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martes, 16 de julio de 2024

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

 

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

Shiur #41: Prayer (continued)

Discovering the Divine Presence within Oneself

 

 

A person’s ability to pray rests on the knowledge that a spark of the Divine Presence resides within every Jewish soul. Before praying, this spark must be revealed:

 

This is the entirety of our ability to pray to God – the fact that the blessed God is within us, at all times.

 

When a Jew is ready to pray he must first reveal the manifestation of the Divine Presence that descends upon us, in [its] exile, and is to be found within ourselves, but is covered with external trappings. One locates and reveals it through one’s prayer, as encapsulated in the words, “From the depths I call out to You, Lord…” … Through the Divinity that one reveals within himself [in this lower world], he prays to God, and then the prayer that he utters is – as Kedushat Levi writes[1] concerning the verse, “And He called: The Lord, the Lord…” (Shemot 34:6) – [as it were] like the blessed God calling to Himself…

 

Prayer is man’s perfection of himself, and through prayer he reveals the Divinity within himself, and it is with this Divinity that he prays…[2]

 

It is a central teaching of Chassidism that the Divine Presence is not transcendant but also immanent and part of the world, and as such is manifest also in the innermost essence of man.[3] In addition, the soul is part of God,[4] and as such it serves as the foundation for God’s presence within man. The first part of the necessary preparation for prayer is contemplation of one’s innermost essence and awareness of the Divine spark within him:

 

In truth, the essence of prayer is always only if God prays. As the gemara teaches, “How do we know that the Holy One, blessed be He, prays?”[5] In other words, in the prayer that a Jew utters, God is always also praying. For if this were not so, of what use would his prayer be, as the utterances of [mere] physical substance, in having any effect in the heavens and turning [Divine] anger to mercy? But the Divine spark that is within a person does not always engage in prayer. [It happens] only in someone who is closely bound up with his Divine essence, such that his body and soul are not two independently operating entities, like flatmates that share the same home but who are separate from and unrelated to one another; only when the body, too, yearns to be subservient to the soul, and the body is not moved by physical wants, but only by that which moves the soul. When this is the case, then when he is ready to pray, the Holy One, blessed be He, prays, as we have explained. “From the depths I call to You, O Lord…” – the words of the prayer are not my words; rather, they emerge from [the Divine spark that is in] my innermost depths.[6]

 

 This is a wondrous concept. It seems that a person simply needs to be awakened to and aware of the fact that Divinity speaks out from his midst; his “I” is, in fact, the Divine Presence that prays within him.[7] A similar idea is expressed by early Chassidic masters, such as R. Yissakhar Ber of Zlotshov:

 

“And Yehuda drew close to him and he said, ‘I pray you, my master…’”: This may be understood in terms of an interpretation of the words of the prayer on Shabbat, “There is none comparable to You and there is none but You” (ein arukh lekha ve-ein zulatekha). We find in the gemara, “A person prays only if he makes himself as naught” – i.e., that he thinks about the greatness of the Creator and His exaltedness, that there is no place that is devoid of Him, and all is Divinity, and that other than Him there is nothing. Any person who wishes to pray with this in mind and to first think about the greatness of the Creator finds that right from the start, as he starts to think about the greatness of the Creator, he is struck by tremendous awe, and he says to himself, “Who am I, miserable and despicable mortal that I am, a putrid drop, to pray before such a great, elevated and exalted King?” But afterwards, when he thinks further about the greatness of the Creator and understands that there is no place that is devoid of Him – and that even he himself is part of God’s Divinity – then he prays with great fervor, seeking to cleave to his [Divine] root, assuring himself, “I myself, too, am [part of] Divinity.” And this is the meaning of the words, “There is none comparable to You”: There is no-one that can be measured against Your greatness; all creatures are lowly in comparison and unworthy of offering You praise and exaltation. But afterwards he says, “There is none but You” – for there is no place that is devoid of Him, and he himself, too, is part of Divinity and worthy of cleaving to the blessed God. And this is the meaning of, “And Yehuda drew close to him” – at a time when a man of Yehuda [i.e., a Jew] approaches to pray before God, “and he said” – i.e., he thinks to himself. And he must consider the fact that “there is no place that is devoid of Him,” such that “bi adoni” [interpreted to mean “my Master is within me”) – i.e., within me, too, there is a part of Divinity. And then he is able to pray. Understand this.[8]

 

A sense of God’s presence within man and his aspiration to pray and to cleave to his supreme Source is something that the soul years for; it is a revelation of the Divine Presence in one’s midst. This awareness brings a person to a state of intense fervor.

 

Indeed, chassidic teachings offer various formulations of this sort of Divine service. One variation, which is oriented to individuals of superlative standing who achieve a very high level of self-nullification and thus become vessels for revelation of God’s word praying from within them, is offered by R. Uziel Meizlish. He describes the chassidic fraternity as a society of prophets over whom God’s spirit hovers and from whose throats the Divine Presence speaks:

 

We know concerning Moshe Rabbeinu that the Divine Presence would speak from his throat. And although no [prophet as great as] Moshe has arisen [since], there have been some people who merit this level of having His powerful Presence give praise from their throats. And this may be what Chazal mean when they say, “From where do we know that the Holy One, blessed be He, prays…” For this is called, “the high praises of God in their throat” (Tehillim 149:6). Meaning, that the exaltation of the Divine Presence is in their throats – that His powerful Presence speaks, as it were, from the throats of the righteous, and then “a double-edged (pifiyot – literally, ‘with two mouths’) sword in their hand.”… This is the meaning of, “My Lord, open my lips…” – for one who merits this level is a person who is but a channel into whom words pour from on High, and the person merely opens his mouth…

 

This is the meaning of the verse, “The Song of songs which is unto Shelomo.| It means that this song is holy of holies unto Shelomo – the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself. Meaning that His powerful Presence itself speaks and sings from the throat of the tzaddik. And in the same manner, he concludes, “Let Him kiss me…” – meaning that this is achieved through the Holy One, blessed be He, joining Himself to his mouth in this lower world, from His mouth in the upper world…[9]

 

In this description, a person is like a prophet, serving merely as a channel to carry God’s word. Here, God is in fact the subject Who is praying, rather than man. At the same time, it is clear that this level cannot be achieved by everyone. It is a special level reserved for tzaddikim who nullify themsleves before God.

 

We find a different situation in which a person is a partner in the Divine prayer described by R. Shelomo of Radomsk:

 

This is also the meaning of the gemara: “From where do we know that the Holy One, blessed be He, prays? As it is written, ‘And I shall cause them to rejoice in the House of My prayer.’ It does not say ‘their prayer,’ but rather ‘My prayer’” (Berakhot 7a), for this is also the measure of prayer that is desirable: [the question of] if the Holy One, blessed be He, is also praying, as it were. And this is why it says, “It does not say, The house of their prayer” – unless it is also “the House of My prayer,” as it is written, “The word of the Lord tested him (tzerafat-hu) (or ‘joined him’)” (Tehillim 105:19). Meaning that when his prayer joins with (tzeruf im) the word of the blessed God, his prayer is heard. And this is the meaning of the verses, “And Moshe cried out to the Lord, saying” (Shemot 8:8); “And I pleaded to the Lord at that time, saying” (Devarim 3:23) – in other words, the Holy One, blessed be He, said this, and then his prayer was accepted.[10]

 

In this situation, a person stands in prayer together with the Holy One, blessed be He; it is not a state of complete self-nullification as described by R. Uziel.

 

To which description, then, is R. Kalonymus referring? Does he have in mind a state of complete self-nullification before God, such that it is in fact God alone Who is praying, as described by R. Uziel, or does he refer to the sort of prayer described by R. Shlomo of Radomsk, in which man and God are “partners”? Although there are conceptual similarities with both teachings, I believe that R. Kalonymus presents a third model: not God alone praying from within the person, and not the person praying in partnership with God, but rather a person praying with God’s help: “With [the aid of] the Divinity that is revealed within him, he prays to God.”

 

Let us consider this option more closely.

 

What is the meaning of God being within a person? How do we feel this? How do we go about revealing the Divinity within us? R. Kalonymus explains that one of the manifestations of the Divinity within us is the attributes – which are in fact the sefirot – that are imbedded in us, such as love and fear.[11] However, in normal, day-to-day situations in which a person is occupied with his affairs, he is not aware of them, “and they are covered in the dust, and he treads upon them with trifling matters of no importance.”[12] Awareness of these attributes is awareness of the Divine Presence within us. When when a person is about to sin and he feels a twinge of fear and says, “I hope no-one can see me,” according to the Ba’al Shem Tov, this represents a manifestation of his Divine spark, for God condenses the fear of Him within a person to this low level, in order to save him from sinning. The same applies also to God’s mercy; an awakening of love for God represents an awakening of the Divine impression of loving-kindness within him.

