks of the Jordan can only contain sections of the Torah. When the whole text is available visually as a single piece, it is described as “very clear.”

The key difference between the Torah scroll, or any linear book, and the presentation of the text on an extended surface is that the large surface permits visual arrangement of the text. The parts of the text can be seen as parallels, charts, cycles, or any visual representation of the conceptual relationship between the parts, by means of juxtaposition. The “wall-writing” provides the medium for a graphically oriented text. The fact that the only example of such writing mentioned in the Torah is on the face of an altar indicates the special status of this form of writing. It is the holy format of a holy document. The tablets of the covenant, carved in stone, are a micro-text based on the same principles of holy writing. They are placed in the Ark of the Covenant to indicate their holiness much as the only “very clear” text of the Torah is written on an altar.

The Text as Pictograph

Besides the “visual rhetoric” of the Torah that we saw in the conceptual middle as well as in focal symmetry, we saw yet another characteristic that can also be classified as a form of graphic presentation. I am referring to the “picture” of propagation we noted in the previous chapter. I want to take another look at this figure now because it will help us understand the material we will be looking at in this chapter. The most important conclusion from our examination of the “propagation” pericope was that the Torah uses laws to create meta-legal images. Moreover, the image itself is the medium through which the Torah transmits the overriding message of the esoteric text. Let’s review just how that works. The text employed a combination of agricultural laws and the incident of the promised handmaid to paint a three-stage image of propagation by juxtaposition of the laws. The fact that the image utilized totally unrelated laws demonstrated that the text is meta-legal: the message is in the picture. By closely examining the image we were able to determine that it demonstrated a specific aspect of human experience, the tension between the potential of the unique individual and his realization as part of society. This tension exits as a theme throughout the chapter. The two tablets within the ark represent the perspectives of the individual on one and society on the other.

The central triad ties together the opposite perspectives of the two tablets. This may indicate that it was meant to provide a key to deciphering the tablets. I think it functions like a ring or band that wraps around the two tablets and holds them together. At the same time it provides the keys to understanding the nature of the two tablets. Each tablet is reflected in one of the extreme columns of the central triad. In our visual presentation of the text, the left column of the table, or the left tablet, has a theme consistent with the left column of the central triad, the potential of the individual. Similarly, the right tablet and the right column of the central triad share a theme, realization within society. That could mean that the central column of the central triad, the promised handmaid, is meant to integrate the opposing characteristics of the two tablets. Again we return to the experience of existential man as a focus, but in a broader context than before. In order to fully grasp the wonder of the literary device “existential man” the reader must make a quantum leap and identify with the man at the core of the text. The reader herself must begin to integrate the pairs in opposition. Existential man exits in the middle of the key triad in order to teach the reader that she must place herself in the middle between the two tablets. She must grasp a tablet in each of her hands and integrate them through her own person in order to bring about the unification of God and His Name. This is the secret of the tablets.

Mediating Between God and His Name

The nature of the two tablets is indicated in the first pair. In the first pericope of the left column (I-L) God speaks of His own substance, describing Himself as “Holy.” In the parallel pericope of the right column (I-R) God demands that we avoid those actions that lead to profaning His name. God’s substance and His name are presented as two different entities. The text itself makes no connection between them other than placing each at the top of its own tablet and thereby providing the heading for the tablets. It is left entirely within the power of the reader to mediate between God and His name. Here is yet another example of the extraordinary artfulness of the Torah. In order to understand the text the reader must be an active participant in the dialectic. She must replace “existential man” with herself at the focus of the text and thus mediate between God and His name through her own person.

We now see the full portent of why the saga of the promised handmaid was placed between forbidden mixtures and first fruits: the reader has become the conceptual middle, responsible for conception- the act described in the Garden of Eden as “knowing.” The handmaid is wisdom. She has been promised to the reader who can place himself in the text and thus free the handmaid from her bondage and take her for himself. The secret at the heart of the esoteric Torah is the mastery of wisdom. Wisdom empowers the reader to mediate between God and His name, between the universe of “The One” and the world of the many. God in His holy oneness stands at the top of the religion/individual tablet, L. His “name” is mentioned twice at the top of the “society” tablet, R. This is the distinction between the tablets as taught by wisdom. The “titles” of the two tablets are, respectively, “God the Holy” and “His Holy Name.” Wisdom instructs the reader to seek the bridge between God and His name and provides it in “holy.” Both He, and His name are holy. He clearly describes Himself as holy: “I the Lord your God am holy.” He indirectly refers to His name as holy: “you shall not swear by my name falsely and so profane the name of your God.” The common subject of the first pair is “holiness.” The reader has the power of uniting God and His name by understanding “holiness.” Let us keep this in mind as we see what the first pair can tell us about “holiness.”

