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    CHUKAT: THE PAIN DOES NOT DISAPPEAR, BUT IT CAN HEAL ME LOOKING UP: THE MEANING BEHIND THE SNAKE ON THE POLE

    No Complaining
    After seventy years
    of communist
    oppression and
    seven hours of
    flying, Boris, a
    burly immigrant
    from Moscow steps off the plane in a free
    land to begin his new life in his new home,
    Israel. Standing at the Ben Gurion airport
    in Tel Aviv, a young and enthusiastic Israeli
    reporter plunges a microphone in front of
    him with a level of excitement that is only
    seen when an inside scoop is about to be
    caught. The reporter asks with focus: “Tell
    me, what was life back in Russia like?”
    To which the Russian immigrant replies: “I
    couldn’t complain.”
    An obviously unexpected answer, the
    young reporter continues to probe: “Well
    how were your living quarters there?” To
    which the Russian responds “I couldn’t
    complain.”
    Not expecting this answer either, the
    reporter decides to hit him with a question
    that is bound to get the answer he is looking
    for: “What about your standard of living?”
    To which the Russian replies again: “I
    couldn’t complain.”
    At this point, the reporter’s frustration with
    the new immigrant’s answers reaches a
    crescendo, and so in a derogatory tone the
    reporter yells out, “Well, if everything was
    so wonderful back in Russia, then why did
    you even bother to come here?” To which
    the new immigrant replies with gusto:
    “Oh, here I can complain!”
    The Serpents
    It is a strange biblical episode — in this
    week’s parsha, Chukat.
    When poisonous snakes attack the Jews in
    the desert, G-d instructs Moshe to fashion
    a special healing instrument: a pole topped
    with the form of a snake. Moshe sculptures
    a snake of copper and duly places it on top
    of a pole. Those who had been afflicted by
    the snake bite would gaze on the serpentine
    image on the pole and be cured.
    According to some historians, this was the

    forerunner of the caduceus, the snake-
    entwined rod which is today the emblem of

    the medical profession.
    Yet 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 the need to look up at a copper snake
    atop a pole? The question is raised in the
    Talmud:
    “But is the snake capable of determining
    life and death?!” the Talmud asks. And the
    answer is this: “Rather, when Israel would
    gaze upward and bind their hearts to their
    Father in Heaven, they would be healed;
    and if not, they would perish.” Fixing their
    eyes on the snake alone would not yield
    any cure; it was looking upward toward
    G-d, 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
    believe that it is the copper snake that is the
    cause of healing?
    In fact, this is exactly what occurred. The
    copper snake that Moshe made was
    preserved for centuries. In the passage of
    time, however, its meaning became
    distorted, and people began to say that the
    snake possessed powers of its own. When
    it reached the point of becoming an image
    of idolatry, the Jewish King Chizkiyahu (in
    the 6th century BCE) destroyed the copper
    snake fashioned by Moshe, and that was
    the end of that special copper snake.
    Which only reinforces the question: Why
    ask people to look up at a man-made snake
    which can lead down the path to a
    theological error of deifying the snake?
    There is another question. The snake was
    the reptile that caused the harm in the first
    place. Healing, it would seem, would come
    from staying far away from serpents. Why
    in this case was the remedy born from
    gazing at the very venomous creature
    which caused the damage to begin with?
    A Tale of Two Snakes
    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. Have you ever been bitten by a
    “venomous snake”? Poisoned by harmful
    people, burnt by life, or by abusive
    situations? Have you ever been crushed by
    a clueless principal, a manipulative boss, a
    deceiving partner, a toxic relationship?
    Were you ever backstabbed by people you
    trusted? Is your anxiety killing you? Are
    you weary and demoralized by your life
    experience?
    What is the deeper meaning of suffering?

    And how do some
    people know how to
    accept affliction with
    love and grace?
    These are good
    questions that cannot be
    answered easily, if at
    all. But one perspective
    is presented in the story
    of the serpents. G-d tells
    Moshe: “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
    suggests, is not by fleeing the cause of the
    suffering, but by gazing at it. Don’t run
    from the snake; look at it. Because deep
    inside the challenge, you will find the cure.
    Deep inside the pain, you will find the
    healing light.
    But there is one qualification: you must
    look up to the snake; you must peer into
    the reality of the snake above, on top of the
    elevated pole, not on the serpent crawling
    here below.
    The Austrian-British philosopher Ludwig
    Wittgenstein (1889-1951), who had three
    Jewish grandparents and was considered
    by many to be one of the greatest
    philosophers of the 20th century, once said
    that his aim as a philosopher was, “to show
    the fly the way out of the fly-bottle.” The
    fly keeps banging its head against the glass
    in a vain attempt to get out. The more it
    tries, the more it fails, until it drops from
    exhaustion. The one thing it forgets to do is
    look to the sky.
    Every experience in life can be seen from
    two dimensions – from a concrete, earthly
    perspective, or from a higher, more sublime
    vantage point, appreciating its true nature
    and meaning from the Divine
    perspective. There is the “snake” down
    here, and there is the very same “snake” up
    there. I can experience my challenges,
    struggles, and difficulties in the way they
    are manifested down here. But I can also
    look at these very same struggles from a
    more elevated point of view. The
    circumstances may not change, but their
    meaning and significance will. From the
    “downer” perspective, these challenges,
    curveballs, painful confrontations, and
    realizations can throw me into despair or
    drain me of my sap. From the “higher”
    perspective, the way G-d sees these very
    same realities, every challenge contains
    the seeds for rebirth. Within every crisis

    lies the possibility of a new and deeper
    discovery.
    Many of us know this from our personal
    stories: Events that at the time were so
    painful to endure, in retrospect were those
    that inspired the most growth. Those
    painful events moved us from the surface
    to the depths, challenging us to become
    larger than we ever thought we can be, and
    stimulating conviction and clarity
    unknown to us before.
    This is not about suppressing the pain. On
    the contrary, it is about taking the pain
    back to its deepest origin; going with it
    back to its primal source, seeing it for what
    it really is in its pristine state.
    To perceive clarity from the midst of
    agonizing turmoil we must train ourselves
    to constantly look upward. When faced
    with a “snake,” with a challenge, many
    people look to their right or to their left.
    Either they fight, or they cave in. But there
    is another path: look upwards. See the
    “snake” from the perspective above.
    And in that upward gaze, you might find a
    new sense of healing: the questions might
    become the very answers, the problems
    may become the solutions, and the venom
    may become the cure. Remarkably,

    snakebites today are cured with anti-
    venom manufactured from small quantities

    of snake venom that stimulate the
    production of antibodies in the blood.
    It’s the same idea taught by Moshe: The
    source of the affliction itself becomes the
    remedy. This is true in all areas of life. As
    viewed by the Creator, from the perspective
    above, transgression is the potential for a
    new self-discovery; failure is the potential
    for deeper success, holes in a marriage are
    the seeds of “renovation” to recreate a far
    deeper relationship, the end of an era is
    always the beginning of a new one, pain is
    a springboard for deeper love and
    frustration is the mother of a new
    awareness.