 

Before praying, a person has to make the proper preparations in order to reveal the Divine attributes that are imbedded within him and with the help of which he prays. The rungs of the ladder are ordered as follows: The first step is to separate oneself from the world and its affairs, and by clearing the consciousness one allows the Divine forces to start to become manifest. We discussed this stage at length under the heading of “quieting extraneous thoughts.” The second stage entails arousing the forces of love and fear that are within him:

 

Prior to prayer, one must separate oneself from the world and concentrate on the fact that he is now drawing near to speak with God, as it were. And when he separates himself from the world and its bustling, then the garments with which the Divine spark is clothed [within him] – his abilities, his thoughts, his desires, and all his actions – disappear, and the Divinity that is within them is revealed to the extent that he is now separated from the world and his closeness to God.

 

And while he prays, he must subjugate all his strength so that the love and fear [of God] can be active, and operate even through his physical facilities, in the sense that “Anyone who answers Amen with all his strength…”[13]

 

R. Kalonymus also offers another piece of advice for helping a person to feel the Divine Presence within him. This Divinity is concealed by a person’s egocentrical needs: the need to make a living, the need for respect, and so on. Therefore, if one succeeds in halting the flow of such thoughts, he will discover within himself feelings of pure love and fear, whose source is in the world of atzilut. To this end, he needs to prepare himself through a period of waiting before prayer. In addition he should consider it his last day of living in the world.[14] This will serve to arouse within oneself pure love and fear, which are a manifestation of Divinity, and with these he prays:

 

The following is also advice for how to achieve an awakening and revelation of the spark of Divinity that is within him, without arousing his own selfish needs, and going beyond the practice of waiting for a certain time before praying. For in truth there exists within every Jew, in all his affairs, a spark of the Divine, but a person conceals it with his thoughts and desires and all his occupations, such that even holiness – and even a holy attribute such as fear, when it is revealed to him through his occupations – appears in the form of fear that no-one should see him. If the person would spend a period of time blocking all his thoughts and wants, this spark of Divinity would appear to him without any garments. But since a person chases after his thoughts about what he will do tomorrow, how he will make money, and how he will gain honor, therefore his thoughts flow without interruption. And this is what the mishna means when it says, “And repent a day before you die” – that a person should think that, heaven forfend, he has no tomorrow, and he has no reason to think about tomorrow, and he should not let it disturb his thinking. Then pure love and fear, emanating from his atzilut, will be revealed to him.[15]

 

The love and fear within a person are a manifestation of Divinity within him. In order for his prayer to rise up to the upper worlds, he must recognize these attributes and their Divine source. He makes use of them during prayer by arousing the love and fear within him. If he does this, then the force motivating his prayer is God, Who is revealed within him through His attributes, by means of which the person prays.

 

The following story that is told about the Ba’al Shem Tov highlights these attributes and their importance in having one’s prayer accepted in the upper worlds:

 

I heard that the holy Ba’al Shem Tov once came to the doorway of the Beit Midrash, and he stood and the doorway and did not wish to enter. They asked him why he did not wish to enter, and he answered that he could not, for [the place] was full of Torah and prayer. They continued to question him with great wonder, saying, “But surely if it is a holy place, which is full of Torah and prayer, then it is even more appropriate to enter it!” But then he opened their eyes to help them understand well what he meant: that is is not a virtue of a house of prayer that it be full of Torah and prayer, for this means that the Torah and prayer that those inside engaged in was not uttered with love and fear, and it did not rise up.[16] Everything remained below, and it was for this reason that the place was full of Torah and prayer, from wall to wall, and there was no room to enter. If they had studied and prayed there with proper concentration and with the proper love and fear, then all the teachings and all the prayers would have ascended on High, and nothing would remain below, and then this house of holiness would be empty and there would be plenty of room to enter.[17]

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] R. Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, Kedushat Levi, Parashat Ki Tisa.

[2] Derekh Ha-Melekh, 2-3.

[3] R. Nachman of Breslov writes: “For Israel are literally part of the supernal God; they are literally parts of the Divine Presence” (Likkutei Moharan [Jerusalem, 5753] Kama, siman 260.

[4]  For example, R. Chaim Vital writes: “Because man is created from both substance and form – i.e., psyche, spirit, and soul, which is part of God on High, as it is written, ‘And He breathed into his nostrils a living soul…’” (Sha’ar Ruach Ha-Kodesh im Perush Yosef Da’at, 9b).

[5]  Berakhot 7a: “R. Yochanan said in the name of R. Yossi: From where do we know that the Holy One, blessed be He, prays? It is written, ‘I shall bring them to My holy mountain and cause them to rejoice in the House of My prayer.’ The verse does not say ‘their prayer,’ but rather ‘My prayer’ – and hence we deduce that the Holy One, blessed be He, prays.”

[6]  Derekh Ha-Melekh,266: “‘Middaber’ – meaning that the words emerge on their own, as in, ‘And he heard the voice speaking (middaber) to him from above the covering that was upon the Ark of Testimony, from between the two keruvim’ (Bamidbar 7:89).”

[7] The following teaching is recorded in the name of the Ba’al Shem Tov:  “I heard from my teacher [the Ba’al Shem Tov] that the Divine Presence is called ‘prayer,’, as the verse states, ‘And I am prayer’” (Ba’al Shem Tov al Ha-Torah [Jerusalem, 5767], #126). R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk writes: “‘I’ is the Divine Presence, which is called ‘I’…” (No’am Elimelekh [Jerusalem, 5752], Parashat Vayeshev).

[8]  R. Yissakhar of Zlotshov, Mevasser Tzedek (Berdichev, 5577), VIII 2-3.

[9]  Tiferet Uziel (Williansburg, 5751), Shir Ha-Shirim. For more on the Divine word being revealed from within man as a sort of propecy, see R. Schatz, Ha-Chassidut Ke-Mistika (Jerusalem, 5748), 110-121.

[10]   R. Shelomo of Radomsk, Tiferet Shelomo al ha-Torah (Jerusalem, 5728), Parashat Vayera.

[11] It is well known that Chassidut emphasized that the sefirot are not only to be found in the world of atzilut, but are also manifest in man’s psychic and physical build. See M. Idel, Kabbalah: Hebetim Chadashim (Jerusalem-Tel Aviv, 5753), pp. 161-168.

[12]  Derekh Ha-Melekh, 1.

[13]  Ibid., 2.

[14] We have discussed a similar idea – imagining the day of one’s death –  but there the purpose was different; the technique was not meant to be used as preparation for prayer.

[15]  Derekh Ha-Melekh, 5.

[16]  Tikkunei Zohar (Jerusalem, 5746), Tikkun 10, 25b.

[17]  Ba'al Shem Tov al Ha-Torah, Parashat Va’etchanan, 55.

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

Shiur #42: Prayer (continued)

During Prayer

 

 

Praying with Fervor

 

Prayer should be characterized by fervor (hitpa’alut), like a person who has some precious object presented to him or who meets his beloved son who he has not seen for a long time, and his excitement is such that he could forget to eat and drink and sleep during that time, since the dearness of his son affects him so deeply that his entire being, his psyche, and his spirit are secondary to it; even hunger fades into insignificance beside it.[1]

 

In Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, R. Kalonymus uses term “hitlahavut” (passion) to indicate a state in which one forgets one’s body and its needs. Indeed, it seems that he uses the terms “hitpa’alut” and “hitlahavut” interchangeably, for in his attempt to distinguish between them he writes:

 

Young scholar – we can offer you a yardstick by which to know, when you feel fervor, whether it is mere emotional intensity or whether it may properly be called passion (hitlahavut).[2]

 

Thus, prayer requires emotional intensity, fervor, and passion. A person should savor the connection with God in prayer, which offers a taste of the Garden of Eden:

 

In a place of song of praise – there shall prayer be, for one cannot exist without the other. A Jew must feel the range of emotions and passions in his Torah and in his prayer, for any spiritual passion and pleasure that a Jew feels is like the sensation of pleasure of the Garden of Eden.[3]

 

We earlier discussed at length the idea of serving God with fervor and passion, the necessity of these attributes, and why true chassidic Divine service is impossible without them. Thus, we can understand the importance of these inner movements (fervor, emotion, and passion) in prayer. Admittedly, R. Kalonymus’s intention is to broaden these movements to encompass observance of the other commandments a well, so that they exert their effect throughout a person’s day, but it is clear that in the realm of prayer, at least, they are simply indispensible.[4]

 

The road to fervor in prayer starts with contemplating before Whom one stands and investing powerful thought in this meditation.[5] In his sermon for Parshat Noach in the year 5690 (1929), R. Kalonymus draws a distinction between a person who thinks of prayer as a means for satisfying his needs and one who treasures the opportunity to draw close to God:

 

For a Jew – even a simple individual – when he prays to God for his needs and engages in powerful thought about how he is currently standing before God, Who holds the life of all the worlds in His hands and Who possesses the power and sovereignty to send salvation for all of his physical and spiritual needs, and how his own vitality, and that of the members of his household and of all of Israel, and all their other needs, are dependent on this moment as he stands in prayer and supplication before God – then he pours out his soul before God, such that he is altogether taken up in his fervor, and all his powers are subjugated and nullified before God.

