“Assemble the whole Israelite community, and bring the Levites forward before the Lord. Let the Israelites lay their hands upon the Levites, and let Aaron designate the Levites before the Lord as an elevation offering from the Israelites, that they may perform the service of the Lord. The Levites will then lay their hands upon the heads of the bulls…to make expiation for the Levites.” (Leviticus, 8:10 – 8:12)
In an age where body-based wisdom and healing is finally becoming more widely respected, it is particularly wonderful to read these Biblical passages about the transformative power of touch.
The root verb for this laying of hands is‘s-m-k’ – סמכ…the root of the word ‘smicha’ – which is the ritual of Rabbinic ordination. Ideally smicha connotes that, instead of just bestowing a paper diploma, there is an actual transference of energy that takes place as one takes on that communal role of becoming a Rabbi, a leader and teacher. Tragically, it is said that the secret to this ‘energy transference’ has been lost and so is not practiced anymore. How can we as a society and as a religion get back “in touch” with the more body-oriented mystically-informed truths of our tradition
This is a poem calling for such a reorientation towards sacred embodiment, where our prayers and our palms meet, creating healing and transformation.
To Place a Palm
Imagine the intention
To place a palm upon a person
And with that touch
Turn them to priest
...or priestess?
And an entire nation of people
Gathered for that purpose
It’s a certain kind of physics
We have yet to formulate
These ancient scrolls are hardly
data hard and dictum
in the marble halls of man
but they hold a certain
kind of certainty for those who understand for those who read reality
upon a scroll of skin
*
Symbol won’t suffice
For my sort of sacrifice
When I lay my hand upon your sleeve
I want the land to heave
With energy
I want light to more than metaphor
But move and make a world
Where emotion is a motion that endures
I want tongue
To make a waterway of change
I want prostration to move mountains
Purge pollution pacify pain
I want a photosynthesis of feeling
That leans towards the sun
I want a poem
To page the powerful
And watch them stand and run
I want prayer
To speak explosives
to silence every gun
So let us place our palms
with purpose
and let forgiveness
lace our thumbs