Pair I: Holy From A to Z

The Primal Dichotomy: God and His Name

What are the indications that these two pericopes should be read in conjunction? Both are concerned with God and holiness. In I-L God refers to Himself as holy. The reference to His holiness in I-R is indirect, implied through the injunction against profaning His name. Both “lenses” of our stereo camera are pointed at God’s holiness. In order to fully appreciate the third dimension, we have to place I-R under the binocular microscope to see just how the two pericopes create a unified picture. Unfortunately, the microscope only works on Hebrew. It is not possible to do a detailed analysis of the pericope without referring to the Hebrew. I will point out just the key element of the analysis and show how it affects the reading of the pericope.

At first glance I-R seems to list several different laws, “You shall not steal nor deal falsely nor lie” etc. Why are these laws connected with profaning the Divine name? How can we read this apparent collection as a unit? The answer is found under the microscope in a single Hebrew letter “vav.” This letter is used as a general connective having so many different meanings that it takes up three pages in the BDB Lexicon of Biblical Hebrew. In I-R it is translated both as “and” and “and so.” If we change the beginning of verse 12 to “And so” the text can have the following (implied) meaning: “(If you steal, deal falsely or lie you may be required to take an oath and thereby profane God’s name by lying, so) “You shall not steal nor deal falsely nor lie and so you shall not swear by my name falsely and so profane the name of your God.” According to this reading the entire pericope is concerned with avoiding taking a false oath. Theft is forbidden here because it may lead to taking a false oath and thus profaning God’s name. We are looking at a chain of actions that are prohibited because of the final effect. In fact, the Hebrew can be read as a single chain of events: “Don’t steal, so you won’t deny it and lie to your friend and swear by My name deceitfully and thereby profane the Name of your God.”

The “microscopic” analysis of I-R has led us to a unifying principle. The apparent list of prohibitions serves only to detail the effects of God’s holy name. We can now see that the two pericopes present God’s holiness from two different perspectives. The first, I-L, looks at God’s substance, or being, and describes Him as holy. The effect of His substantive holiness is to demand that the congregation also be holy in substance, “be holy for I the Lord your God am holy.” The second, I-R, views His holiness not from the substantive perspective, but rather, as others perceive Him. The Hebrew for name, shem, has a nuance of “reputation” similar to the English, as in “a good name.” The commandments associated with God’s name demand honesty and integrity, the qualities of a good name. So we can characterize the two perspectives as substantive, His being, and attributed, His name. These two perspectives taken together create the multidimensional image that brings our text to life and life to our text.

Aristotle?

The added dimension of the two pericopes can be described as “God-the ultimate cause.” Each pericope examines a different type of causality and connects it with God. The two different types of causes can be thought of as “beginning” and “end.” One is the cause that sets things in motion. The other is the final cause, the ultimate reason for the action. God is presented as the source in L, causing humans to be holy because He is holy. In R His holiness is found at the end of a chain of events. So the effect of the two pericopes together is to say that God is the beginning and the end, the first cause and the final cause.[3] All of the actions in the pair are determined by a divine cause based on holiness. Here is where the reader enters as an active participant to mediate between the first cause and the final cause. The two pericopes, taken together, place the reader in the middle. God, the first cause, demands that we be holy. Our holiness, in the second pericope, is expressed by means of God’s holy name. The first cause creates the conditions for the reader to be the agent for the final cause. In other words, it is the reader herself who unites God and His name in holiness. This is the esoteric/mystical teaching at the heart of the Torah. Reading the two pericopes together creates the following flow: I-L{God is holy→ Man must be holy}→ I-R{Man’s actions effect God’s holy name}. The remaining pairs present the details of how this is accomplished.

