The
Sabbath's Place in Human Beings
Rabbi Ze'ev Haim Lifshitz
Translated
by Dr. Sara
Nathan
LÕilui
Nishmat
Esther Bat Mordechai
L'ilui Nishmat Meyer Hirsh ben Laibel
"...Take
some
roots of Sabbath, some essence of praise and awareness, and
some
essence of joy
and confidence. Remove the pits of anguish and
anxiety.
Take the
flower from the pomegranates of knowledge and insight, and add
roots of
patience and acceptance. Grind everything in a mill of
self-effacement,
and cook in a pot of humility. Knead with sweetened
words and
emulsify in
a solution of grace and lovingkindness.
Feed
the patient who
is suffering from despair..."
From Introduction to Sefer HaNimtsa, attributed to the
Rambam.
To understand the RambamÕs "cure" for despair, we must examine
Sabbath
itself, and the Jew, and the place that he occupies in the
world.
We can
begin with some basic principles that pertain to Sabbath, and
that
derive from
the classical Jewish sources:
1. The laws of Sabbath [1] are
"mountains
that
hang upon a thread."
2. Only "kavana,"
conscious intention, can determine
whether a particular action constitutes a transgression of
Sabbath or
is merely
"a labor that is not needed."
3. "Premeditated labor" is forbidden.
4. The principles of Sabbath observance are determined
by what
transpires
at the human level, rather than by the technical act itself.
5. Objective halacha
depends upon subjective intent.
To discuss the Jew, we must begin with the basic
assumption that he
does not
operate in the same way that a non-Jew operates. A
Jew's
existence is an
endless process of change. This can be a good thing,
and it can
also be a
bad thing. The Jewish condition contrasts sharply
with the
non-Jewish
condition: A non-Jew exists within a clearly defined,
well-established
framework. His reality is solid and
dependable. It is with
this
perspective that we examine the laws of Sabbath.
Sabbath, and Torah study, deviate from the subject-object
relationship
that is
normally associated with a mitsvah.
The normal relationship is one-way: From Jew to
environment, from the
acting
human being to the object being acted upon. These two
mitsvos, however,
are
based upon a principle of reciprocity. The mitsva, and the
performer of
the
mitsva, mutually affect and are affected by one
another. These
two mitsvos
express - more than any other aspect of God's worship -
the mutual
relations
that exist between man and his Creator.
Man creates the Sabbath. He is expected to "make
Sabbath," and
not
only to "keep Sabbath:" "The children of Israel
shall keep
the Sabbath, to make the Sabbath for their generations -
an eternal
covenant."[2]
On the other hand, Sabbath creates the man.[3]
Sabbath is a reality of its own. It does not
resemble anything formed by man or God. An
entirely new entity,
created
"Yesh me Ayin,"
"being
out of non-being," it is formed - it grows and
evolves - out of a set
of
codes and signals that is continuously
communicated between Creator and
Jew:
"Between Me and the children of Israel, it is a
sign forever."
The reality that is called Sabbath is created
cooperatively between the
Jew and
his Creator.
Sabbath is created by the keeper of Sabbath, by
the way that he
expresses the
sanctity unfolding within him, by the way he
expresses his yearning for
redemption from physical matter, by the way he
realizes the spirit of
God that
is in him. It is a dialectic process that
transforms the Jew's
most
sublime spiritual awareness into an experience
that is tangible and
accessible
to the physical senses.
This transformation comes about through detachment
from practical
activity. This includes even practical
activity that is creative,
perhaps
especially so. We detach ourselves from the
creative conquest of
external
reality. On Sabbath, a Jew turns inward,
into his own self.
It is
the time for creating himself, by expressing the
godly element that is
in him,
by expressing his self.
The self refers to that innermost quality within
oneself, the source of
which
is in God. By expressing the self, a Jew is
renewed. He is
transformed into an entity of godly
presence. Expressing the self
leaves
a powerful impression upon the expresser.
All of his senses are
moved by
it. He becomes renewed by the experience of
self-
expression. New
powers are engendered within him, so new that they
may be described as
new
creation - as the creation of "being out of
non-being;" he can attain
a stature that is above and beyond the limits of
his inborn potential.
Sabbath is created, and Sabbath creates in
turn. It is created by
the Jew
and it creates and renews the Jew by a "bounteous
outpouring" that
breaks through all prior assumptions of human
limitation.
A non-Jew may not enter the inner sanctum of
Sabbath. He may not
force
his way into Sabbath, nor seek to taste of its
fragrance. It
would not be
an experience of renewal or enrichment for the
non-Jew. Rather it
would
be "wealth retained for its owner's
undoing." For bounty to
enrich, it must suit the owner's capacity to
digest. This applies
to Sabbath,
and to the study of the Torah.
"IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE PRIMAL ACT OF GENESIS."
"IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE EXODUS FROM EGYPT."
Two remembrances rather than one make Sabbath
different from every
other
mitsva. "In remembrance of the exodus from
Egypt" is a theme
underlying many mitsvos, including Sabbath.
However, Sabbath
bears
another element as well: "In remembrance of
the primal act,"
i.e. the creation of the physical universe.
Sabbath promises its observers a rare privilege:
Man and physical
universe are
enveloped within a tangible godly presence, and
godly presence is
actualized in
man and physical universe.
How does actualization take place?
The inner, subjective human quality must find its
self-expression by
uniting
with the outer objective reality. It must be
an individual
expression -
one's unique self actualizing its own exclusive
potential.
Sabbath is a
man's one chance to reveal his secret longing, for
he forever longs and
wishes
that actualization of his spirit could be the
exclusive goal of his
material
existence.
Upholding the Sabbath constitutes a victory of
spirit over matter, a
liberation
of the qualitative spirit from the confining
stranglehold of time and
space. And all of this is accomplished
without being forced to
detach
oneself from the material world. One is
indeed required to view
the
material world as positive, pleasurable, and
tangibly real. "You
shall call Sabbath pleasure," "a
semblance of the world
to come," in this world. It is here, with
Sabbath, that Judaism
celebrates the mystery of its triumph and its
eternity.
Ordinary religious sensibilities perceive physical
matter as an
obstacle.
Yet sublime Providence comes to tell us that other
possibilities exist;
that
spiritual content can be preserved in the garments
of physical matter,
that
there are tools for actualizing the spirit that
are exclusive to the
physical
domain.
Under normal circumstances, it can be a dangerous
venture - trying for
cooperation between spirit and matter. A man
can feel that he has
stumbled into someone else's battle - both demand
that he choose
sides...he
escapes by the skin of his teeth, sustaining
injuries from both
factions...
But Sabbath wears the apparel of physical matter
gloriously, as implied
in the
verse "they made loincloths for themselves."[4] On Sabbath, it is the
Creator of the universe
Himself in all His glory, Who clothes the keeper
of Sabbath in glory,
in
remembrance of the primal act.
TWO REMEMBRANCES: TWO APPROACHES TO THE MAN /
UNIVERSE CONNECTION
Remembering the Primal Act of Genesis.
One relates to the world of action...by acting:
There are many acts
whose main
essence is in the doing, in the fact that they are
being
executed. We
view all such acts from their practical
perspective: We fulfil the
practical mitsvas
- we take the lulav, we dwell in the suca, we put on tefilin,
we help one another, we do acts of chesed.
Yet there are other mitsvas that take place only
within the heart:
Belief in
God, confidence in God, awareness of the
"remembrances" etc.
The fulfillment of these mitsvos leaves no
tangible mark on the
objective world
of action. The mitsva unfolds between
oneself and one's
Possessor, in the
inner spaces of the heart.
It is needless to mention that the practical
mitsvas are not meant to
be
carried out mindlessly - mere monkey's tricks
devoid of personal
meaning or
intent. Nevertheless, it takes very little
to satisfy the halacha.
"Mitsvas require conscious
intent,[5]" in the
simplest sense
of the word; the doer must be aware at the
time of doing, that his
doing is for
the sake of mitsva.
To attempt other, "higher" intentions, is to
entangle oneself in the
famous controversy over the passage originated
by the Chassidic
movement:
"For the sake of the union of the Holy One and
the Immanent Divine
Presence..." This passage was to be
recited prior to the
performance
of every mitsva.
Noda BeYehuda rejects this practice of
reciting additional passages, on
the
following grounds: "Whoever adds,
detracts." [6]
Maimonides' position supports Noda
BeYehuda.
There need be only one intention when
sounding the shofar,
Maimonides writes: There need be
only the intention to fulfill
what is written in the Torah. We
sound it because "the Merciful
One
said, 'sound it.'"[7]
We see, then, that there is an entire
category of mitsvas that focuses
upon
effecting objective change in the
physical, external world.
The internal/external distinction has
wide application. It is the
crimson
thread running through the entire
spectrum of human activity: Certain
behaviors
are intended to establish facts, to
attain an objective in the
field.
Other behaviors are intended to serve as
an expression for some inner
meaning,
for some emotion, for the outlet of an
accumulated reservoir of
emotion.
In this second category, activity
unfolds within the inner human self,
it cannot
be seen with the physical eye. It
is a behavior, but it takes
place
within the subject. There is no
defined expression. No mark
is made
upon any object.
Sabbath is the only mitsva that
addresses the innermost depths of human
awareness, that expresses the very most
sensitive and delicate among
human
emotions and thought processes, and yet
at the same time intends
clearly to
establish a definite fact in a definite
field of objective reality.
We see, then, that the act of Sabbath
unites "being" with
"doing."