 

And all the more so in the case of a person who has the heart and mind capable of fervor even when he is not asking for his needs, but merely declaring, “Blessed are You, O Lord…,” and who thinks, “How close I am to God right now,” such that he truly talks to God in the second person – “You.” And he feels that he has broken his way through all the worlds, all the barriers and curtains separating him, to arrive directly before God, and he now stands before His majestic holiness and His awesome majesty, declaring, “You, O Lord, are blessed.” How passionate and full of fervor he is in view of this! All his physical aspects are overridden, and he is completely subservient to God, from the radiance of His holiness that rests upon him.[6]

 

The Maggid of Mezeritch is well-known for his teaching that a person should not pray for his own needs (“like a dog that barks” for its needs to be met),[7] but rather should pray for the rectification and restoration of the Divine Presence, which is a higher and more general need of all of Israel, and a tikkun of atzilut. In this teaching of R. Kalonymus, there is similarly a distinction between a “requesting” prayer, in which a person asks for what he wants and needs, and a prayer that does not “request,” but his perspective is different from that of the Maggid of Mezeritch. R. Kalonymus argues that one may arrive at a state of fervor even when asking for his own personal needs, which is quite legitimate. However, a person on a higher spiritual level is able to achieve fervor in his prayer even when he makes no physical or spiritual requests of God; the mere fact of standing before God arouses in him a powerful and meaningful sense of closeness to Him.[8]

 

Signs

 

R. Kalonymus offers the worshipper signs by means of which he can gauge whether he is indeed achieving passion and fervor in his prayer. The importance of these signs lies in the fact that a person can use them to measure his spiritual state, since spiritual service is like a ladder, and person who aspires to ascend this ladder should know where he stands.

 

It is possible to discern whether a person has reached the stage of “passion,” which is a higher level than emotional intensity (hitragshut). The sign of this transition is that one’s intensity is such that he can no longer maintain a state of cool detachment. This may be ascertained as follows:

 

Try to halt all movement. If you have indeed reached the level of hitlahavut, then your burning psyche will not allow you to rest; you will cry out, you will experience great longing, you will weep and you will rejoice… But if, when you desist from all movement, all is at rest, with no resistance and no emotion, just quiet and calm, and you would even be able to carry on a mundane conversation if you were not standing in prayer, this is a sign that your movements were forced and coerced, with no effect… for a young scholar chassid who prays with true emotion – when he suddenly halts, he should feel a pang in his heart caused by longing for God… no less than he longs for his parents or his children when he travels and is far removed from them.[9]

 

Another sign that R. Kalonymus proposes is the length of the prayer in which the worshipper manages to maintain his state of intensity. He argues that only servants of God who are on a high spiritual level are able to maintain their passion throughout the prayer service. It is not something that anyone can achieve, certainly not someone who is only starting out on the path of Divine service. Even if one is able to concentrate on the meaning of the words throughout the prayer, he will not be able to maintain the same level of passion throughout; he will only feel it in certain parts of the prayer. By the end,

 

If it seems to you that it was all uttered with [the same level of] passion, then you should know that you did not even achieve [real] emotional intensity; whereas if you experienced ups and downs, patches of light and patches of shadow, then it is possible that you did indeed achieve emotional intensity.[10]

 

A person may run into real difficulties if he uses these signs improperly. Instead of being immersed in prayer, he will be constantly examining and evaluating himself as he prays, and thus destroy any possibility of concentrating and truly cleaving to God. R. Kalonymus is aware of this danger, and while he regards these signs as important indicators, he explains the need to limit one’s use of them.

 

The most important principle is that one’s prayer must be “simple in its power and its intention”; passion will develop on its own. While engaged in prayer, a person should not be busy investigating and measuring the quality of his prayer, or whether or not he has achieved “passion” or “intensity”, for then he will end up losing out on meaningful prayer altogether.

 

The proper time for this evaluation and the use of these signs is not during prayer itself.[11] However, it is important that a person evaluate himself from time to time, for one tends to see only the good in oneself, and he may waste a good portion of his life laboring under the illusion that he is praying as he should, while if he would make use of the signs and learn how to direct and apply his emotions during prayer, he could achieve much more.[12]

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish

 



[1] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 6. This teaching was written around the time of Parshat Noach in the year 5690 (1929).

[2] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 13. For more on the distinction between these two concepts, see chapter 5 (shiur #22)).

[3]  Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 95.

[4]  See Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 2.

[5]  For more on powerful thought, see chapter 5 (shiur #25).

[6]  Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 7.

[7]  R. Dov Ber of Mezeritch, Maggid Devarav Le-Yaakov (Brooklyn, 5732), par. 12. 

[8]  Similarly, R. Kalonymus elsewhere draws a distinction between “prayer” (tefilla) and “requesting” (bakasha); the latter is an expression of an “extraneous desire,” while the former is service of the heart, emanating from the recesses of the heart (Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 295).

[9]  Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 57.

[10] Ibid., p. 58.

[11]  A difficulty arises here. On the one hand R. Kalonymus writes that a person should evaluate himself in this regard only after praying (Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 58), but on the other hand he proposes signs that can only really be applied when one is in the midst of prayer – for instance, ceasing all movement while praying and evaluating the effect of this on one’s emotional state (ibid., p. 57). This seeming paradox requires further inquiry.

[12]  Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 58.

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

Shiur #43: During Prayer (continued)

 

 

Focus (Kavana) in Prayer

 

During your prayer, stand in one place by the wall, or with your eyes closed, and pray aloud. Not mere shouting with no concentration [behind the words], but rather with focus and with the hope that by means of this [prayer] your soul will be awakened from its sleep and emerge from its hiding towards its King and Maker, before Whom it stands.[1]

 

Mental focus and concentration are the essence of prayer. Mere recital of the words and psalms in a mechanical manner, without the investment of one’s longing, desires, and love and fear of God, is like a body without a soul.

 

What should one concentrate on during prayer? Kavana (focus) might be understood as a type of interpretation. One can pray and focus on the plain meaning of the words – “Heal us,” “Hear our voice,” etc., but how is one to think literally of the words, “Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise Him on High”? We live on the earth; can we truly speak on behalf of the angels? The problem becomes even more complicated when we speak of kabbalistic kavanot. Consider, for example, the formula that R. Chaim Vital, disciple of the Ari, establishes in his Sha’ar ha-Kavvanot as the kavana for the Kaddish following “U-Va Le-Tzion”:

 

The third Kaddish, after the Amidah and prior to Ashrei Yoshvei Veitekha: The kavana is that first we raised up all the worlds so that all the worlds would be included in the world of Atzilut, so as to effect the supreme unification of Tiferet and Malkhut alone, while all the other worlds become like wings protecting and covering them, as per the secret of the “round goblet” (agan ha-sahar) mentioned in a teaching of the Zohar, in a manuscript entitled Sitrei Otiot shel Hashem Yitbarakh. Following that unification we have to once again raise up the worlds so that they may receive the abundance that is produced by that unification that was performed. It is for this reason that we now recite Kaddish, in order to once again include all of Creation in Atzilut, so as to receive the outpouring of that unification, and therefore the kavana for this Kaddish is through the Name of God in the form where each of the letters comprising the Name is in turned spelled out, with the variation that uses the letter yud […] and then all of Creation receives and additional measure of holiness, from the holiness of U-Va Le-Tzion.[2]

 

We shall not attempt to explain this kavana; our intention is merely to present something of its character and to show how obscure and inaccessible it is for those unfamiliar with kabbalistic concepts. One has to engage in extensive study of Lurianic kabbala before it can be applied, although it is a relatively “simple” kavana; the writings of the Ari contain concepts and kavanot that are far more complex. Chassidism, as we know, followed in the steps of Lurianic kabbala in many areas (for example, in the text [nusach] of the prayers), since this body of kabbala is held as second in importance only to the Sefer Ha-Zohar. At the same time, chassidic teachings reflect reservations with regard to the kavanot of prayers as taught by the Ari and his disciples. The main reason for this is that while knowledge of the esoteric secrets of kabbala and the combinations of letters in the world of Atzilut are unquestionably capable of impacing the upper worlds, it is difficult to achieve devekut (closeness to God) – which is a supremely important value in chassidism – through these channels. Praying with the kavanot of the Ari, with all the myriad details, requires a high level of concentration, while prayer with devekut requires a completely different inner movement: an outpouring of the soul, bodily movement, and powerful emotional investment.