Pair II: Fear Your God as You Fear Your Parents

The second pair of pericopes has a linguistic link that is not clear in the English. The Hebrew, yerah, is translated both as “revere” and “fear.” Reading the pericopes together indicates that we are to have the same attitude towards parents as we have towards God, whether we call it fear, reverence, or awe. As soon as our binocular vision focuses in on the linguistic similarity between the pericopes, we are drawn to another similar feature. Both L and R contain other laws besides the commandment of awe. Both pericopes require that we look for the link between awe and the other laws.

The “awe” within each pericope is connected differently to the additional laws. In L awe of parents precedes observing the Sabbath. In R the order is reversed, awe of God follows a list of prohibitions. This pattern is similar to what we found in the first pair. In fact, the objects of awe in II seem to replace the holy subjects of I. Fear of divine judgment in II-L effects human actions much as God’s name does in I-L. In a similar manner, awe of one’s (Sabbath-observing) parents leads to observing the Sabbath in II –R, just as God’s being holy leads people to be holy in I-L. Considering the formal similarity between I and II, the critical difference is in the perspective. Pair I focuses on God while pair II focuses on man. The common subject of I, holiness, pertains to God. The common subject of II, awe, as an emotion pertains to man. The two subjects fit together perfectly since awe is an immensely fitting response to holiness.

Not unlike the way the first pair pointed to the limits of causality, pair II also defines a range. The two different objects of awe in II are used to indicate the limits of this range. The first, parents, points to birth or the source, a perspective that is reinforced by the mention of the Sabbath, which commemorates creation. The second, fear of the Lord, points to ultimate judgment, whether after death or in life. In broad terms, we could say that the pair indicates the range of human life, from birth to death. Specifically, we see man enclosed within the framework of causality from beginning to end, from the causes (parents) of his birth to the teleological cause, the divine judgment of his life. Reflections on both his beginning and his end awaken in man the sense of awe.

We can now appreciate the full power of the literary binocular microscope. By focusing simultaneously on both pericopes we see that they both deal with the interrelationship between the human and the divine. Within each pericope the separate elements are linked by the connective vav that we noted in the previous pair. I think we should read it as describing a causal connection in both cases. On the one hand, reverence for parents leads to observing God’s Sabbath. On the other, fear of the Lord prevents one from taking advantage of the weak. The advantage of this reading is that it highlights the parallel use of yerah. Fear or reverence is the cause of the actions in both pericopes. The position of the verb, yerah, indicates the type of cause. In L it is connected to the first clause, indicating that the following clause, Sabbath observance, is determined by the relationship to parents. In this sense parents are the first cause for Sabbath observance. In pericope R yerah is connected to the second clause, indicating that one avoids the actions of the first clause in order to avoid punishment. The cause (reason), like the appearance of yerah, is connected with the end, the potential result of actions.

We see now that the second pair maintains the distinction we found between the left and right columns in the first pair. Column L is concerned with first causes while R deals with final causes. The major difference between the two pairs is found in the source of the causes. The actions of the first pair were totally determined by divine holiness. The determining factor in the second pair is human emotion. The first pair is rooted in the nature of God while the second pair depends on human nature. Another way of viewing the difference between the pairs is that the first is simple and the second complex. The first is simple because it has but one object, divine holiness. The second pair is complex because it connects human emotion to the divine. In LB the emotional connection to parents affects God’s Sabbath. In RB the emotion directed toward God affects actions toward people. We might then characterize the first pair as dealing purely with the divine while the second pair turns to the interaction between the divine and the human.

There is another facet of the first two pairs that is a specific function of our binocular view. Each pair defines a range of experience. The first pair is limited to God’s substance and His name. These are not limits proper because they relate to the infinite. However, they do have a clear sense of direction: from the first cause, God’s substance, and towards the final cause, God’s name. The range of pair II is more clearly defined. It is the span of human life. It begins with parents, birth, as the substitute for first cause and ends with divine judgment (after death?) as final cause. These two “ranges” or dimensions are totally inaccessible unless the text is visualized as parallel columns in a table. For easy reference to the specific character of each of the first two pairs, I will refer to them as God (I), and the soul (II).