This is called "the world of yetsira."
It
is the point of encounter between the
world of spirit and the world
of
matter. The reality that exists
in "the world of yetsira" is
entirely the fruit of human
creativity.
Creating reality in "the world of yetsira"
is a unifying
act. For one
must take one's
materials from "the world of asiyah,"
of doing. Then one must
endow them with idealism, with
meaning,
and with
values, that one has drawn from
the sublime world - "the world
of briah."
To achieve this, one must
travel the road of personal
involvement with
the
act. One must bestow
one's own meaningful value and
direction
upon an
external object, and thus - a
private and personal
relationship with an
objective external mitsva is
achieved. A merger takes
place. Inner
quality is bestowed upon an
external quantitative
act.
It is then that a truly real
reality unfolds, weighted with
qualitative
meaning. Reality is
transformed - it becomes an
utterly new
entity.
Its like has never previously
existed, and will never exist
again.
The act of Sabbath relates to
only this sort of loaded and
charged
reality. Sabbath ignores
the more paltry realities, the
one-sided
realities, whether they are
the overly internalized
reality of inner
feelings
that lack practical tangible
expression, or whether they
are the overly
externalized reality of
objective phenomena that are
detached from
inner human
intention.
Either of these, when detached
from the other, is irrelevant
-
ineffectual. Relevant
only is that perfect balancing
act, which
is the
halachic observance of
Sabbath, as reflected in the
elusive mishnaic
description, "mountains that
hang upon a hair."
This phrase alludes to the
ultra-fine balance of forces,
the symbiotic
dependency shared by universe
and human being, that
characterizes the
Sabbath
encounter. Compare this
with the merely secular act;
all that
counts are
the recordable facts in the
measurable field.
A threat is constantly
hovering over man and his
deeds: There is the
danger of
a split. The two may
come apart. A crack may
develop
between
"to be" and "to do," and it
can widen into a yawning and
devastating fissure - to the
point where a man's practical
life has no
relationship to his inner
needs.
On Sabbath, this contingency
disappears. It is wafted
away by the
ultra-subtle, ultra-delicate
ultra-sensitive fragrance of
the
victorious
"to be." "To be" is on
top. It acts as sole
determiner of the practical
actions of "to do," whether
prohibiting
(refraining from desecrating
the Sabbath) or permitting
(bestowing
sanctity
upon the observances of
Sabbath).
The vast no-man's-land that
sprawls between the inner and
outer realms
disappears on Sabbath: Sabbath
is about bestowing your own
inner
quality upon
an external act. It is
about creating a new reality,
a new fact
in the
field, laden with your own
unfolding human process,
steeped in the wine
of your
own idealistic yearnings, in
the very purpose of your
existence, in
your
spiritual goal.
Here one enters "the world of
yetsira," of creativity,
here one "glories
in the work of [one's]
hands." Here, in
Sabbath, a Jew creates a
three-way encounter: Creator ('dimension
of sublime values, of
height;' the
"world of bria,"
of Divine
creation) / man (one's
unique
and personal awareness
of sublime values,
expressed in one's
private
"world of yetsira," of
creativity) /physical
universe.
(For
man's expression of
creativity to take
place in the "world
of yetsira," he must
draw upon the
'real-world'
physical and
material
substances found
in "the world of asiya," of
practical
doing).
In sum, it is man
who bestows
material "asiya"
substance upon
sublime "bria"
values.
Out of this
encounter -
that can be
effected only
by a human
being - a new
reality is
born.
The laws of
entropy have
no power
against this
new reality -
it has
been
immunized by
Sabbath.
Integrity -
integration -
is the gift
that
Sabbath
bestows upon
the Jew, in
return for the
gift of
integrity that
he
bestows upon
the
universe.
The separate
components
that comprise
the human
personality
become
consolidated
into one
whole.
This solidity
- and this
wholeness - is
permanent, in
a
way that does
not exist in
nature.
The lasting
value of this
transformation
has no
equivalent
within the
natural
network of
human
being-universe
relations.
Hence the
claim that the
resting of
Sabbath
supplies a
source of
energy
unknown
and
unavailable in
the secular
realm: In the
secular
reality,
energy is
wasted,
expended.
More is sent
out than is
taken
in. One
finds more
the
waste of
energy than
the creation
of
energy.
Sabbath,
unlike the
six days
of doing,
conducts
energy to -
rather than
from - the
human
being.
The
replenishment,
plus bonus, of
one's energy
supply at
weekly
intervals
compensates
for energies
drained and
depleted
during the
week.
It is
important to
point out that
man's
empowerment
and his
control
over
reality within
the "world of
yetsira"
does not occur
automatically.
Rather, it
follows the
rule of -
"Make
His will, your
will, so that
He will make
your will, His
will."[8]
The human
being who
lives by the
Creator's
rules can
determine the
rules of the
game of his
own
reality.
What he says,
goes - because
his will is
God's will.
"A just
man decrees
and the Holy
One fulfils,"
and "not in
Heaven is [the
Torah]."
Halachic
authority is
vested in the
man
who
lives by halacha
and who
arrives at
legal verdict
according to halacha.
Heaven itself
facilitates
his work, and
God smiles on
him, saying,
"my
children have
triumphed over
me."[9]
But Sabbath is
the focal
point for all
of this.
The "world of
yetsira"
revolves
around
Sabbath.
It is on
Sabbath
that a Jew
sets down the
rules of the
game of
reality.
These are
the
rules that he
creates; they
are the fruit
of his own
creative
qualitative
spirit.
It is by these
rules that he
will conduct
himself during
the days
of the
following
week, and it
is by the
light of their
inspiration
that
he will
form his
response to
the days of
the preceding
week.
The
conclusions
that
he draws will
be colored by
this
inspiration.
His
perspective
upon the
world of
action is
imbued with a
new light,
drawn from the
dimension of
height.
Thus does the
Jew look down
upon reality
from
above.
He
encompasses
it,
he controls
it, and he
even creates
it anew.
It is a new
reality
- in
which the days
of the week
become the
material
actualization
of the
spiritual
quality of
Sabbath.
So empowered
does a Jew
become,
through the
inspiration of
Sabbath,
that the
delicate
balance of
human-universe
relations - as
reflected in
the
subtle
textures of
the natural
processes
which enable
"natural"
non-Jewish
man - may
sometimes be
"jeopardized."
It is true
that these
processes are
certainly
determined by
free
choice, a
trait that is
shared in
common with
all those who
are created in
God's
image.
Yet although
created in
God's image,
all other
human
creatures are
bound within a
system of
natural
laws.
The Jewish
freedom of
choice
contains an
additional
quality:
Empowerment.
It
appears that a
Jew is capable
of taking
control of the
material
systems.
Sabbath
liberates the
Jew
significantly
from the
impositions of
natural
reality,
whether for
better or for
worse.
This means
that a Jew
must bear
responsibility
for what
transpires
within the
universe.
Here we are
afforded an
insight into
the peculiarly
Jewish
susceptibility
to any and
every ideal of
social
justice.
Reciprocity
and covenant
characterize
the
relationship
between Jew
and
Creator
of the
universe on
Sabbath:
"Between Me
and the
children of
Israel
it is a sign
forever."
Would a
non-Jew
presume to
enter this
innermost
space, into
the mystery
of the
sanctity of
Sabbath, he
would be
forced to
renounce his
natural,
rule-governed
relationship
to the
universe.
At the same
time, he would
not have
the
system of
Torah and
mitsvos to
enable him to
build his own
world of yetsira.
In
other words,
he
would still
remain
subordinate to
natural
law.
This is too
heavy a burden
for a
human being
to bear.
Sabbath:
REALITY IS
CREATED /
REALITY
CREATES.
"And the
children of
Israel shall
keep the
Sabbath to
make the
Sabbath
a
covenant
forever.
Between Me and
between the
children of
Israel,
it is a
sign forever."[10]
Sabbath
commemorates
the primal act
of Genesis,
and the exodus
from
Egypt.
These two
"remembrance"
principles
direct the Jew
to view
Sabbath
simultaneously
from two
perspectives:
Firstly,
Sabbath as the
foundation
supporting the
created
universe.
Secondly,
Sabbath as the
foundation
that
supports each
member of
Israel, that
is, every
single
individual
Jew. How
so?
To understand
this, we must
focus briefly
on the
developing
processes
of the
created
universe.
'Developing'
is not quite
the right word
to
describe
the processes
that
constitute the
created
universe.
'Unfolding'
would be
a more
faithful and
accurate
term.
Development
implies flow
along a fixed
channel.
The flow is
subject to
fixed laws,
and follows a
course that is
fixed in space
and
time.
Definite and
fixed stages
for every
process may be
predicted in
advance.
'Unfolding' is
not determined
by fixed
causal
factors.
Rather,
many
factors
coalesce from
many
directions.
The most
important
factor,
the
cause that
transpires
within the
inner spaces
of the human
being, is
not
accessible to
definition at
all. It
is not
fixed.
It is
undefined
and
unpredictable.
Fixedness,
predictability,
following
predetermined
rules - all
these are
remote indeed
from the inner
spaces of
human
consciousness.
For accuracy's
sake we must
point out that
'becoming,' or
'unfolding,'
although
central to the
dynamic of the
created
universe, is
not
necessarily
discernible
at every level
of
creation.
In fact,
inanimate
objects seem
most
characterized
by fixedness;
with
vegetative
growth, it is
slightly less
so.
Even the
animal does
not really
diverge from
the realm of
the
established
pattern,
despite the
fact that its
fixedness is
of a kind that
permits
certain
changes.