 

A chassidic parable distinguishes between these two approaches to prayer by comparing them to the two possibilities for opening the lock on a safe: One possibility is to use its secret code; the other is to break the lock by force. Chassidut preferred devekut, which breaks down the barriers between man and God, over a focus on yichudim and kavanot, which are like secret codes. The parable might also be interpreted in a different way: The spiritual level of the generations is on a decline, and we can no longer know the proper kavanot as they were known to the Ari and his disciples. Therefore, what is left to us is prayer from the depths of the heart, which is capable of opening the gates of heaven.[3]

 

R. Kalonymus, who was well-versed in Kabbalah in general and Lurianic kabbalah in particular, also expressed his view with regard to the kavanot of the Ari. He agreed that someone who is capable of focusing on the kavanot as well as arousing his emotional energy should do both, but he recognized that this is not possible for everyone:

 

One who is unable to effect both – to focus on the kavanot and to arouse himself – should rather forgo the kavanot and not use them when he is at prayer.[4]

 

In this matter, he bases his approach on that of his predecessors, who argued that in our times, it is possible to achieve all the kavanot of the prayers by using all of one’s inner emotional and psychic forces while reciting the words of the prayer:

 

And in the holy book Maor Va-Shemesh, written by my saintly grandfather, in Parshat Ekev it is written explicitly that in our generations there is no need to focus on the kavanot of the Divine Names during prayer, because the essence of the kavana of the Names is based on the punctuation, cantillation marks, and the crowns on letters, and we know that the cantillation marks, punctuation, and crowns parallel the nefesh, ruach, and neshama. Therefore, when a person invests his nefesh, ruach and neshama in the letters and words of he prayer, he thereby effectively achieves the unification of the Divine Names, and this kavana transcends all the kavanot. For it is clear that our generations nowadays are different from previous generations in the matter of focusing on the kavanot, and also that a person’s nefesh, ruach, and neshama are [themselves] the essence of the kavana, not just that which is on high.[5]

 

Elsewhere, R. Kalonymus emphasizes the value of the letters and words of the prayer. Even the prayer of someone who is not familiar with the kavanot of the Ari can be effective. If one is aware of the value of the letters comprising the words of the prayer and of the supernal Divine light that is concealed in them, then when he prays he can think about what a great privilege it is to be able to use these letters and words. The passion and fervor arising from this meditation then elevate the spiritual light of the prayer “higher than the holy yichudim”:

 

This is the matter of the kavanot in prayer: Along with the basic focus on the meaning of the words, the letters themselves also have meaning, as we know from the holy Zohar and from the Ari z”l, [teaching] how the shape of each letter, its punctuation, its gematria, and the combinations of letters, all have meaning. And even someone who is unable to think about the kavanot of the Ari z”l and to effect yichudim must also know that the [effect of his prayer] is not limited to the meaning of the words, and he fulfills his obligation not merely by concentrating on the meaning of the words, but also the letters have inherent holiness of their own.

 

And as the great Maggid, of blessed memory, taught concerning the verse, “You shall make a window for the ark (teiva),”[6] with regard to the word (teiva) that you utter in prayer, too, you should make a “window” – i.e., light. The words and the letters have their own inherent holiness, and when one prays out loud, with kavana that every letter and ever word is a piece of the upper world and a component of the [Divine] Chariot, then he will be passionate in his utterance of every letter and every word, filled with joy and amazement at the parts of the Chariot that are emerging from his own mouth.[7]

 

One of the features that makes R. Kalonymus’s approach to kavanot so special is his emphasis on the need for a person to create his own unique kavanot in accordance with his own needs and wants. He attributes this idea to his grandfather, the “Seraph of Mogielnica”:

 

In his book Avodat Yissakhar, the holy R. Berish of Wolbórz… writes: Our sainted rabbi and teacher, the Rebbe of Mogielnica, taught concerning the matter of kavanot that whatever kavanot a Jew chooses for himself – they are all accepted from him in Heaven.[8]

 

The creation of a personal kavana is in fact the interpretation of a verse in light of the circumstances and state of mind of the worshipper. R. Kalonymus writes:

 

When one prays, he can define the kavanot of the words of the prayer in accordance with his own bodily and spiritual needs, and in accordance with his level of spiritual arousal. In the Torah, although every verse has a plain and simple meaning, the Sages nevertheless illuminate individual words, and even individual letters, with their own meaning. Likewise in prayer – although the entire prayer is a single entity on the plain level, a person can nevertheless imbue every word with special meaning, in accordance with his spiritual state. There is a tradition recorded in the name of my father and teacher, who had a special focus in the Nishmat prayer on the section starting with the words, “Who awakens the slumbering”: He said that his kavana was that God should awaken the soul of the Jewish People, which was imprisoned in an endless slumber, oblivious of their holiness. And when one says, for example, “Who straightens the bowed over,” a person might ask of the Master of the universe, “I am bowed over – both with regard to my body and with regard to spirituality. Please ease the yoke of physical and spiritual challenges, and help me to stand upright” – etc.[9]

 

Following in the footsteps of his forebears, R. Kalonymus opens the door for every individual to find himself within the prayer service. The prayer formula is fixed, but one’s interpretation and experience of it – the content of his kavana – is in accordance with his own world and experience. Just as there are “seventy facets to the Torah,” so there are endless ways of interpreting and understanding prayer. Every individual may and should find the way to apply the content of the prayer to himself and his own experience.

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1]  Bnei Machshava Tova, p. 49.

[2] R. Chaim Vital, Sha’ar Ha-Kavvanot (Jerusalem, 5738), Derushei Ha-Kaddish, derush 1: Kavanat Ha-Kaddish Ha-Shelishi. Sha’ar Ha-Kavvanot is the fundamental work used by the kabbalists and their students who follow the path of the Ari.

[3]  For more on this see R. Schatz, Ha-Chassidut Ke-Mystika (Jerusalem, 5748), chapter 10; M. Idel, Ha-Chassidut Bein Ekstaza Le-Magia (Jerusalem-Tel Aviv, 5761), chapter 4.

[4]  Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 227.

[5]  Ibid. p. 227.

[6]  This verse, recorded in the Torah as God’s instrution to Noach while he was building the ark (teiva), is given a different interpretation in chassidut, with the word teiva understood in its other meaning – “word.” There are many teachings in this regard that are recorded in the name of the Ba’al Shem Tov, their essence being that one must discover the Divine light and the worlds of meaning concealed in the words of the prayer, since the tzohar (window) represents an opening through which one is able to ascend to the upper worlds. The following tradition is recorded in the name of the school of the Maggid of Mezeritch:

“You shall make a window for the ark, and you shall finish it to a handbreadth from the top” – The Ba’al Shem Tov, of blessed memory, said: “You shall make a window for the ark” – the teiva (in this context, word) should illuminate (matzhir, from the same root as tzohar, window). For every letter contains entire worlds and souls and Divinity, and these ascend and combine and achieve union with one another, [and] with Divinity, and then the letters connect and unite to form words, and then they form real unificiations with Divinity. And a person must include his own spiritual essence in each and every part of this, and then all the worlds unite as one, and they ascend, and a great, immeasurable joy and pleasure are created […] After the word leaves his mouth he does not see how it ascends on High, just as one is unable to look at the sun, and this is the meaning of the phrase, “you shall finish it from the top” [or, in this context, “it is lost to you as it disappears on High”]. What you are able to do, however, is, “Enter the ark [word] – you and all your household” – meaning, invest all your body and strength into the word. (Ba’al Shem Tov al Ha-Torah [Jerusalem, 5767], Parshat Noach, 15).

[7]  Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 9.

[8] Mevo She’arim, p. 227.

[9]  Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 101.