Pair III: Embodiment: The Eclipse of God

The third pair makes it clear that the first three pairs should be seen together as an ordered set. There is no mention of God in either III-L or III-R. This is a significant break from what we found in the two previous pairs. Pair I was devoted to God as the first and final cause. Next, in pair II, we found interaction between the human and the divine. Now, in III, we see a pair of pericopes that seem to ignore God completely. They emphasize human activity by the parallel use of the word aseh, (make or do), in both L and R. This is the first appearance of human creativity in this chapter. The progression from pair to pair can be read as: I, God, the ultimate cause; II, the soul, interplay between divine and human; III, human creativity. The first three pairs have all the appearances of an ordered triad with a conceptual middle. The first pair and the third pair, I and III, focus separately on the divine and the human while the middle pair, II, combines the two.

Actually, God does not completely disappear in the third pair. He is hidden in two different ways. In L He is replaced by “idols or…molten gods.” He is not mentioned at all in R, although He may be referred to obliquely, as in L. Pericope III-R is addressed to a judge. One of the Biblical terms for judges is elohim.[4] The same word is translated throughout our section as “God.” Similar to the way in which God is eclipsed by the idols of L, He may be hiding behind the judge of R. This reading reflects back to II-R “You shall fear your God (elohim).” “Fear” in the preceding pericope referred to punishment or judgment. According to the Hebrew, the text in II-R could just as well be translated “You shall fear your judges.” The ambiguity of elohim, translated as either God or judges in II-R, creates a transition from I-R to III-R. I-R points to God’s name as the cause of judicious action while III-R is directed to a human judge. II-R integrates both the aspect of God from I-R and the aspect of the judge from III-R. Even without seeing II-R as a transition, we can state categorically that pair III differs from the first two pairs because the Lord is not part of the subject. He is conspicuously absent, having been replaced by idols in L and a judge in R. In effect, the very section that warns against placing an intermediary between man and God that can sever the direct relationship between them, itself severs the link. And yet, the plain meaning of the pair epitomizes the general theme of each column. III-L is purely “religious” and III-R is purely civil.

Parallel processes take place in each of the columns, demonstrating increased significance of human activity. There is a three-step progression leading to human empowerment in column R. At first, in I-R, we see a worthless person who is a thief and liar. In the second step, II-R, we see a man of substance who employs others. In the third step he has become an official, a judge. The progression can be read as increasing civil responsibility. The parallel progression in column L is both similar and dissimilar to the progression in R. It is similar in that it indicates increasing levels of human activity. There is no specific action mentioned in I-L, simply the state of holiness. The second pericope in the series mentions an emotion as well as observing the Sabbath. While Sabbath observance is a more specific activity than what is found in I-L, it is still basically a passive act. At least we can say that it requires no human creativity, quite the opposite in fact. Only III-L mentions creative human activity, albeit negative. The similarity between the progressions in L and in R is that both deal with increasing degrees of human activity and decreasing dependence on God. The difference between them is that the progression in L is negative while that in R is positive.

How shall we define the “range” of pair III? The most striking similarity between the two pericopes is in fact not between them! It is found in the links between each pericope of III and the pericope that precedes it in II in its own column. Both II-R and III-R are concerned with judgment, the first with divine judgment, and the second with a human judge. When analyzing pair II we concluded that the aspect of divine judgment pointed to a continuation of the “final cause” theme from I-R. To be consistent, we should read human judgment in III-R as the embodiment of final cause in the judicial system. Similarly, the idols in III-L indicate an attempt to embody first causes in religion. It would seem then that the two pericopes taken together indicate the “embodied.” The first three pairs can then be read as: God(I), Soul(II) and Body(III).

Let’s have a look now at just how our developing structure compares with the books of the Torah. God as ultimate cause, pair I, is unmistakably parallel to Genesis. God’s activities in Egypt as well as His appearance at Mt. Sinai can be seen as the awe-inspiring parallel to pair II. How then does pair III connect to Leviticus?  God is not an active participant in Leviticus any more than He is in pair III. Disappears into the Tabernacle from where He calls out to Moses at the beginning of Leviticus. Man has created an object that serves to “capture” the divine spirit, not entirely unlike the objects mentioned in III-L. In broad terms, the focus has shifted from the divine perspective of Genesis and pair I to a human perspective in Leviticus and pair III.