These changes
are more
readily
discernible
than the
severely
limited
processes of
change found
in the
developmental
stages of
plants
and inanimate
objects.
The human race
does not
partake of any
of these
patterns.
It
diverges
entirely from
the realm of
fixedness, and
the definition
of 'unfolding'
relates
precisely to
its
condition.
If we may
continue to
use this
distinction -
if we may
differentiate
between
developing and
unfolding - we
find that
it
applies even
among human
beings:
There are
people for
whom fixedness
is a
predominant
characteristic,
while the
process of
unfolding is
less
discernible in
them.
Such is the
case with
the very young
child, and
such is the
case with the
very simple
and
uncomplicated
individual.
He attains a
state of
completed
development
much earlier
than the
highly complex
or qualitative
individual.
The more
multi-faceted
a person is,
the more
comprised of
many and
various
qualities,
the later he
will arrive at
permanence.
It would not
be far from
the
truth to call
a highly
qualitative
and richly
talented
person a
creature who
occupies a
continuous
state of
unfolding.
Yet, there is
an opposite
side to this
coin.
Too much flux
- too
much of
the condition
of perpetual
change - puts
the
personality at
risk.
It
threatens that
minimum of
fixedness that
does exist,
that is
necessary
and
indispensable
for the basic
image of the
self.
To threaten
this basic,
non-negotiable
level of
stability is
to invite
personal
deterioration.
It is to sink
into the
abyss, and
disintegrate.
The
normal human
condition is
one of
composite
wholeness,
comprised of
many
aspects
merged and
functioning
together.
To
disintegrate
is to break
the
composition
down to its
separate and
distinct
components -
what is termed
the
process of
entropy in the
language of
physics.
If we would
wish to define
the difference
between Jew
and non-Jew,
we
might
perhaps
attribute to
the Jew a
distinguishing
trait of being
continuously
unfolding.
Otherwise how
to explain the
restlessness,
the
effervescence,
the
constant
movement, the
rapid and
radical
changes of
perspective,
the swings
from
one
extreme to
another that
characterize
the Jew; a
phenomenon
quite
disturbing to
the outside
observer, and
also quite
disturbing to
the Jew
himself.
What of the
neurotic and
relentless
quest after
new truths;
the endless
search
for the
endlessly
elusive
utopia?
These searches
can be most
disconcerting;
they are just
as likely to
lead backward
as to lead
forward.
Consider also
the Jew's lack
of
consideration
for the facts
of reality,
and his
peculiar
interpretation
of them.
It is amazing
by its very
absence of
logic, by the
strange and
subjective
combinations
he makes of
the
objective
facts in the
field - a
peculiar mix
of principles
and facts, of
dream
and
reality.
Ideals and
existential
compulsion
fuse together
into a
matrix
that is
characterized
more by change
than by any
constancy of
feature.
Do not bother
the typical
Jew with
facts.
It is a simple
matter
for him
to reach the
point where he
cannot stop
himself from
crossing red
lines
that he
himself has
drawn.
And we must
not forget the
fear of the
unknown.
This is the
archetype of
all fear, and
it is the
Jew's bread
and
butter.
Care to
establish
rapport with
an
uncommunicative
Jew?
Bring up
the
subject of
health; you
are assured of
boundless
sympathy.
Jewish
anxiety
over health
vies only with
the notorious
Jewish anxiety
over earning a
living. And
what of the
guilt that
gnaws at the
Jew, that
undermines his
confidence in
his own
ability (an
ability
usually
greater than
that of
the
people seeking
to undermine
his confidence
in it) but too
much has
already been
said and
written on
this
subject.
Can it be mere
coincidence
that
it was the
Jews who
invented
psychology out
of thin
air?
"Being out of
non-being."
"Sabbath
comes, rest
comes."
Can it
be? It
happens
instantaneously.
There is a
certain moment
- among the
flickering
moments
of twilight -
that is no
more than the
blink of an
eye, and
Sabbath is
suddenly
here. An
invisible hand
sweeps across
the horizon,
wiping anxiety
away, and
fear, and the
distresses of
existence -
they have
melted away,
they are
gone. Is
it
possible?
What is
Sabbath's
power to work
this
wonder?
The covenant
between God
and Jew that
is called
Sabbath,
operates at
the level
of
reciprocity;
it is a mutual
relationship
between
equals.
A brit of
equality
transpires
between the
Creator and
the work
of his
hands.
That is - on
Sabbath,
creature
becomes
creator.
The Creator of
the universe
bestows of his
unlimited
creative power
upon the
Jew who keeps
Sabbath.
The resting
that is
demanded of
the Jew on
Sabbath is not
necessarily a
resting
of the body,
but rather a
rest from the
fatigue of
time and from
the
distresses
of
existence.
Sabbath rest
is built upon
liberation
from the
struggle for
survival.
The basis of
the survival
system is fear
and anxiety -
especially
when we
consider the
Jew:
Confronting
the struggle
for
survival, the
Jew feels a
heavy yoke of
responsibility;
he bears the
weight of the
entire
universe upon
his
shoulders.
But on
Sabbath, God
commands a Jew
to take a
break - it is
time out
from the
fight for
existence.
The Jew must
transfer
responsibility,
now,
to the
real owner, to
the Creator of
the
universe. A
new definition
of
rest thus
rises out of
the Sabbath
experience.
It is
discovery.
One
discovers
the role that
is unique to
the godly
presence that
is
oneself.
The
purpose of
one's
existence is
examined in
this new
light.
Specific
personal
qualities,
specific
expressions of
talent,
abilities
that are
unique to
oneself alone:
All of these
are perceived
with new
reverence.
For
it is
expressing
your specific
personal
quality,
rather than
anxiety over
your struggle
for existence,
that truly
fulfills the
will of the
Creator.
And if you
fulfill the
will of your
Creator, you
find that the
Creator
Himself,
in all His
glory,
occupies
Himself with
protecting
your existence
- in
the
sense of "cast
the burden of
your existence
upon God and
he will
sustain you."[11]
During the
course of the
week, this
great truth
grows rusty;
gradually
it is
covered with
dust. It
is impossible
to clean it
off during the
workweek.
How will it
shine forth in
all its
pristine
purity?
Man
is too
desperately
confronting
the business
of
survival.
"One who
immerses [for
purity] with
an insect in
his hand - his
immersion
is
ineffective."
He must set
aside the
business of
self-preservation.
He must clear
a space in his
heart, a quiet
place where
he is free,
where he can
contemplate
the things
that are
important.
This turning
away from the
rule of the
jungle,
automatically
pushes ego
aside.
Ego, and
self-preservation,
are mechanical
systems
characterized
by sheer
absence of
content.
Meaning and
content are
marginal
factors in
the world of
ego.
How different
things look
when the inner
self, the
abode of
quality,
the focus
of creative
and original
being -
demands center
stage.
The self
is not
satisfied with
laboring for
its mere
existence,
because such
toil
expresses no
quality.
Mere existence
is a blind
machine; one
presses the
appropriate
button and the
machine is
activated by
external
stimulus.
The self
disdains such
manipulation.
The self is
the
representative
of the spirit;
it is all
quality, it is
all supreme
value.
It has
one
main interest:
Realizing the
image of God
that is in
man.
When
the self
is freed, it
is drawn
upward, to
cooperate with
its Creator as
one
equal with
another.
A sacred
covenant is
signed on
Sabbath.
It is between
man and his
Creator.
"I" is
manifest most
clearly on
Sabbath,
because
Sabbath frees
it
from its
confinement,
from the
"hiddenness of
[God's] face"
which
normally
characterizes
its worldly
existence.
Personal
preoccupation
with the labor
of survival is
a
one-directional
involvement
from inner to
outer.
It empties man
of the
vitality whose
source
is in the
self Ego
is the true
thief.
Ego robs the
self of its
infinite
creative
vitality, and
ego never
troubles
itself to
return what it
has
stolen.
Ego's demands
actually
starve one's
authentic
human
needs, as the
Talmud
implies:
"If you
satisfy it -
it starves; if
you starve it
-
it is
satisfied."
In contrast to
ego, the self
is an active
partner in the
work of
creativity.
In doing the
selfÕs work,
one's vitality
is never
drained,
rather it is
renewed and
increased.
When "I"
cleaves to its
task, the
entire
personality -
in all its
uniqueness, in
all its
original
primal power -
finds full and
free
creative
expression.
Thus, we find
that it is
precisely on
Sabbath that
man is
truly
creative,
precisely at
the moment of
rest from the
struggles of
survival.
With this
perspective,
we may
interpret the
prohibition
against labor
on Sabbath
as a
prohibition
against
personal
involvement in
the business
of
struggling for
survival.
Personal
involvement
includes
conscious
intentional
involvement
in the fray of
existence.
The Torah
prohibits the
"premeditated
task."
On the
contrary,
spiritual
creativity,
clean and free
of the
struggle
for
survival, is
the order of
the day.
It starts at
the inner self
and it
travels higher
and higher
until it
reaches the
summit of the
universe.
Compare
this with the
survival
mechanism.
It starts at
the inner
self but
it gets no
further than
the external
environment.
We see that
the Sabbath
involvement
expresses
"being," and
nothing
more.
There is no
mechanical
doing, one
does not
serve, nor bow
to the
dictates of
the external
environment.
In this way,
Sabbath
awakens
"I," who is
rooted in
God.
Sabbath
strengthens
"I,"
and focuses
it. The
personality
centers in
round its own
creative
and
qualitative
purpose.