 

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

Shiur #44: During Prayer (continued)

 

 

Visualizing During Prayer

 

As discussed previously, identification with and personal investment in prayer is of critical importance. If there is no emotional arousal, then prayer is essentially sterile. Hence, while an understanding of the meaning of the words is important, it is not sufficient:

 

Make a conscious effort to intend the meaning of the words. There are several ways to do this. It is possible to simply translate in your mind as you read, so we would say, “Hallelu” (give praise); “et Hashem” (to the Holy One); “min ha-shamayim” (from the Heavens); and so on. This mode of “intending the prayers” does not awaken the spirit.[1]

 

Such prayer is deficient because it takes place on the level of mind:

 

He is looking at mere words, and he understands their meaning, the literal denotation… In other words, his prayer and his Divine service remain in the realm of knowledge and comprehension, above him, for he dwells [below] in this physical, material world, while his prayer exists in the world of intellect and understanding.[2]

 

This is not to say that intellect and comprehension are in any way negative. On the contrary, they originate from a high place – too high, in fact, and thus disconnected from the worshipper’s earthly, material world, where comprehension and intellectual grasp will not suffice. One has to invest additional inner forces. Prayer is “service of the heart,”[3] not “service of the mind.” Hence, a person must be fully invested in the content of his prayer:

 

Rather, the essence of “intending your prayers” means that when you say, “Praise God from the Heavens,” and so on, you are addressing all of creation and commanding it to praise God. You, who are formed of matter yourself, you are endowed with a soul, and so you have the authority to command. It is your power and your duty to remind every level of creation – angels, microbes, grass in the field – “Praise Him from the Heavens, Praise Him… stars… [and] light…” This is what it means to pray with intention. This is rousing to the spirit.[4]

 

The worshipper is transformed from a reader of texts into a participant in a drama, and this transformation can in turn revolutionize his relationship with and attitude towards the content of his prayer. He is no longer a neutral onlooker; now he is actively involved. He initiates, he remembers, he cries out, he beseeches, praises, and commands; he identifies with the prayer. The longing, the liturgical praise, and the prayer are the soundtrack of his own life.

 

Elsewhere R. Kalonymus expands on this idea, demanding that the worshipper engage all of his inner capacities in prayer, including his imagination. We have discussed previously the importance of the imagination; here we find it pressed into service in prayer, along with the faculty of contemplation:

 

It is different when you apply your thought, your imagination, and your emotions… Then your Divine service is internalized and becomes tangible for you. When you say, “For every knee will bow to You,” even if you feel only the slightest feeling as you utter the words, you will perceive that you – and the whole world with you – are bowed before God and completely nullified before Him. Likewise, when you say, “Praise God from the Heavens…” with intensity, then you are standing and commanding the entire universe – the upper and lower worlds, which are right in front of you – “Stand and give praise; sing with us to God!”[5]

 

Here R. Kalonymus explains how one makes use of his imagination:

 

It is not a matter of visualizing the sun and moon, which perhaps are not actually visible right now. Rather, your speech, thoughts, and emotions flow and develop into a texture that you can almost physically see. “For every knee shall bow to You” – how pleasant is this statement! You and all of the universe, in the heavens and in the earth below, are now bowing together to God.[6]

 

Here R. Kalonymus raises a familiar problem: Is it only in my imagination that all of Creation joins with me in bowing before God? He offers a most interesting answer, proposing that all spiritual awakening in Divine service that emerges from a place of truth expresses a situation that is real. Thus, if a person feels that all of Creation is joining with him in a song of praise to God, then that is in fact real and true:

 

Do not say, “If it feels this way, it is nothing more than a product of my imagination. I alone am imagining that we – the upper and lower worlds – are all united in bowing and prostrating ourselves, singing and giving praise together before God… It is not merely a product of your imagination. Since this is what you perceive in your fervor and through your imagination that has been sanctified and strengthened, so it really is. The angels of heaven – all beloved, all flawless, all holy; the ofanim and the holy chayot, with great noise; the sun and the moon; the earth and all its fullness, and you in the midst of it all – give voice in unity and harmony to songs of praise to God.[7]

 

Solitary Meditation

 

If someone is still unmoved, uninspired, and unexcited by prayer that does not concern his own personal needs, R. Kalonymus suggests heading out of the synagogue to the forest, where one can commune with nature and awaken his spirit:

 

Have you ever experienced the bliss of prayer that is devoid of ulterior motives or personal interests? Have you ever cried before God as you uttered His praises or been greatly aroused when speaking to Him? Did you feel then His Presence pressing through the limits of your heart and mind, and you yourself could not grasp or understand it? Any tears you will shed during your prayers are like those of a child crying for a toy or a sweet as long as these experiences are beyond you.

 

This, then, is the way to reach them if you want to: Let go of this world for an hour or two – its hustle and bustle, its cunning deceptions, and all your earthly aspirations. Seclude yourself in privacy – go out into a forest if possible. Let yourself become a simple creature in God’s world. With the sun, the moon, the birds, and the trees, sing songs of praise to Him. Reveal the greatness of God to the world, and fill it with a sense of that greatness.

 

In this state of mind, begin by reciting, “Adon Olam – Master of the universe…,” “Yedid Nefesh – Beloved Companion of my being…” See how your soul then rushes out to greet the approach of its Maker. God has come, so to speak, to hear your sweet song, and a holy passion engulfs you. Only the gushing of your warm tears will be able to calm your passion.

 

Then you will know why Moshe prayed to become a bird of the sky after his passing (Bereishit Rabba 11:9);[8] he yearned to sing praise to God as a simple creature before Him.[9]

 

Meditation is not a chassidic invention; it is a tradition going back to the time of our earliest forefathers. R. Avraham ben ha-Rambam writes in his Ha-Maspik Le-Ovdei Hashem that the reason why the forefathers chose to be shepherds was because of their desire to commune with God and to distance themselves from human company, which disturbs one’s inner peace.[10] R. Nachman of Breslov includes a recommendation to meditate in many of his teachings, but he is not the only Chassidic master who endorses this practice. R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk, for example, writes:

 

Before praying, one must meditate, as our Sages taught: “The early pious ones would pause for a while before prayer, and for a while after prayer…” And this is called, “the outskirts of the wilderness” – the “wilderness” is meditation.[11]

 

The meditation described here is a quieting of the mind. To prepare one’s consciousness and clear it of all disturbances prior to prayer, one need not necessarily go out to a field or a forest; the same process can happen in the synagogue.

 

But the meditation described by R. Kalonymus has a different purpose. As noted, he proposes it for someone who finds himself incapable of fervor and passion in prayer that is not related to his personal needs – from which we deduce that when this person has a personal problem (his health, his livelihood, his family, etc.), he has no problem focusing on what he is saying. The problem arises only when the prayer is unrelated to himself – e.g., prayers of praise and thanksgiving. This meditation, undertaken in the forest, seeks to locate the individual within the backdrop described in the prayer. R. Kalonymus proposes that a person become a “simple creature in God’s world.” Here the individual is not looking in from the outside, but rather comes to feel that he is a partner and comrade of all creatures that exist in nature; he is part of them and one of them, along with the sun and the moon, the birds, and the trees of the forest, all of which join in song to God. He sings in the choir that is comprised of all of Creation. This is altogether different from the situation of someone who observes the picture from the side. No matter how beautiful the picture may look to him, he will always be outside of it.

 

The experience is conveyed eloquently in such prayers as Barkhi Nafshi, which is recited as part of the morning prayer on Rosh Chodesh:

 

Bless God, O my soul. Hashem, my God, You are exceedingly great; You are garbed in majesty and splendor. You are cloaked in light like a garment, stretching out the heavens like a curtain. He who covers over His upper chambers with water; He Who makes clouds His chariot; He Who walks on wings of wind; He makes the wind His messengers, the flaming fire His attendants. He established the earth upon its foundations, so it would not falter, forever and ever. The watery deep – You covered it as with a garment; upon the mountains water would stand… He sends the springs into the streams; they flow between the mountains. They water every beast of the field, they quench the wild creatures’ thirst. Near them dwell the birds of the heavens; from among the branches they voice their song… There where the birds nest, the stork with its home among cypresses; high mountains for the wild goats… He made the moon for festivals the sun knows its destination. You make darkness and it is night, when every forest animal stirs… (Tehillim 104:1-20)

 

Could anyone imagine a more appropriate setting for this prayer than out in nature, as R. Kalonymus proposes, where man has a sense of belonging to his natural surroundings?