Pair IV: Transcending the Limits

The first three pairs of pericopes form such a tightly crafted set that we may well wonder what could possibly be added to them. After all, we see a clear transition from the divine to the human, an actual descent from heaven to earth, as it were. Perhaps the beginning of IV-L is meant to respond to our perplexity. Here is man, aware of the enormous gulf between himself and God. He attempts to bridge the gulf by offering a sacrifice to God. But we, having opened the doors to the secret Torah, see that there is another act even more poignant than the sweet smell of the sacrifice ascending to heaven in the smoke of the altar. Love your neighbor as yourself! Here in the heart of the Torah is the source for all the prophets to come, the perfect tension between ritual and social justice. Now that we have learned to see the voices, it could not be more explicit. God speaks out to us today from between the cherubim just as He spoke to Moses. Son of man, would you share your flesh with God, then love your neighbor as yourself! In the previous pair of pericopes we saw the limits of human creativity. Now we will see how man can transcend his own limitations to become a voice for God in the world so that others may also see the voices.

Each pericope of the fourth pair presents a problem for the careful reader. There are two distinct and seemingly unrelated laws in IV-L. The first, A, regulates the period of time during which a peace offering can be eaten. The second, B, regulates the ways in which one harvests his fields and vineyards. Why are these divergent subjects joined in a single pericope? The problem in IV-R is somewhat different. I created the problem by including “you shall keep my statutes” in IV-R. In order to do this I had to take the unorthodox step of dividing a single verse. Actually, there is no more reason to connect the first half of verse 19 to the text that follows it, than there is to connect it to the preceding text. The textual problem is where to locate “you shall keep my statutes.” My analysis so far presents an excellent reason not to include it with IV-R. I have taken as a rule that the use of the phrase “I am the Lord (your God)” indicates the end of an element of text. By this rule, “you shall keep my statutes” belongs with the next element “You shall not let your cattle breed with a different kind…” as it does according to the division into verses. So why have I broken my rule to attach an appendix to an appendix? I believe we are looking at the exception that comes to prove the rule.

Once we have established that “I am the Lord” is a formal closure, we have defined the limit of an element of text. Anything that follows this phrase and still belongs to the preceding element has been defined by the text itself as excessive, beyond the limits, unnecessary, leftover. In order to understand why the text might be interested in demonstrating at this very point an example of “excess”, we must return to the problem of the parallel element, IV-L. We found two laws there without any clear connection. I propose that the connection is to be found in the literary imagery that flows out of the laws rather than in their legal content. Both laws deal with “leftovers.” The first tells us that we must burn any meat left over after the second day of eating, “Anything left over until the third day shall be burned with fire.” The second law tells us that any produce leftover in the field or on the vine after our initial harvesting must be left for the poor, “Neither shall you gather the gleanings.” The common subject “leftovers” includes things left both accidentally and intentionally, “you shall not strip your vineyard bare neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard.” There must be leftovers for the poor. The appendix “You shall keep my statutes” is in the category of leftovers for the poor. In order to justify this assertion, we will have to review what we have seen so far. But before we do so, I will point out an additional textual consideration for placing “my statutes” where I did.

Table 4 The Parallel Ends of IV and V

Leviticus 19 ends at the end of V-R, which is structurally parallel to the end of IV-R. The last words of V-R are “I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt. And you shall observe all my statutes and all my ordinances and do them.” The parallel end of IV-R is “keep my statutes.” The demand to “observe all my statutes” appears in V as part of a summation. We are therefore justified in reading the parallel phrase in IV as a summation, rather than an introduction to the next section. Now that we have a solid structural reason for seeing “observe my statutes” as a marker for the end of a section, I am more comfortable presenting it as a thematic element. I believe that the parallel “end line” markers in IV and V are there to guarantee that the end of IV-R is kept in place even though it comes after “I am the Lord”. Now we can see how it fits the context of the fourth pair.

Each pericope has two subjects, one that is appropriate to the general subject of its column, and one that seems like it should be in the other column. The subject which is appropriate to its column comes first, followed by the “extra” or “out of place” element. The first part of IV-L fits the “religious” character of the column because it is about an animal sacrificed to God. The first part of IV-R, like the rest of the column, speaks of social concerns. The second element of IV-R relates to God, while the second element of IV-L turns to social justice. In both cases the last element is out of place and can be seen as “excess.” This is essentially the same as the theme that we found in IV-L, “leftovers.” So we see that both the structure and the theme of pericopes IV-L and IV-R have a conceptual link based on “excess” “beyond the expected.”