Thus does
Sabbath
preserve a man
from his
tendency to
disintegrate
into
separate
elements, and
thus does
Sabbath
consolidate
the unique and
original
quality that
is his
"I."
Here we begin
to comprehend
the RambamÕs
amazing
prescription,
"the potion
for benefit
and
confidence:"
"...Take some
roots of
Sabbath, some
essence of
praise and
awareness,
and
some essence
of joy and
confidence.
Remove the
pits of
anguish
and
anxiety.
Take of the
flower of the
pomegranates
of knowledge
and
insight,
add roots of
patience and
acceptance,
grind
everything in
a mill of
self-effacement,
and cook
everything in
the pot of
humility.
Knead with
sweetened
words and
emulsify in a
solution of
grace and
lovingkindness.
Feed
to the sick
one, suffering
from despair
...the patient
will rest and
grow
calmer..."
(Sefer
Hanimtsa)
It would be
legitimate to
wonder what
Sabbath has to
do with the
repair
of
character.
What has
Sabbath to do
with avodas
hamidos,
the
work of
character
perfection and
attaining
inner
harmony?
Sabbath
is
classically
perceived as
the basic
principle
supporting the
man/God
relationship.
Yet here we
find the
RambamÕs
"prescription."
How is it that
this spiritual
giant assumes
that Sabbath
is fundamental
to
personal
balance, to
personal
growth, to
one's own
relationship
with
one's
self?
According to
our thesis,
however, this
perception is
self-evident
and
inevitable.
For it is
Sabbath that
endows a man
with his own
original
personality.
Sabbath
preserves and
protects him
from the
abuses
of the
physical
universe by
freeing him
from the
prison of
survival.
"A prisoner
cannot release
himself from
jail."[12]
Without
Sabbath, a Jew
is
imprisoned in
the cell
of survival;
his image
grows
gradually
blurred; he is
drained -
inexorably -
of
his quality
and of his
creative
vitality.
If the five
senses are
what dictate
your
perception of
reality, if
external
reality is all
that counts
for you, then
you are indeed
imprisoned in
a
cell of
your own
making; this
is the
inevitable
result.
A Jew needs to
grasp reality
at the
dimension of
height.
A Jew's
reality
is the world
of creativity;
only here can
he find free
expression for
the
originality
and uniqueness
that comprise
his individual
private
personality.
Sabbath
provides a Jew
with the
foundation and
with the
conditions
necessary
for
approaching
reality from
this
perspective.
Thus, Sabbath
sees
to it
that the
dimension of
height
occupies a
central
position in
the Jew's
worldview.
No observance
of any of the
mitsvos by
which man
relates to God
and by
which
man relates to
his fellow,
would be
possible in
any way, were
it not
for the
perspective
bestowed by
Sabbath.[13]
"The serpent
cannot
kill.
Only sin can
kill,"[14] Rabbi
Chanina Ben
Dosa
remarked
serenely,
having allowed
the serpent to
bite him in
order that
it
should
die.
Sabbath
assures a Jew
of liberation
from
dependency
upon the
laws of
material
nature.
Only Sabbath,
as the
foundation for
all the other
mitsvos, and
the
study of the
Torah as well,
are able to
grant this
privilege:
Only the
keepers of
Sabbath
can break out
of the prison
of the
survival
mechanism.
Only they
can beat
the
system.
Indeed, it is
possible for
them to leave
it behind
entirely.
Sabbath:
MORE
SELF-RENEWING
THAN REBIRTH
What does
Sabbath have
that other
mitsvos do
not?
Chazal, the
sages of the
Talmud, teach
us: There are
two mitsvos -
two
primal
elements -
that existed
before the
universe
itself: Torah[15] and
Sabbath.
"An
exquisite
thing have I
treasured away
in my treasure
house and
Sabbath
is its
name."[16]
Sabbath
preceded the
creation of
the universe:
The act of
creation
entailed the
separation of
object from
subject.
That is, a
separation
took
place between
Creator and
created.
All created
beings were
henceforth
subject to the
law of
separation,
the law of
object/subject
distinction,
and this
includes human
beings.
This law
cannot be
ignored.
To do so, is
to risk
disconnecting
from the
laws of
nature.
It is to risk
moving toward
disintegration
of
one's own
compounded
being.
For after all,
a human being
is the most
perfect
example of
integration in
the created
universe.
To preserve
this
integration,
one must
respect the
laws of
nature, and
the laws
that govern
the process of
disintegration.
These laws
derive from
the
principle of
separateness.
Separateness
derives from
the act of
creation
itself.
Sabbath, and
study of
Torah, are the
only
opportunities
that one has
to
return
to one's
'pre-creation'
roots of ideal
unity.
Ideal unity
may be defined
as unity that
is achieved
between
opposing
forces.
For opposition
is a central
motif
characterizing
the
created
universe.
First and
foremost on
the list of
opposing
forces is the
conflict
between
subject and
object.
The
ramifications
of this
conflict are
vast
in
scope.
They include
many other
dichotomous
relationships,
such as
permanence/change,
heaven/earth,
spirit/matter,
rational
intelligence/emotion,
sacred/secular,
thought/deed,
and
rest/movement.
Each of these
is a conflict
between two
separate
spheres.
To
ignore this
principle, to
ignore the
intrinsic
separateness
inherent in
the natural
world
is to try to
catch a
glimpse of
utopia, but it
is a
deceptive,
illusory
vision.
One can only
be hurt by
this futile
effort,
because
separateness
is a thorn
hopelessly
embedded in
one's flesh,
in the very
fact of
one's
physical
existence.
It must be
recognized.
Yet here comes
Sabbath...bringing
one back to
the very roots
of unity,
of wholeness
- to the ideal
conditions
that preceded
one's
creation, that
preceded
the
creation of
the universe
itself.
The Talmud
warns that
this is potent
stuff:
"A non-Jew who
has
kept Sabbath
incurs a death
penalty."
It is
hazardous,
cautions the
Talmud, to
attempt to
return to
one's own
original
primal
connection -
to one's
source in God
- by ways that
do
not pass
through the
created
universe and
through its
existing
frameworks.
On the
lower level,
this framework
refers to
natural laws,
to the
processes
and
conflicts
inherent in
nature.
On a higher
level, there
is the
framework
of Torah and
mitsvos.
A non-Jew -
because he
does not bear
the
yoke of
Torah and
mitsvos -
cannot attempt
to connect to
his source in
God by
way of Sabbath
alone.
To do so would
be to forfeit
his natural
existence.
"...Because
the souls of
the children
of Israel,
from beneath
the wings
of
the Shechina,
are from a
place of
unity; which
is not the
case with any
other
nation, rather
[they come]
from a place
of
separation.
But this
thing is
not
discernible
among Israel
except on the
day of
Sabbath, when
He - be
He
blessed -
sends an
abundance of
sanctity to
every person
of Israel,
each and
every one
according to
the root of
that soul as
it is to be
found
beneath the
wings of the
Shechina.
In this way we
find that a
man cleaves to
his
Possessor, for
He pours
spirit upon us
from the
height of the
wings of
His
Shechina,
unseparated
from His own
being, and
thus we are
found
attaching
ourselves to
Him, be He
blessed, and
separating
from
externality.
Therefore - in
that on the
day of Sabbath
we are being
united toward
the source
of our own
souls and
distancing
ourselves from
separation -
therefore
we have
been commanded
against
carrying, out
of the private
realm - this
is an
allusion
to the realm
to which we
are attached -
into the
public
realm.
This is an
allusion to
the world of
separateness
from whence
come the rest
of the
nations.
Also [we are
forbidden] to
carry in [from
one realm to
another
realm] for [in
so doing] one
has mixed
sacred into
secular, or
secular
into
sacred - it is
all one.
This is
comparable -
and we find
here
juxtaposition
- to all the
other labors
[that are
forbidden on
Sabbath];
because labor
is an
evocation of
the secular
world, because
it is to
that world
that labor
addresses
itself, and
the resting of
Sabbath is an
evocation
of the
supreme, great
and sacred
world.
Therefore, in
that the
supplementary
soul from the
supreme world
is found in
man [on
Sabbath], so
that if he
labors,
it is as if he
mixes the most
supreme
sanctity with
the secular,
and
the only
law for this
is death, for
he is cutting
down [the
seedlings] God
forbid..."
(Parshas
Pikudei)
Notice here
that Alshich
alludes to an
entirely
individualized
relationship:
On Sabbath God
is connecting
directly, and
attending
specifically,
to each single
individual Jew
who keeps
Sabbath.
Here is a
relationship
of renewal, of
a return to
one's own
source, to
the
original
element that
one once was,
before ever
descending
into this
world of
dividedness.
Hence the
capacity for
renewal - even
to the extent
of
re-creation -
of the
personality
through
observance of
Sabbath (and
through
study of
Torah, for the
Torah too
preceded the
created
universe).
Thus does
Sabbath make
the man,
protecting his
integrity from
entropy,
from
danger, from
rupture and
disintegration.
Sabbath
creates
reality
anew; a
tangible new
reality of
mitsva, a
reality whose
raison d'etre
is for
the sake
of the human
being.
This new
reality - the
world of
Sabbath - is
the world of yetsira.
Here a
human being
is an active
and powerful
partner,
creating anew
and being
created anew,
shedding the
secular skins
of a
divided
world.
From Sabbath,
you go forth
into the world
of the
secular.
You do
not
revert to the
days of the
week.