 

R. Nachman offers a similar suggestion and illuminates the advantage of this setting from a different angle:

 

Know that when a person prays in the field, all the vegetation enters into the prayer, helping him and strengthening him in his prayer. It is for this reason that prayer is called “sicha” (conversation), alluding to “the shrub (siach) of the field” (Bereishit 2:5), since all the shrubs of the field empower and assist his prayer. This is also the meaning of, “And Yitzchak went out to commune (la-suach) in the field” (ibid. 24:63), for his prayer was with the help and the power of the field. All the shrubs of the field aided and strengthened his prayer, as explained above. And it is for this reason that prayer is called “sicha,” as noted.[12]

 

In the teachings of R. Nachman, solitary meditation occupies a central place in Divine service, not only for the purposes of prayer, as for R. Kalonymus, but rather as a separate form of Divine service, with its own defined time and place and characterized by daily soul-searching and dialogue with God. For R. Kalonymus, in contrast, meditation is yet another technique for arousing fervor in one’s Divine service in general, and in prayer in particular.

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] Bnei Machshava Tova, p. 49 (Conscious Community, p. 82).

[2] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 70.

[3] “What kind of service is performed by the heart? This refers to prayer.” (Ta’anit 2a)

[4] Bnei Machshava Tova, p. 49 (Conscious Community, p. 82)

[5] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 70.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid. p. 71.

[8] See Avot De-Rabbi Natan, addition 2 to version A, ch. 4; Otzar Midrashim (Eisenstein) (New York, 5688), p. 366.

[9] Tzav Ve-Ziruz, p. 336 (To Heal the Soul, pp. 43-44).

[10] R. Avraham ben Ha-Rambam, Ha-Maspik Le-Ovdei Hashem (Jerusalem, 5733), pp. 177-186.

[11] R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk, No’am Elimelekh (Jerusalem, 5752), Parashat Beshalach.

[12] R. Nachman of Breslov, Likkutei Moharan Batra, 11.

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

Shiur #45: During Prayer (continued)

 

 

The Great Miracle

 

We can grasp something of the intensity of the inner work that is required of a person at prayer from the following excerpt, which R. Kalonymus cites in the name of the Ba’al Shem Tov:

 

It is a great kindness on the part of the blessed God that a person remains alive after praying, for in the natural course of events he should die, having no life-force left, after spending it all on prayer in the intensity of his kavana.[1]

 

A different version of this teaching reads:

 

In the name of the Ba’al Shem Tov, of blessed memory, who said that it is a great miracle when a person remains alive after prayer, that his soul did not leave him with the intensity of his cleaving.[2]

 

One way of explaining the danger involved is that the soul might disengage from the body as a result of the intensity of longing for unification with God, and that God in His mercy grants a person vitality that keeps him alive.[3] Another explanation focuses on the sorrow of completing one’s prayer: “When he remembers that following prayer, he returns to this world, it is truly a miracle that his soul remains within him…”[4] The unbearable pain of “parting from God” with the conclusion of the prayer is a threat to a person’s continued existence.

 

R. Kalonymus teaches that this state is not reserved for people of the stature of the Ba’al Shem Tov, but rather belongs to everyone. In other words, every person should experience such utter closeness to God when he prays that he feels and appreciates the Divine kindness of being kept alive afterwards.[5]

 

This great longing in prayer is expressed in other ways, too. A person’s main encounter with God takes place during prayer. One should therefore wait with anticipation for the time for prayer, when he can pour out his heart and tell God everything that is happening in his life, like a child who waits to tell his father what he is experiencing and to request his help where necessary.[6] The climax of this sense of closeness comes at the end of the prayer:

 

Therefore the crux of the yichud (unification)[7] is at the end of the prayer, in other words, in the Shemonah Esrei, which comes after the Pesukei De-Zimra (psalms of praise) and recitation of the Shema, because the Jewish soul bursts forth there with all its strength with love and awe, wanting and longing.[8]

 

The “unification” is an expression of the longing of the soul to cleave to and become one with God. The entire course of the prayer leads up to this climax, and after such intense spiritual activity it is clear why it is only through Divine mercy that the worshipper is still alive and able to go on.

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] R. Dov Ber of Mezeritch, Likutim Yekarim (Jerusalem, 5741), ot 2, 31; Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 108.

[2] Ba’al Shem Tov al ha-Torah (Jerusalem, 5767), Introduction, ot 43.

[3] Concerning mesirut nefesh (self-sacrifice) in prayer and how a person is spared this death, see the fascinating teaching by R. Tzadok Ha-Kohen of Lublin, Dover Tzedek (Bnei Brak, 5733), Acharei Mot, ot 4.

[4] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 109.

[5] Ibid. p. 108.

[6] Ibid.

[7] The term is meant here in the sense of “devekut” – closeness. For more on this yichud, see R. Waks, Be-Sod Ha-Yichud: Ha-Yichudim Be-Haguto Ha-Kabbalit-Chassidit shel R. Chaim ben Shelomo Tyrer Mi-Czernowitz” (Los Angeles, 2006), pp. 155-160.

[8] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 109.

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

Shiur #46: During Prayer (continued)

 

 

“Running and Returning” in Prayer

 

The intense climax of prayer is inevitably followed by a withdrawal and descent. It is a well-known Chassidic principle that life follows a pattern of “running and returning” – ascents and descents. It is impossible to remain stagnant, nor can one sustain a perpetual ascent. Human existence, in both the physical and the spiritual realm, is characterized by movement, fluctuation, ebb and flow. It is specifically because of the tremendous uplifting that one experiences in prayer that he is in danger of a great fall. The greater the ascent, the harder the fall. A teaching of the Ba’al Shem Tov establishes the following rule:

 

It is an important principle that a person cannot maintain the same [spiritual] level, for vitality [or “living beings;” see Yechezkel 1:14) runs and returns. If one is unable to ascend higher, then he will necessarily fall, even from his [lofty] level, for it is impossible to remain static. One is either ascending higher or falling from the level that one had achieved.[1]

 

In a teaching about the alternating “running and returning” in prayer, R. Nachman states that without the movement of “return,” the worshipper would be in danger of being completely consumed and nullified by his intense cleaving:

 

When we see sometimes how a person grows passionate in his prayer and utters a few words with great fervor, that is evidence of God’s great compassion towards him, for He exposes him to the light of Ein Sof and grants him illumination… And when he nullifies himself in relation to the Ein Sof, he is in a state as described by the verse, “And no man knew…” (Devarim 34:6) [concerning the place of Moshe’s grave]. For even he himself is unaware of himself. But this state must be [subject to] “running and returning” in order that he may continue to exist.[2]

 

In R. Kalonymus’s teachings, we do not find the movement of “running and returning” treated in this way. Instead, he emphasizes a different message – that a person should not fall into despair or decline following his prayer, although there is a need to step back and rest. R. Kalonymus asserts that the Maggid of Mezeritch managed to maintain his state of spiritual intensity even after he concluded his prayer, and as a result was able to ascend higher and higher. His friend, in contrast, would revert after concluding his prayer to his original state, and thus had to repeat his ascent from the start each time anew:

 

The Maggid went from strength to strength. The reason for this was that he exerted himself, even after his prayer, to remain in the same spiritual state that he had been in during prayer, and thus the next time he prayed he was able to ascend even further… His friend, after praying, would revert to the same state that he had been in before praying, and thus every day he faced the challenge of uplifting the first prayer in the chain… Every person needs to rest, just as someone who is climbing a very tall tree needs to rest along the way. But then he must stay strong and make the effort to grasp and hold onto the tree so that he will not fall off, but rather remain where he is…[3]

 

R. Kalonymus follows in the path of the Maggid, asserting that a person is able to grow closer to God by means of prayer and then, after praying, to rest while maintaining the closeness that he has achieved, so as to continue his progress.

 

The Impact of Prayer

 

Prayer has the power to make a difference, and its impact is measured on different levels. Sometimes the effect is felt during the prayer itself; sometimes the results become manifest only afterwards. R. Kalonymus cites a teaching of the Maggid of Mezeritch concerning a person’s state in the wake of prayer:

 

It is taught in the name of the Rebbe, R. Dov [Ber of Mezeritch], of blessed memory, who brought in the name of the Ari that after prayer that is favored, there remains a certain reshimu (impression) of the mochin (consciousness), and that is the submission that remains within the person. In other words, even though a person cannot constantly be in a state of mastery of the mind and the heart, as when he is at prayer, nevertheless the consciousness – the submission – remains with him.[4]

 

This teaching seems to be taken from Yosher Divrei Emet by R. Meshulem Feibush of Zbarazh, who was a disciple of the Maggid of Mezeritch and the Maggid of Zlotchov:

 

Indeed, in a later work by R. Dov Ber, of blessed memory, which I have in my possession, it is written that the sign of a prayer that is favored by God to any degree is [the worshipper’s] submission – in other words, whether, after the prayer, he retains submission in his heart. This is called the reshimu [impression] of the prayer, as mentioned in the teachings of the Ari z”l, that after the prayer there remains a impression of that consciousness. In other words, even though after one’s prayer is over there can no longer be the same mastery of the mind of the heart, as during prayer (as achieved by every individual according to his level), nevertheless there remains the reshimu [impression], in the form of submission and humility. And if this is not so, then certainly [the prayer] was not favored at all. One might perhaps merit this sometime.[5]