We began the analysis of pair IV by noting that a-priori it seemed superfluous. The first three pairs seemed to be an ordered triad starting with the divine, above in heaven, as it were, and ending with man below in pair III. Pair II incorporated the interaction between the Divine and the mundane. So what remained to be told? Now here we are after a lengthy analysis of pair IV having come to the conclusion that its subject is “excess” “beyond the expected.” So what’s going on here? I believe that we have found a perfect textual representation of man transcending himself. The text is perfect because it demonstrates its theme through its structure as well as in its content. In terms of the structure, pair IV “goes beyond” the limits of “man” in pair III and thus transcends man. We have seen that both pericopes also “go beyond” themselves in their structure. The religious side shows concern for the poor while the civil side makes an appeal for divine laws. The content proper also goes beyond itself. In L man reaches out to heaven through his sacrifice. His “reaching out” extends past heaven to the poor of his land. In R he transcends himself to love another as himself. His concern for the other transcends human concerns to include God by maintaining His laws. At the very same time the text transcends God’s law of closure by extending past “I am the Lord.” Both columns transcend themselves in a different way. L adds a separate subject within the structural limits of the pericope while R extends beyond the limits.

Let’s summarize some of the things we have found in the first four pairs. We started by noting that the first pair presents God’s holiness as the reason or cause of human action. Pair II highlighted the sense of awe and indicated an area in which the human and the divine interact. Next, in III we witnessed the eclipse of God or embodiment of the divine in human activity. God was not visibly a part of either of the pericopes, although He was reflected in both the images of III-L and the judge of III-R. Finally, in pair IV, God reappears as an independent entity at the moment that man and the text transcend their physical limitations. At this very point the voice of prophecy calls out from between the cherubim demanding that the man who would make contact with the transcendent should limit his enjoyment of sacrifices lest he be anathema, “and that person shall be cut off from his people.” Instead, he should love his neighbor and provide for the poor. And this is the message at the heart of Leviticus, the book of sacrifices! Not only does man transcend himself at this point through his actions, even the text itself does, both in form and in content. There remain reams to write on this point. Again, just as in chapter four, we have seen how one can make herself a source of living water by listening carefully to the inner voice of the Torah.

The four pairs have described a progression: I God, II Soul, III Body, IV Action that transcends the self. Having noted the parallel between the process developing in our tablets and the books of the Torah, we are now in a position to see the similarity between pair IV and Numbers. Just as man limits himself in IV-L, God limits Himself in Numbers.

Pair V: Man in Substance and History

Pair V introduces a new level of complexity. Each unit of the pair, V-L and V-R, is composed of three distinct elements, A-C.

We will continue examining the parallel pericopes of columns L and R in row 3. The analysis is not intended to be exhaustive or even sufficient. We are merely looking to see whether the columns of row 3 parallel each other in a similar manner to the columns of row 1. After this preliminary examination of row 3 we will look more closely at each column separately.

Table 5: Row 3 Pair A

The common subject, “flesh” is announced in the beginning of L. It is emphasized by way of a double parallel of physical expressions. “Hair on your temples” in L parallels “hoary head” in R. A single Hebrew root, zkn, appears in L as “beard” and in R as “old man.” Pericope LA mentions both human and animal flesh. It apparently relates to both as ritual objects. Pericope RA also has two parts, one demanding respect for the aged, and the other fear of God. The word translated “fear” here is the same “yerah” that we encountered in pair II meaning “awe” or “respect” as well as fear. We also have the same problem here of how to understand the Hebrew connective letter vav translated “and” in RA. Parents, who are the object of this verb in II-L, are similar to the aged in being objects of respect or awe. It would then seem that the text implies that proper respect for older persons is equivalent to the fear-awe of God. A translation following this line of analysis would be something like: “When you rise for the hoary head…. you show awe for your God.”

The effect of the juxtaposition of V-LA and V-RA is striking. Together they point at the human body. However, they clearly look at it from differing perspectives. Pericope LA associates the human body with animal flesh. All the cultic practices mentioned are forbidden. There are no positive commandments in LA. Pericope RA, on the other hand, has only positive commandments and associates the aged with God. Taken together the two pericopes indicate that physical man combines animal-like flesh with an aspect of God. The specific divine quality has something to do with the countenance of the aged. We will develop this point in the next two pairs.