Rather you go
forth to greet
them, armed
with your new
approach.
You are
fragrant with
the scent of
the
Garden of
Eden.
Its scent
follows you
through the
week, from the
very first
day of
the new week,
until the eve
of the
following
Sabbath.
You can
look
forgivingly
upon the days
of the week,
you can smile
at the
conflict
and
contradiction
that plagued
you, back in
your earlier
period - prior
to
your Sabbath
renewal.
History can be
seductively
persuasive,
for after all,
the facts
speak
for
themselves.
Join one fact
to another and
you have
induction.
Yet,
philosophers
are becoming
aware of the
logical
problems
inherent in
inductive
conclusions:
History
records the
flow of events
along the
course of
time.
The
weakness
of such an
approach stems
from the fact
that flow, by
nature,
controls
the
objects that
are found in
its
state.
In the state
of flow, the
activity of an
object is
measured
rather than
its
substance.
Or to use our
terminology,
flow measures
"doing,"
and fails to
measure
"being."
Flow creates a
dynamic
system, a
container.
The container
is primary,
its content
only
secondary.
Results
are more
important than
substance,
than
principles,
than
values.
The
instrumental,
result-oriented
system devours
the human
affinity for
value.
Gone are human
sensitivities
and values; a
human being
possesses
value only
insofar as he
is an
instrument
effecting
events.
Flow
sets the
pace and the
causal
sequence of
events;
substance is
ignored.
How ideal it
would be if
one could
relate
simultaneously
to both flow
and
focus.
It is this
blend that
Sabbath
emphasizes.
On
Sabbath, flow
arrives home,
and drops
anchor.
The coast is
safe - quiet
and
transparent;
its clarity
penetrates
through all
layers of
time.
Flow and
focus merge
into one
entity:
"Being" merges
with
"doing", to
their mutual
benefit.
It is the
ideal
relationship.
It is the way
that quality
is meant to
relate to
quantity
-
and
intensive
study to
extensive
study, and the
private
realm to
the public
realm, and
intention to
deed.
For this
reason, the
halacha
specifically
focuses upon
these elements
-
upon
transferring
from the
private to the
public domain
and vice
versa, upon
intention and
upon
thought.
These are
determining
factors in the
prohibitions
of Sabbath.
Environmental
forces create
flow, as do
the laws of
gravity and
external
pressures.
Flow is not
born of inner
motivation.
It is born
of
servitude - it
is a condition
of belonging
to the
environment
without
the
complementary
condition of
freedom from
the
environment.
Flow is the
movement of an
object
unconnected
and
uncontrolled
by human
consciousness.
If a human
being were to
relate
exclusively to
the flow mode,
never
once
focusing upon
his own
existence, he
would
eventually be
swept away -
just
another object
flowing down
the stream;
ultimately he
would lose
contact with
his own
existence.
Focus is what
a human being
does in order
to express the
human ability
to
control
environmental
activity.
One who
imposes his
own creative
will
upon the
external
environment,
attains the
union - the
encounter -
between
subject and
object.
A human being
who is willing
to grant
qualitative
attention to
his
environment,
who is willing
to relate to
his own
specific
existential
conditions
through
full and
conscious
personal
intention,
will find it
transformed
under
his
hands.
He will find
that his
conditions
become richly
meaningful.
They
have been
turned into an
objective
container
richly filled
with
subjective
content.
Focus does
this.
Focus does not
halt flow in
order to
arrest
flow, but
rather in
order to
charge it with
meaning, to
transform it
into the
tool by
which the
human being,
the "crown of
creation,"
expresses
itself.
There are
those who
believe that
focus should
be used to
arrest flow
and to do
away with it
entirely.
Who needs the
external
environment,
they
say. All
one needs is
subjective
spiritual
experience.
This is an
error.
This approach
to existence
can drain the
natural life
force.
The physical
environment is
never
appreciated,
and never
allowed
to renew one's
sources of
physical
vitality.
To strip the
environment of
its natural
flow is to
render it an
empty
and
useless
vessel.
Flow without
focus is as
focus without
flow: A
world
without man,
or man without
a world - a
ship without a
captain or a
captain
without a ship
- equally
useless.
SLEDGEHAMMER
IMPACT
Chazal
compare resting on Sabbath to the blow
of the sledgehammer: The power of impact is created at the
moment the
hammer
comes to rest, at the moment immediately following its swift
descent.
Indeed,
it
is the imminent moment of
rest that loads the descent with such great power. It is
a
mystery, this
power. It is the secret of control, quite well known to
every
true master
of the martial arts.
The
master weighs action against rest -
movement against pause - attaining the flawless equilibrium of
poise
versus
counterpoise. The weapon that he wields is perfect
balance, and
it is
formidable.
"Remember
the
day of Sabbath"
includes the positive commandment to rest (...the
sledgehammer
comes to rest).
"Guard the day of Sabbath" refers to negative commandments, to
controlling the dynamics of activity (the sledgehammer in
descent).
The negative commandments are those
that prohibit labor on Sabbath. This prohibition of
labor deals
with and
encompasses the meanings, intentions, and thoughts that are
the
motivating
forces leading to labor.
These
elements - which address themselves to
the inner human process as it relates to the external act -
are
required, along
with the objective action, in order for labor to constitute a
prohibited
act.
We
might say that prohibiting labor for the
sake of Sabbath constitutes a merging of flow with focus - a
merging of
the
descent and the impact into one entity. For it is only
in their
merger
that they are effective. Laboring to attain material
means, when
this
labor is not directed toward a sublime goal, drains the human
being.
Conversely, sublime goals alone, which one never labors to
express by
material
means are devoid of substance.
The
commandment - "Remember the day of Sabbath
to sanctify it" - exalts the human creature. It raises
him from a
dimension of subjection and subservience to the dimension of
height. It
frees him, and it empowers him. It places him in
control: He
controls the
descent of the sledgehammer, as well as its impact. He
is to lead
reality
in the direction that he chooses, toward a destiny that he
determines.
The
types of labor that are prohibited on Sabbath
reflect this purpose. 'Selecting' is forbidden, and
'carrying'
from one
domain to another. Prohibiting these activities means
prohibiting
the
detachment of flow from focus.
Similarly
with
all Sabbath prohibitions:
The
prohibitions on Sabbath are designed to
keep the human being in control, to create a mutually
complementary
balance between
activity and rest, and to ascertain that human beings maintain
control
over
this balance.
Sabbath
keeps the six days of the week from
coming apart. These are two entirely separate modes of
existence
whose
characters are diametrically opposed to one another.
Sabbath
prevents a
permanent rift.
Sabbath
will not allow external reality to
flow uncontrolled, unmediated by human consciousness, nor will
it allow
the
inner human consciousness to follow its own subjective
imaginings,
unmediated
by tangible reality.
Sabbath
transfers the human experience of
existence from an outer mode to an inner mode, attaching it to
a
reality that
is essentially human - and that contains all three dimensions:
Inner,
outer,
and higher (values/ideals).
The
yearning to live "for the sake of
heaven" must pass through action performed "for the sake of
mitsva." Spiritual need must be expressed through
practical
activity.
PRESENCE
Out
of the merger of utilitarian goals with
spiritual goals grows a quintessentially human
experience. This
experience can only be described as the sensation of
presence.
The
sensation of presence requires that
experience be built of a three-dimensional reality. It
must
combine
subjective thought, conscious intent, and practical action:
Thought
is that which combines ideas,
values, and spirituality with emotion. Thought then
consolidates
these
elements within the inner spaces of "I."
Conscious
intent is that which
connects the qualities of thought with the tangible situation
that is
here and
now.
Practical
action is that which
ultimately transforms quality into tangible presence; this is
the union
between
man, Creator and universe.
In
the absence of this sense of presence, in
the absence of Sabbath, a human being is susceptible to
arrogance and
also to
despair:
"The
Torah has forbidden 'premeditated
labor.'" This is a signal to the arrogant, who believe
in their
own
power and in their own strong arm. They deny the Creator
of the
universe.
Therefore,
the
lesson of Sabbath befits the
six days of the week. For without Sabbath, God forbid,
one is cut
off -
search as one may - from any ultimate authority. One
sinks deeper
into
the swamp of existence - and there is no solid ground
there...and so
one loses
control over one's existence.
The
sensation is one of detachment.
Alienation and a dread of existence accompany the man who has
lost the
sense of
his own height. He is soon caught and pulled down.
He
becomes immersed in the mechanics of toil,
which bow to no human authority, which are the distorted
offspring of
external
reality, and which ultimately enslave the man, making of him a
puny
cog, devoid
of quality, devoid of any consciousness of his own value.
Once
he loses consciousness his own value, he
has become a blind and oblivious instrument. He becomes
a
mechanical
servant to a meaningless reality.
But
when there is presence, one's world
becomes powerfully significant, and one's self most powerful
of
all. The
sensation of presence is so powerful as to replace, and to
eliminate
the need
to pursue certainty. For after all, who pursues
certainty?
The
need for absolute certainty is born of
absolute despair. It is born of the desperate (but
artificial,
and
futile) effort to fill a vacuum created by existential
terror. A
perpetual dread of existence - that has no consistent focus -
is the
constant
companion of the pursuer of certainty. This existential
dread is
born of
a human being's enslavement to the machine-like mechanisms of
survival.
TRUTH
AND PRESENCE
"And so it is written: 'And on the seventh day He did
Sabbath and
He
did soul.' What does this mean, 'and He did soul?'