 

R. Meshulam, who elaborates at greater length on the concept originally articulated by the Maggid of Mezeritch, teaches us that the sign of whether one’s prayer was favored by God is whether the person attained “submission.”[6] Submission is a parallel expression of a state of lowliness.[7] Commenting on the verse describing King Menashe, “And when he was in distress, he besought the Lord his God, and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers” (Divrei Ha-Yamim II 33:12), R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk taught: “A person who wishes to acquire sanctity and the service of God needs total submission, as per the Tannaitic teaching, ‘Be exceedingly humble.’”[8] In other words, a person can achieve a state of expanded consciousness and an elevated spiritual state while at prayer, but may then find that when his prayer is over he returns to the same state he was in before he began praying. The Ari z”l and the Chassidic masters teach that if his prayer was worthy, it has a lasting impact on him; it makes an impression in the form of the submission that remains.[9]

 

Nevertheless, this state of “submission” still requires clarification. R. Kalonymus states that “true submission in a person comes from the illumination that rests upon him. If this is not [the source], then it is not [true] submission.”[10] This is because a sense of lowliness can be a manifestation of spiritual emptiness and debilitation, which can hardly be called “submission.” Rather, submission is when a person is enriched by Torah and filled with strength and positive energy. It is specifically in that situation that he must examine himself to see whether he is in a state of submission:

 

The way of Torah, is to be “brazen as a leopard…” (Avot 5:20) – a strong person of strong mind and will to perform Divine service, but nevertheless submissive – not because he is empty, but rather because of the inner light that dwells within him, such that he nullifies himself and submits to it… For the light within him nullifies itself and submits to holiness, and even after his prayer, an impression is left behind and he remains submissive.[11]

 

Let us take a closer look at the matter of this light. During prayer, the worshipper is illuminated by a heavenly light, as we learn from a teaching of the Ari z”l:

 

One must not offer a prayer in sadness, for if he does so, his soul cannot receive the Supreme Light that extends to him during prayer.[12]

 

This light is not an image or metaphor: “Prayer is illumination and an imbuing of light…”[13] It is a real light that can change a person’s state.[14] If he is worthy,

 

The light surrounds his entire body and penetrates all of his inner essence, and the Supreme Light is impressed upon his whole body and all its functions and powers. Then one is also submissive in prayer, and even after prayer, some impression of that remains within him.[15] This is not the case where sanctity did not surround his entire body and did not permeate his entire inner being, inside and out. Even though his thought might have been directed towards his prayer, his body was not aroused to fervor, and the Supreme impression of white fire was not inscribed in his body, such that his body would be submissive and recognizable as such. Therefore, the whole subject of kavvana is treated in the gemara in terms of “kavvana of the heart” – whether he directed his heart – even though kavvana is mainly through one’s thought, which involves the mind. But kavvana of the mind is not sufficient; it all depends on their also being kavvana of the heart, which includes the entire body.[16]

 

In order for a person to merit that his prayer has an effect on him and leaves a real impression, it is not enough that he concentrates his thought on what he is saying. He needs to direct and focus his heart, with fervor and passion, to the point where his entire body offers prayer. Attention should be paid to the fact that the light that extends to a person at prayer affects not only the psyche or soul, as mentioned by the Ari z”l, but also his body. This fits well with R. Kalonymus’s teaching that the main innovation and message of chassidut as taught by the Ba’al Shem Tov concerns revelation of the light within the vessels and within the body.

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] Ba’al Shem Tov al ha-Torah (Jerusalem, 5767), Parashat Ki Tavo 9.

[2] Likutei Moharan (Jerusalem, 5753), siman 4.

[3] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 110.

[4] Ibid., p. 6.

[5] R. Meshulam Feibush of Zbarazh, Yosher Divrei Emet (Avraham Yitzchak Kahn edition, Jerusalem, 5734), p. 41.

[6] Here the tzaddik is talking about a sign that allows us to gauge whether our prayer was acceptable and favored by God. The mishna offers a description of R. Chanina ben Dosa: “It was said of R. Chanina ben Dosa that he would pray for those who were ill, and he would say, ‘So-and-so will live, so-and-so will die.’ They said to him, ‘How do you know this?’ He answered, ‘If my prayer emerges smoothly, then I know that it is accepted; if not, I know that it is obstructed” (Berakhot 5:5). This level of knowing directly whether one’s prayer is accepted is uncommon and limited to singular individuals; this is not what our sources are talking about.

[7] The Ba’al Shem Tov taught that every time one speaks words of Torah or prayer, there should be a process of “submission, separation, and sweetening” (see Ba’al Shem Tov al ha-Torah, Bereishit 121), but I find no echo of this teaching in the works of R. Kalonymus, and so I shall not elaborate here.

[8] R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk, No’am Elimelekh (Jerusalem, 5752), Parshat Ki Tisa.

[9] The concept of leaving an impression is reflected in the story of Yaakov, who leaves Beer Sheva and heads to Charan (Bereishit 28:10). Rashi asks, “[Seemingly,] all the verse needed to say was that he went to Charan. Why does the verse also mention that he left [Beer Sheva]? To tell us that a tzaddik’s departure from a place leaves an impression. So long as a tzaddik dwells in a place, he is its majesty, he is its glory, he its splendor. If he leaves, the place loses its majesty, it loses its glory, it loses its splendor…”

[10] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 6.

[11] Ibid.

[12] R. Chaim Vital, Sha’ar Ha-Kavvanot (Jerusalem, 5738), Derushei Birkat Ha-Shachar.

[13] Derekh Ha-Melekh, pp. 94-96.

[14] Another example that illustrates the impact of this light on a person and the sense of its presence is to be found in R. Kalonymus’s guidance in Chovat Ha-Talmidim. Here he explains to the young student that if he sanctifies himself with Torah study, he will be able to sense the light “that extends from above your head to your very toes.” If one does not feel this after every study session, then the feeling with surely come with time, after he has worked on it. See Chovat Ha-Talmidim, pp. 177-178.

[15] The process of the formation of this impression that is made by the departure of the Supreme Light is described by R. Chaim Vital as part of the process of the creation of the worlds that preceded our present reality )R. Chaim Vital, Etz Chaim [Jerusalem, 5670], sha’ar 7, chapter 1). The Maggid of Mezeritch and R. Kalonymus borrowed the terminology of these and other sources. According to their approach, the laws of the worlds of Atzilut apply also to the world of Asiya and also to man in our material world.

[16] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 6.

 

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

Shiur #47: Prayer in the Ghetto

 

 

Prayer That Makes God a Presence

 

Thus far, we have focused on R. Kalonymus’s teachings about prayer in a normal context. We will now address some of his teachings in Esh Kodesh, which was written during the Holocaust, in the Warsaw Ghetto. We will try to understand how the unfolding reality influenced prayer and its place and role in the lives of the Rebbe and his chassidim. The teachings included in Esh Kodesh are dated from Rosh Hashana 5700 (September 1939) to Av 5702 (August 1942).[1]

 

On Yom Kippur 5701 (October 12, 1940), during the Ne’ila prayer, a radio announcement in German ordered all Jews in Warsaw to move into the ghetto. On November 16, the ghetto was closed, the property of thousands of Jews remaining outside its boundaries. The Jews, who comprised 30% of the city’s population, were now crammed into 2.4% of its area.

 

The Warsaw Ghetto was the largest of the ghettos created during WWII, at one point holding some 450,000 Jews. Living conditions were hellish: The lack of basic sanitation bred sickness and disease; the lack of any employment possibilities other than the German slave-labor enterprises, as well as the difficulty in procuring basic foodstuffs, led swiftly to widespread and acute starvation. Entire Jewish families languished along the sidewalks, bloated with hunger. At curfew time, when the streets were quiet, the cries of young children could be heard begging for bread. The best that their parents or compassionate neighbors could offer were crumbs. In the morning, the sidewalks at the ghetto gates were piled with bodies – mostly of children – covered with paper; during the night, their clothing had been taken. In addition to all of this, the terror sowed by the Nazis and their periodic forced roundups for transport to the death camps made it all the worse.

 

In R. Kalonymus’s sermons from this period, we hear an echo of the terrible decrees, the death and the mourning that occupied such a central place in ghetto life. Even during these dark times, R. Kalonymus continued to encourage his chassidim and maintained his faith in the power of prayer to achieve closeness to God.