Table 6: V-LB and V-RB

The linguistic link between the pericopes is “land,” appearing twice in each. They also have a formal similarity. Both LB and RB include reasons for their laws that include the word “land”: “lest the land fall into harlotry,” “for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” A more material connection can be seen through the opposites of profaning a daughter and loving a stranger. The subject linking them could be described as “social relationships.” The mention of Sabbaths and sanctuary in LB seems out of place. If we look at them within the context of the general theme, “social relationships,” they become relevant as the times and place for congregational gatherings. We could then see a link with the history of the congregation in RB, “you were strangers.” We can then modify the general theme to something like “the connection between the individual and society.”

Table 7: V-LC and V-RC

While the last pair of pericopes lacks any linguistic or structural links, it has an obvious common subject, the supernatural. On the one hand this is expressed in “mediums or wizards.” On the other we find “I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt.” The connection with God is further amplified in RC. A single Hebrew word, mishpat, has been translated as human “judgment” as well as divine “ordinances.” Man is linked to God by carrying out divine justice. It is now apparent that the three pairs of pericopes in V create an ordered set. Having identified the common theme of pair C as contact with the supernatural, or perhaps better still, the transcendent, we can see that the first pair deals with the immanent, the physical body. Pair B describes relationships, contacts that intermediate between the immanent self and the transcendent other, just as the pair itself is the intermediary between A and C. We will now look at the triads within each column separately

The Two Triads in V

Column L

More than any specific subject, a survey of key words in these three pericopes reveals a common tone: “augury or witchcraft… cuttings in your flesh on account of the dead… profane your daughter by making her a harlot… full of wickedness… mediums or wizards… defiled by them.” All three pericopes demand avoidance of degenerate pagan practices or, perhaps, misguided spiritualism. In this framework the appearance of God’s Sabbaths and sanctuary appears extremely out of place. The test of whether or not we have understood this triplet is how well we can explain God’s appearing in the midst of corruption to demand respect for His Holy place and observance of His holy times. I think a solution can be found by considering the graphical effect of the three pericopes taken as a unit.

The heading for the triad should be something like “man- the spirit in the flesh.” It paints a picture of a, at best, misguided creature searching for the spirit within the flesh of animals “You shall not practice augury,” and men “Do not turn to mediums or wizards.” At the center, in his heart, he hears God’s call for holiness. But he doesn’t understand that the divine spark is not to be found within the physical flesh. While the Sabbath and Temple are central to his being, their importance tends to be diminished by his excessive attachment to the body. This is surely the essence of man.

Column R

All three pericopes contain positive commandments, positive formally, as opposed to prohibitions, and substantially, in that they promote social stability. As in column L the references to God, in A and C, seem almost gratuitous. There is a strong link between “I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt” in C and “you were strangers in the land of Egypt” in B. The appearance of old persons in A invites an attempt to connect them with the historical underpinnings of B and C. They are people who have experienced history. If we compare their perspective to that of the God of history in C, we can point to the contrast between personal and universal, or divine, history. Pericope B then fits in perfectly between A and C synthesizing the personal experience of A and the universal history of C in the form of communal experience. Taken together then, the three pericopes point to a process of universalization of experience, the creation of history. Within this framework even the utterly mundane weights and measures of C take on universal, and perhaps even transcendent, significance.

We now have a general idea of what is going on in pair V. In L we see an essentially limited physical man who maintains a spark of divine holiness within him. In R we see the face of humanity merge with the divine in history. There is a very striking interplay between the elements referring to God that seems to tie the two columns together. Column L refers to God only in element B, whereas column R refers to Him in A and C. The two columns thus “fit together” or complement each other structurally. This observation is reinforced by a linguistic link between the “God” elements of the two columns. “You shall keep my Sabbaths and reverence my sanctuary” in LB contains two verbs, “keep” (shamor) and “revere” (yerah). Each of the verbs is used in the two references to God in column R: in RA “you shall fear (yerah) your God” and in RC “you shall observe (shamor) all my statutes.” Looking at the fifth pair as a whole we can say that the same actions vis-à-vis the divine demonstrate different perspectives in the two columns. On the right side God provides the framework (A and C) for social activity on the historical plane. On the left side God maintains a spark of holiness (B) within the physical limitations of the individual. The two sides yearn for each other like two poles of a magnet, or like male and female, or like the two cherubim on the ark, or like the next chapter and me.