This
teaches
that the day of Sabbath upholds all the souls, for it says,
'and He did
soul.'"[17]
Ohr
HaChaim calls Sabbath "the thing that
upholds". He defines it as the foundation that gives
permanence
to
reality.[18]
From this
perspective, we may view Sabbath as a destination.
Our journey
toward
this destination begins with adventure, yet it is paved
with travail,
and with
the tribulation that all men must pass in their search
for truth.
But
what could be more precious, what could be worthier of
travail, than
truth?
Chazal,
the sages of the Talmud, deter
us. They point out that the search for truth is paved
with
difficulty. They remind us that when God wished to
create Man, He
advised
first with His heavenly court. Truth - who was a member
of the
court -
did not favor Man's creation. For Truth maintained that
man is
wholly
deceitful.[19]
The
Creator of the universe rejected Truth's
advice, for He willed to create man. Truth was cast down
to
earth,
instead, by the Creator, and compelled to join Man: "Truth
from earth
shall grow."
Perhaps
Truth
wished to avenge itself,
for it bit into Man - and this was well before the snake's
bite; for
the snake
cast its venom into the human race at a much later
point. Man
felt
Truth's bite, and was transformed.
From
that moment on, he could no longer live
without truth.
As
long as there is breath of life in man, he
feels that he must have truth. He longs for it, and he
must go in
search
of it, and he must inspect every consequence and every
achievement by
its
light.
Thus
is man's existence attached - riveted -
to the true, despite his being a great admirer of the
false. He
lives in
truth's shadow; truth is always spoiling his show and ruining
his
pretense. Truth cools man's heated and frenzied delight
in the
lie.
At
the early, primitive stage, man seeks
truth in objective reality, in the world of facts. He
must go and
invent
instruments, so that he can examine the truth. He does
not sense,
and he
still has not sensed, his increasing subservience to the
instruments
that he
himself creates. Thus is formed an instrumental reality,
persuasive by
virtue of its possession of the facts.
However,
it
tends to go the way of all
instruments: When a new and more sophisticated one appears,
you throw
the old
one out. You adopt the new instrument, for it will do
the work in
your
place, if not necessarily in your interests.
Eventually
you
lose control of the
system. You feel your contact with reality not as the
touch of
your hand
upon the cane, but as the touch of your cane upon the ground;
the point
of
encounter is between the cane and the ground.
The
fact that human perception of objective
reality grows thus distant and distorted may not be so
serious.
Consider
however, the grave consequences of attempting to investigate
one's own
subjective self, using the instruments that one has
created.
Imagine
believing that one can comprehend,
through instrumental techniques, one's own emotions, thoughts,
dreams
and
aspirations, in short, one's inner world, home of the infinite
and
measureless
quality of "I," originality's abode, and creativity's.
This
realm does not yield to research
instruments of any sort, for such instruments are designed for
a fixed
(limited) physical reality. Therefore, permanence
(limitedness)
characterizes them.
Even
physical sensation - that human
experience most closely related to the material world - has
been found
incompatible with - and inaccessible to - scientific research,
due to
science's
complete and utter dependency upon instrumental means.
Seen from
this
perspective, one is no longer perplexed by the total failure
of the
behavioral
"sciences."
This
primitive stage, the search for
"objective" truth within the external reality of objects, does
not
assuage man's distressing hunger, and yet one cannot do
without this
stage
because after all, truth without the weight of objectivity is
no truth.
Desperation
drove
Adam to eat from the Tree
of Knowledge. He was desperate, despite the fact that he
had been
endowed
with utter profundity of absolute knowledge of all the
mysteries of the
created
universe. He felt desperate, despite the fact that he
could "see
from one end of the universe to its other end." He felt
desperate,
despite the fact that he did not know the meaning of physical
boundaries, for
after all he had been created from the Absolute, so that the
limitations of
space and time did not exist for him. Furthermore he had
never
tasted of
death. Despite all this, still and all and nevertheless,
he
sensed that
the very fact of being a creation composed of dichotomy
disturbed his
tranquility.
The
mere fact of dichotomy threatened his
confidence. His Creator was constantly requiring him to
stand
guard, to
maintain a state of alert, a never-ending watch over the
dynamic that
He had
created, in the endless conflict between spirit and
matter.
Adam
must forever persevere in his untiring
efforts to maintain this sensitive balance - a balance not
attained
unless by
the constant standing of one's guard.
Despite
the
fact that Adam ruled over
spirit, which ruled absolutely over matter, in the period
before the
sin, still
he felt threatened. He sensed that he lacked full
control.
Adam
perceived
that the universe was
based exclusively on the rules of physical matter. Only
he, Man,
was out
of place in the created universe.
Chazal
convey his sense of frustration in
Adam's complaint to his Creator: "Everyone has a mate,
but I have
no
one."[20]
And Adam would not be
satisfied until God gave him Chava as his wife, as his
physically
present
partner.
So
man ruled matter, and he ruled Woman who
represented matter to him. She was better at it than he
- at
bonding with
matter and at bonding with him - at connecting to the
environment and
to the
other.
But
Man was still not satisfied with this
arrangement, for he controlled matter only indirectly, only
through an
intermediary (through the spirit, or through the woman).
Along
comes the snake with a seductive idea:
Why not have spiritual knowledge pass through the medium of
physical
matter -
that's that tree over there. Its fruit is very
interesting in
that it's
made up of a special kind of substance that is actually able
to
physically
contain spiritual knowledge.
It's
really so. If you only want it,
spirit can take on the look of tangibility; it can have the
feeling of
an
object. You'll be able to feel and touch truth just as
you now
can feel
and touch any object that possesses tangible substance.
Adam
did not perceive that this process would
be accompanied by a substantial reduction of truth's stature,
that
truth's
endless vistas would be forced to shrink in order to squeeze
into the
narrow
straits of finite, limited material reality, that truth would
be
lowered from
the realm of the absolute to the realm of the relative.
Rambam
explains this in Moreh Nevuchim.
Eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil degraded
truth, for
by this
action man lost the capacity to distinguish between true and
false -
these are
distinctions expressed in absolute terms. Now man would
tend to
distinguish between good and evil - a relative concept: What
seems good
to me
may seem evil to you...
Thus
did man renounce absolute truth for the
sake of a relative truth, for a truth that was not
whole. Thus
did eating
from the Tree of Knowledge give Adam a sense of
tangibility. Adam
thought
to adopt this tangibility instead of truth, for truth seemed
to him too
abstract and too spiritual to be the instrument enabling him
to do as
he
pleased.
But
Adam quickly discovered that the
distinctions between good and evil that had penetrated the
material
realm were
not adequate to the task of elucidating goals and ideals for
him. This
new,
materialized-but-shrunk form of truth could clarify only the
most basic
utilitarian considerations, those drawn from the realm of
survival-oriented
activity. The sublime needs, the realm of the spirit,
had been
left
outside of reality's sphere.
Adam
discovered to his disappointment that
eating from the Tree of Knowledge could not serve as a
substitute for
intelligence, for intellect, for the need for ideals and
spirituality,
for
fulfillment of the higher needs.
Yet,
not only the higher needs, for as it
turned out, even survival's needs were not an independent
entity.
It
seemed that even they could not thrive in man without spirit;
they were
nothing
but one component in an entire experience of existence that
encompassed
also
morality, conscience and spiritual experience. For "man
does not
live
by bread alone".
In
the absence of spirituality, man felt that
somehow something had cracked; a fissure had formed in his
experience
of
existence. There was now something new called the realm
of the
unknown. It would be a realm inaccessible by means of
tangible
reality.
When
spirituality is absent, one feels a
rift, a crack in one's very sense of being. One feels
that
unknown forces
loom just beyond the horizon, and that they are inaccessible
to the
material
and tangible evidence of one's senses.
One
must call the unknown by the name of
mysticism, as if it were a realm unto itself, governed by its
own
rules.
One must pretend that the right knowledge of the right rules
could
grant one
power and control over this infinite, inaccessible, and
terrifying
vista.
However,
common
sense does not permit a
rational man to cast his lot with such attitudes, nor with
their
so-called
rules and principles for operating in the dimension of the
unknown.
Fantasy, illusion, far-fetched sensory distortion - these are
the
legacy of
fools and of the weak-minded.
Any
intelligent person can see that so-called
control over the realm of the unknown is a hallucination, the
ultimate
childish
fantasy. It is an illusion. It refuses to
recognize
tangible
reality. Only by deluding oneself can one believe that
it is
possible to
circumvent, and even control, the limitations of time and
space.
So
the intelligent man must push aside his
longings for the absolute. He must relegate them to the
department of
myths and fairy tales.
This
realm has its own hierarchy of
experts. They, of course, see to their own
constituency.
They take
care to populate the unknown, filling it to suffocation with
phenomena
that
only they truly understand: Demons, ghosts, invisible men,
instantaneous transport,
levitation, and all the rest of futility, taken from their own
dreams,
from
their own detachment from reality.
Except
that something remains, to torment
even the modern man, who arrogantly presumes to use only his
rational
mind. Consider the mere fact that the human spirit
cannot let go
of its
relationship to mysticism.
Obviously,
there
is something to it, admits
the rationalist in his moment of frankness, or in his moment
of
weakness.
For example, when he finds himself in a stressful situation
over which
rational
means do not prevail.
It
would not do to make light of the power of
the unknown. Even they who hold tight to the struggle
for
survival as to
their only reality, have known the torment of the
unknown.
