Zone-tailed Hawk : The Paradox of Freedom

This is a Zone-tailed Hawk. Watching hawks in the air reveals a full gamut of seemingly paradoxical beauties. They soar without flapping or seemingly even moving; their diving speeds are among the fastest of any animal. They float angelically on the slightest wisps of a breeze; their hunting is ferocious and unrelenting. They circle seemingly aimless and lazy; their piercing stare is an unrivaled targeting reticle. But in one critical respect, there is no dichotomy: they are utterly free and unconstrained.

Our tradition teaches that each morning we recite the Shema, and in doing so, we put on “the yoke of heaven.” The Sages thought a great deal about this word “yoke.” Tanakh prohibits yoking together different types of animals, and the why of that is of course debated. At a more esoteric level, we contemplate what it means for an intangible soul to be “trapped” in this most-worldly of implements. What is a spiritual yoke? A yoke both harnesses strength and provides direction, the essence of service both physical and spiritual.

Judaism paradoxically finds liberation through service. The yoke of heaven constrains our actions and simultaneously frees our souls. Each morning begins anew our voluntary commitment to “avodah,” a word which itself has been redeemed from the most dehumanizing drudgery of Egyptian slavery and become the aspirational glory of our most spiritual work. Paradox again. Our true freedom emerges precisely when we directedly work towards the fulfillment of mitzvot. Like the Hawk, we can soar and be free, but we do so by harnessing our strength together to build our holy community.