The
limitations of space and time which the
rationalist has adopted for himself cause him boredom at best
and
suffocation
at worst. The rationalist has willingly renounced the
right to
ride on
the wings of imagination. This accounts for your
rationalist's
conceptual
aridity and for his intellectual poverty, for he confines
himself
within the
four walls of materialistic realism.
His
reductive tendencies eventually relegate
his reality to the junk pile:
Time
and again, his reality threatens - it
does this quite regularly, on and off recurrently, during
different
periods of
human history - to turn him into an instrument. Once he
has
entered the
instrumental reality, man becomes a complex but rather limited
tool,
for which
one can always find a substitute. There is always
another tool
that will
do man's job better.
Yet,
this is exactly man's greatest
fear. Being turned into an instrument is unbearable to
him and
fills him
with unspeakable dread. So he runs back into the arms of
the
unknown, to
mysticism in its latest guise. One symptom is
escapism. He
flees
from painful reality in moments of distress. Another
symptom is
the
complete absence of any sense of inner vision.
In
desperation, man concludes that he can
believe only in himself. Soon he 'hears voices.'
He begins
to obey
his 'gut feelings.' He bows to powers that are the fruit
of his
own
imagination, and it is an imagination grown feverish with
existential
torment.
At
his latest stage, in his ultimate despair,
he finally denies the existence of any truth in any
form. This is
known
as: "Every man has his own truth."
This
last and final renunciation of truth
drives him straight into the arms of the absurd: Ice is hot,
evil is
good, the
victim is guilty, and the murderer deserves compassion.
Post-modernism
celebrates
its victory in the
kingdom of darkness: The existence of one absolute truth
becomes a
foreign
concept; no one has heard of it. The 'dimension of
height' is
absent; as
are ideals, and sublime goals.
This
latest state of affairs appears to
invite capricious behavior; one no longer requires actual
reasons for
specific
actions; an increasingly instrument-oriented attitude is
encouraged.
Ignorance dances on a fool's grave.
Yet
man is intransigent. Very soon he
has changed the rules of the game again. These new rules
- in the
period
of post-despair - are not even required to demonstrate any
connection
at all,
neither to one another, nor to existential reality, nor to any
body of
knowledge. One must merely surround oneself with
high-sounding
(if disconnected)
phrases, with metaphor, with rules of play and of ritual, and
with
other forms
of exhibitionism.
These
can be very impressive (for a very
brief moment). Upon this world of illusion and delusion
man
bestows the
status of art, for he has ceased to seek meaning in the values
within
art.
Thus
the golem of art is created. Not
only is it devoid of artistic content, it rapidly loses even
the barest
forms
of art. This is the extreme end of the human behavioral
spectrum,
set in
the context of the instrumental approach to existence.
At
the other extreme of the instrumental
approach to existence, we find an opposite, yet peculiarly
similar,
phenomenon:
This is the grim and inhuman fanaticism that is disguised as
religion.
It
is based upon the sort of ignorance that
justifies viciousness, and that supports only the barest and
flimsiest
forms of
morality - for the sake of appearance. It does not even
pretend
to be
humane; there is only ritual, devoid of spiritual or human
content. This
parody has supplanted the profound and powerful bond that is
meant to
link man
with his Creator.
The
illusion of a proliferation of many
truths creates pluralism of religions, and of
idolatries. They
are the
fruit of imagination fleeing truth.
The
clearest sign that it is the lie that
rules over these expressions of sickness, is their
characteristically
destructive pendulum motif: The adherent swings back and forth
between
self-loathing and self-delusion.
This
pattern constitutes a central axis
within all of the new (and some of the old) religions, whose
common
denominator
is restlessness, and short range of effect:
Masochism
and
self-torment cannot be born
past a certain point. After that point, a reverse
reaction sets
in.
One
imposes the guilt that one can no longer
bear - upon another human being. This is accompanied by
an
intense hatred
for one's fellow human being - a hatred that increases as
one's own
distress
increases. The rotten fruit of racism is one product of
this
process. Attributing evil intentions to one's victim is
another.
The
result is a unique phenomenon: Masochism
of a type that also erases all sensitivity to the needs of
other human
beings. One lives then a miserable existence
indeed.
Matters are
determined by every caprice of every passing moment, by an
absence of
justification for one's existence, by knowing no pleasure
other than
destruction, and by accelerating the vicious cycle of misery.
Bitten
by the truth on the one hand, and by
the snake on the other, man rushes back and forth between the
two. He has
turned the joyous human condition, rich in creative challenge,
into an
existential tragedy. He faces life helplessly; there is
no
delight to his
existence...
As
the inevitable next step arising out of
his distress, he becomes filled with hatred for the entire
universe,
and indeed
even for the Creator of the universe. From here, he
moves in the
inevitable direction of self-hatred...and then he starts all
over again
- a
vicious cycle - turning existential reality into apocalyptic
hell.
Such
is the eviction from the Garden of
Eden. It is a dead end, and a one way street.
There is no
way out
of the sense of detachment from one's own existential
needs. One
can
never escape the sense that one must settle for mere
mechanical
fulfillment of
needs: One must simply pretend to ignore the needs felt by the
human
spirit.
Of
course, one can always escape to the
unknown if things get too bad…One can always detach from
reality, and
deny the
value of human beings, and of reality, and even of life
itself…
We
have portrayed - A Soul in Flight from
Truth.
Along
comes the Torah, with a rather
surprising suggestion. See here, human being: Don't
bother with
pure and
absolute truth. For "not in heaven is it." Seek it
in its
new form. Don't you know? It has been cast down to
earth,
by the
Creator. It's not up there any more, in its high
and mighty
home in
the heavens. Why, it is within hand's reach.
"Not
in heaven is it that you would say,
'who can go up to heaven for us, and bring it to us, and tell
it to us
and we
shall do it. And not across the sea is it, that you
would say,
'who can
cross to the other side of the sea for us, and bring it to us,
and tell
it to
us and we shall do it. Rather the thing is very close to
you - in
your
own mouth and in your own heart to do it."[21]
Truth
has moved into the human
microcosm. Here is its new breeding ground - within man
himself.
Man determines where he will raise truth. "Truth from
earth shall
grow."[22]
Truth
first begins within
"I." "I" contains absolute truth, yet it is fitted to
every individual expression.
Any
original, qualitative, value-oriented
spark of an idea, as it is expressed by any particular human
being, any
action
initiated by "I" in order to enhance "I," (as opposed to
enhancing ego, which diminishes "I," both one's own "I" and
that of others) represents absolute truth. It is an
expression of
the 'godly
spark' within man.
Man
-
using "I" - attires
truth gloriously, in the garb of reality. He transforms
truth
into
tangible presence. "Truth from earth shall grow" grants
its own
value to physical reality and becomes transformed into living
and
breathing
presence.
Truth
clothed in tangibility is able to
fulfill every possible human need: The physical senses bask in
its
fragrance,
the rational mind steps in line with it, even imagination and
emotion
rejoice
in it, as bride and groom rejoice who have found one another
at
last. Joy
abounds. How is this?
Sabbath
AS PRESENCE
A
bride was affixed to the six days of the
week, one split second before they could commit suicide - out
of pure
sheer
despair, for they had lost the purpose of their existence.
Sabbath
tastes a bit like mohn.
(The
mohn
in the desert could
taste like anything you chose.) If you wish, the
taste of Sabbath
will
satisfy your physical hunger and sensual need. "Meat
and fish and
all delicacies."
If
you are concerned that physical sensation
will push spirituality aside - well, Sabbath offers the sacred
as
well.
It has the dimension of height; it has room for the Godly
imperative -
more
room than any of the other mitsvos, in fact. For after
all it is
an
expression in common with the Creator of the universe in all
His glory,
for
after all, He, too, participates in the keeping of Sabbath and
in the
making of Sabbath.
Yet
mainly, Sabbath expresses the human self.
There
are two faces to Sabbath: There is
"guard," and there is "remember." "Guard"
refers to the negative commandments, to the prohibition
against
labor.
This frees the house from excessive elements of 'doing' that
might
obscure the
world of 'being.'
"Remember"
refers
to the positive
commandments, to sanctifying Sabbath outwardly and
inwardly. It
refers to
cleanliness and purity of house and of body, to "honoring" by
thoroughly cleaning. It refers to the clean tablecloth
and the
fine bed
linens, to "honoring" the floor, to clothing oneself in fine
garments
that are especially for Sabbath. It refers to light and
joy of
candles
lit in honor of Sabbath.
"Remember"
includes
"oneg
Shabbos,"
"Sabbath pleasure." "Oneg
Shabbos" grants
legitimacy to - and indeed encourages - the physical
pleasures.
Most
of all, "remember" is
preoccupation with spirituality, with the sacred. It is
study of
Torah
and it is preoccupation with the many mitsvos of Sabbath that
pertain
to honor
and to sanctity.
Sabbath
sets aside a special place in her
sacred shrine for every individual. Sabbath tailors her
sacred
space to
every individual need; she bestows sanctity upon each one to
the extent
that he
can handle, in the amount that his soul can absorb.
Within
the protected space of Sabbath, anyone
may express his own soul's unique quality - his own
God-derived
creative powers
- as discussed above.
Sabbath
as
reciprocity:
Creator
and created establish their mutual
bond. The Holy One Himself, in all His glory, keeps
Sabbath. Sabbath
is His expression; it is expressive of the One who created the
universe:
"For six days God made the heavens and the earth and on the
seventh day
He
sabbathed and He souled."
On
Sabbath a Jew senses that he is a partner
on equal footing with the Creator of the universe; Sabbath is
his
ticket into
the sacred space, because Sabbath is the expression of his own
soul's
quality -
and God's throne is the quarry from which this quality is
mined.
In
truth, every act of mitsva raises a man,
to the dimension of height that shelters over every mitsva,
simply by
virtue of
its being the Lord's bidding. What is unique to Sabbath,
and to
the study
of Torah, is that even one's body, and one's practical
actions, and
one's
external reality become sanctified - with a sanctity so
sublime as to
penetrate, and to make sacred the inner qualitative space as
well as
the outer
tangible realm.
Therefore,
Sabbath
provides an experience of
truth that is tangible presence. Tangible experience is
liberated on
Sabbath
from the tension of survival; it is cleaned of the fear that
stems from
the
struggle for existence.
This
fear is capable of destroying even the
positive components of the existential struggle. Tension
is the
culprit
and anxiety over one's survival. It prevents the
individual from
developing a direct and natural bond with his environment or
even with
his own
self.
Let
it be clear that attempting to circumvent
the tensions of self-preservation only makes things
worse. It can
only
complicate one's experience of existence. Attempting to
avoid the
natural
tensions is as futile as attempting to escape heaven.
Such
escapism simply
intensifies the lust for sensation.
Or,
alternatively, such escapism can weaken
the lust for sensation to such an extent that one's simple
enthusiasm
for
living and one's natural sources of vital energy become
blocked.
So much
for trying to escape the natural experience.
Denying
idealistic or spiritual goals is
equally useless. The attempt to connect only with what
is
obvious,
natural, and animalistic does not work. It brings one to
self-loathing,
and it denies one's own qualitative self; this strangles
creative
expression.
The
presence of Sabbath resolves this
conflict. It transforms ideal into tangible fact.
What is
unique
about this tangible fact is that it does not stand in
opposition to any
ideal,
which is usually the way we are accustomed to perceiving
matters:
Reality
versus ideal, life as a condition of being split between
matter and
spirit.
Instead,
"He
who makes peace on
high" is the same One Who makes "peace upon us." Hence
"Shabbat Shalom:" This is the motto of Sabbath. For
Sabbath is
the presence that brings peace to a reality that is split in
half, that
is
steeped in conflict between opposing forces - between spirit
and
matter,
emotion and ration, action and rest.
The
peace that Sabbath brings is not the
peace of compromise but rather the peace of wholeness: Rest
endows
action with
integrity and quality. Ration endows emotion with
meaning,
quality, and
purpose. The legitimization of physical matter
transforms it into
a
vessel that bears blessings of the spirit. And most of
all,
Creator and
creature can come together, in one exquisite sheltering
union.
In
the tangible presence of truth that is
formed by Sabbath, heaven and earth are linked - just as they
are in
Yaakov's
ladder, for Yaakov is the man and the symbol of truth.
The
presence that is Sabbath cancels out the
human need to embrace illusion, to drift into fantasy, to
escape
reality,
etc. It renders superfluous all of these longings for
mystical
experience
that are born of despair, born of the unrequited yearning for
sanctity,
born of
the desperate longing to purify oneself of the filth of forced
confinement to
physical matter.
Can
matter and spirit come together in
union? It is an existential miracle, performed every
single week
- one
part to every seven of our existence. There is no
waiting for the
ultimate end of time. One miracle follows close upon
another -
every
week! Happiness is within reach. Fortunate is the
believer.
For
this good fortune is reserved for the
believer alone. It is for the keeper and sanctifier of
Sabbath. The
lost son returns home, by rising above time in order to dive
back into
it,
armed with new power.
What
is this new power? Perhaps we can
call it the power to grant time the tangible features of
space:
No
longer will he perceive time as a source
of anxiety (future time), and no longer will he perceive time
as the
guilt that
pursues him (past time).
Rather,
his time is a space, a presence; it
is a continuing present time, in which past and future are
joined. Past
and future join each other in the present moment, to receive
their due
repair,
which is within creative reach.
The
place that is called the present moment
has the power to repair the past and to plan the future.
It is a
presence
unto itself. It is easily attained; it awaits only "I,"
to step
in and take control.
SIN,
RETURN/REPENTANCE/REPAIR, AND SABBATH
Sabbath
as repair: What does Sabbath come to
repair? How does repair come about? What need is
there for
it? Chazal connect these elements in their classically
cryptic
fashion:
Adam
felt humiliated and disgraced by his
sin. Then Cain sinned. At this point, teshuva
- the
possibility of
return/repentance/repair - was revealed to Adam. Adam
rejoiced,
and
composed "Ode-Song to the Day of Sabbath."[23]
Here
we derive the classic connection between Sabbath and teshuva,
but
what does it mean? It appears to follow this
formula: Sin-teshuva-Sabbath.
Eating
from the Tree of Knowledge was the
source of sin. Repair was the discovery of the
possibility of teshuva,
through the
discovery of Sabbath as real presence, as a new reality that
man, by
his own
power, is able to create. Man is capable; he is the
only one who
can
create this new real presence. He has the power to
create "the
semblance of Olam Haba" - the presence that evokes
Paradise. Yes,
the lost son can indeed return to his lost Paradise.
The
Jewish Sabbath is reserved for the Jew
who keeps Sabbath. It is inaccessible and alien to the
outsider,
who does
not believe in the capacity of human beings, who does not
believe in
the human
power of repair, who does not believe in the Garden of Eden,
who
believes that
Paradise is lost, Apocalypse Now, etc.
You
could think that eating of the Tree of
Knowledge caused man to deteriorate. After all, in the
"before"
picture, a human being stood at the summit of the
universe. He
served as
its spiritual center, he ruled all of physical matter.
In the
"after" picture, he had fallen to the lowest depths.
Utterly
bewildered by his new limitations, he thrashed about in
frustration and
futility, treading the muddy waters of physical reality.
However,
as
with all heavenly punishment, its
purpose was not human suffering, but rather human education -
"sufferings
of love." Therefore, along with his descent to the plane
of
physical
matter and his expulsion from the Garden of Eden, man was
given the
equipment
necessary to transform physical matter into service of
God. He
would
become able to use the material world not only for his own
survival in
his own
struggle for existence (a struggle he had never known in the
Garden of
Eden)
but also as a tool of spiritual power.
It
is at this point that a new human ability
makes its appearance; it is the capacity for repair.
Repair
empowers man
with new abilities and new possibilities, with a qualitatively
new
power that
man in the Garden of Eden did not possess.
It
seems that Adam was willing to risk eating
from the Tree of Knowledge in order to acquire this new power.
ABILITY
TO CREATE
Thrown
out of the Garden of Eden, man
confronted a new reality that was utterly hostile to human
existence.
"Thorn and weed," beasts of prey, brute force ruled this new
world. The law of the jungle held unbridled sway.
How could
man be
expected to continue his role as the godly presence within the
physical
universe under such circumstances, without proper
conditions?
And
so
the Creator gave man "the
world of creativity." This meant the chance to create
his own
reality, with his own hands. He would create a home that
would
contain
quality, rather than merely affording shelter from the beasts
and the
elements.
"The
world
of creativity"
means that man takes the materials from the physical "world of
doing," and the ideas from the spiritual "world of
creation." He kneads them all together to form a
dough. Out
of
this dough, a delightful chala
for Sabbath emerges and rises forth.
The fragrance that wafts from it is reminiscent of the
Garden of Eden.
The
"world of creativity" is
tailored to fit the keeper of Sabbath. For he is the one
who is
deserving
of it. For he "has toiled on the eve of Sabbath" with
the
materials taken from "the world of doing." He has
endowed the
materials, on Sabbath, with meaningful content that he has
drawn down
from
"the world of creation."
Because
he has done all this, these materials
have been enabled to continue their existence, for another six
days,
until next Sabbath, as explained in Or HaChaim's enchanting
description.
This
repair, this truth that has grown out
and risen tangibly forth from the "world of creativity"
constitutes
the revolutionary discovery of Teshuva.
Teshuva
is
a force capable of overturning the
orders of the universe and the laws of nature.
Sabbath
contains the presence of this new
reality that has been formed by human hands. The human
keeper of
Sabbath
has created a reality of teshuva.
For when the subtle distinctions
between good and evil - as required of one who would
accomplish teshuva
- are exposed to the
precious light of Sabbath candles, one learns the real way
of sanctity,
and the
truest way of God's service. For it holds room
enough for both
good and
evil, so it appears on Sabbath:
The
physical is allowed to express
itself. Materialistic activity is permitted and
sanctified, and
the
existential human condition is turned into something
"reminiscent of
the
next world." Physical matter turns spirituality into
something
tangible, and there are no objections on either side.
"And
you shall love God your Lord with
all of your hearts." With your two hearts," Chazal
reveal to
us. "With your two urges." Yes, it is possible and
indeed
necessary for a human being to serve his Creator also with the
evil
urge.
It
is with wonder, and with awe at beholding
the sacred, that Adam discovers the reality of Sabbath.
"No
stupid
man can know it, no fool will ever understand this. For
the
wicked bloom
like grass, and the workers of evil all blossom."[24] Yet the success of the
wicked is only temporary,
"in order to ultimately destroy them forever." For
they live a
split life. It is ruptured by the conflict inherent
in
existence.
Whereas
"a tsadik
blooms like a date
palm, like a cedar in Lebanon he flourishes, they are
planted within
God's
house," within the reality of Sabbath's presence. For
the
presence
of Sabbath resolves conflict and brings peace to
adversaries.