 

The utter incomprehensibility of a horrific reality can bring a person to turn away from God, whether out of a sense of abandonment by God or out of a religious belief in the inscrutability of the Divine decree, such that God is perceived as infinitely distant and unreachable. R. Kalonymus emphasizes that even in the harshest reality, God is close by, anguished along with Am Yisrael and weeping with them:

 

This is the difference: The weeping and pain that a person experiences by himself, alone, may have the effect of breaking him, to the point that he is incapable of doing anything. But when one weeps together with God, that strengthens him. He weeps – and he is strengthened; he is broken – but nevertheless exerts himself to study and to serve Him. It is difficult to raise oneself up, time and again, from the tribulations, but when one really tries, stretching his mind to connect to the Torah and Divine service, he enters the Inner Chambers,[2] where the Blessed Holy One is to be found; he weeps and wails together with Him, as it were, and even finds the strength to study Torah and serve Him.[3]

 

R. Kalonymus teaches his chassidim that the only consolation for their suffering is the knowledge that God has not forsaken them and they are not suffering alone; He is with them in their pain:

 

What encouragement can one give oneself… at a time of such dismal disintegration? First of all, through prayer and the conviction that it is impossible that God, the merciful Father, would cast away His children from before Him to such a degree…

 

But how shall we console ourselves over the martyrs who have already been killed?... And how shall we uplift ourselves even slightly in the face of the terrifying rumors, both old and new, that tear us apart and crush our hearts? Through the knowledge that we are not alone in our suffering; rather, God suffers along with us, as it were – “I am with them in trouble” (Tehillim 91:15).

 

R. Kalonymus seeks God’s closeness for himself and for his chassidim. He seeks the intimacy and comfort of joint weeping, of mutual empathy and consolation, and asserts that prayer is an effective way to achieve this closeness.

 

In his sermon for Parashat Ki Tetzei 5700 (1939), he chooses to talk about the intimacy that a person is able to achieve in prayer. He cites a teaching of the Maggid of Mezeritch, that the fact that man is granted the possibility of being able to say, “Blessed are You” is itself a Divine mercy. R. Kalonymus elaborates and explains that the very fact that the Men of the Great Assembly enacted that our prayer is recited partly in the second person unquestionably affects

 

the manifestation of Divinity, to the point that God is a tangible presence for us, and we are truly able to say “You,” and it is not a blessing uttered in vain, heaven forfend.[4]

 

Let us dwell for a moment on this assertion: When a person says “You” in relation to God, this in itself helps him to effect a revelation of Divinity. Moreover, if it were not possible to attain the presence of God through prayer, the Men of the Great Assembly, with their prophetic inspiration, would not have formulated the blessings in this way, for we would be reciting blessings in vain!

 

Further on in this teaching, R. Kalonymus explains that while the Torah belongs to the entire Jewish nation and God “teaches Torah to His people, Israel,” there is also an aspect of God teaching every individual and speaking to each and every one. In order to achieve the level of personal tutoring with God, as it were, one has to make God present in one’s life, and this is made possible only through prayer:

 

How does one achieve this? Through prayer; by saying “You,” and thereby effecting a Divine revelation for himself. At that moment, God speaks to him and teaches him Torah individually; He addresses him similarly in the second person…

 

In order for our words of direct address to effect a presence, the individual who is praying must first reveal his own self in the words of his prayer. In other words, his own essence must be present in the words. Then, “as in water, face answers to face” (Mishlei 27:19), so a reciprocal mirroring of God’s presence is effected…[5]

 

A person has to yearn for God’s closeness in order to receive Torah from Him. This want leads him to reveal himself, his essence, before God, in prayer. Then, and only then, will God reveal Himself to the individual.

 

R. Kalonymus adds a comment that reflects the tribulations of the times:

 

Even if a person’s heartfelt prayer is prompted by catastrophe, heaven forfend, nevertheless since he pours out his heart in words of prayer, it has the effect of eliciting a direct personal revelation to him.[6]

 

Why does R. Kalonymus add this “even”? Because a prayer that emerges from distress – even such terrible suffering as in the Holocaust – would seem to be of a lower level than prayer that flows purely and wholly from a desire to achieve closeness to God and to learn Torah from Him. Nevertheless, R. Kalonymus insists, even such a prayer can have the effect of making God present so that one can learn Torah from Him.

 

When One Cannot Cry Out Loud

 

From one Shabbat to the next, from one festival to the next, the situation deteriorates, and this is reflected in R. Kalonymus’s derashot. He delivered his sermon for Parashat Nitzavim in the year 5700 in hiding with his disciples, and he spoke of the “inner cry.” From the content of the sermon, we understand that prayer with a minyan was forbidden, and so groups of Jews gathered to pray in secret. Obviously, they had to pray quietly, and no part of the service could be recited aloud. This need to pray silently was oppressive and difficult, since – as R. Kalonymus himself had written in his Haksharat Ha-Avrekhim prior to the war – praying aloud is important for achieving fervor and passion. Testimonies of students who studied at his yeshiva also indicate that R. Kalonymus encouraged praying aloud;[7] he would also sing and thereby inspire the congregation:

 

One who prays out loud, powerfully… grows passionate in his prayer, and as we find in the holy books: the voice elicits kavana[8]

 

And when one prays out loud, and with kavana, such that every letter and every word is a fragment of the upper world and a piece of the Supernal Chariot, then he is filled with fervor as he utters every letter and every word, and he rejoices and is awed at the pieces of the Supernal Chariot that emerge from his own mouth.[9]

 

We can well understand the difficulty and pain experienced by the chassidim who were forced to change their style of prayer from passionate, vociferous expression to silent supplication that was entirely inward-directed. The lack of any possibility of giving voice to the cry of pain, bewilderment, fear and helplessness that cause one to turn to God only made it harder. R. Kalonymus offers the following advice for coping with this difficulty:

 

A Jew prays to God and cries out to Him, blessed be He, regarding any calamity that befalls him. And when the trouble is even greater, heaven forfend, he cries out even more, as it is written (Esther 4:1), “And Mordechai cried a great and bitter cry.” Even when there is no impending calamity, we pray to God because prayer itself is closeness to God. When we pray, we pray with a full voice, as it is written in the holy books, “The voice awakens kavana; kavana awakens the voice.” But what shall we do now that we are not permitted to cry out, nor even to congregate for prayer, and we are forced to pray in secret, and every Jewish heart must lament this alone? At least in the depths of his heart, every Jew must shout out to God over this.[10]

 

The transition from an outward cry to an inward one, in the wake of the Nazi decrees, demands that R. Kalonymus and his chassidim change not only a habit but also a whole way of thinking, since they are accustomed to fervent prayer that is recited aloud. R. Kalonymus offers an insight into this situation which demands that one pray “from the depths of his heart.” He focuses on the verse, “From the depths I call out to You, O Lord; Lord; hear my voice; let Your ears be attentive to the sound of my supplications” (Tehillim 130:1-2) and notes the seemingly redundant repetition of “Lord” and of what follows: Once we have asked “hear my voice,” does God really need our request that He be “attentive to the sound of my supplication”? He answers:

 

For this we pray, “From the depths I call to You, O Lord” – [I call] only from the depths of my heart, not aloud. “Lord, hear my voice; let Your ears be attentive…” please make Your ears attentive, as it were, so You will still hear me. Take note that they do not allow me to pray, I can only do so in secret, so I must pray in a whisper. And for the anguish that this alone causes me, “Save me.”[11]

 

The prohibition on praying aloud leads a person to prayer that is more profound, from his very depths. He beseeches God to hear him even though he can no longer give voice to his prayer.

 

The verse “From the depths I call to You, O Lord” assumed additional significance on Shabbat Shuva of the year 5700 (1939), in between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. The fervent hope on the part of the Rebbe and his chassidim that their prayers would help to nullify the Nazi decrees were dashed, and R. Kalonymus addresses the value of these prayers and the reasons why “we are not answered… and our troubles are only increasing.”[12]

 

On this Shabbat, the Rebbe acknowledged to this chassidim that he had thought that since their troubles were growing, their prayer would be more intense “and hearts would be poured out like a stream of water.” It turned out, however, that as time passed, people had less and less strength left to pray, and the passion that had characterized their prayers in previous years during the Yamim Noraim was gone. R. Kalonymus notes that he is not alone in sensing this change; other chassidim had noted it, too. Aside from the physical weakness, he attributes this phenomenon to the fact that the worshippers do not feel that their prayer is having any effect: on the contrary, “our troubles are only increasing,” and hence “a person’s heart falls and is not aroused in his prayers.” Another explanation that he offers is that the Jews in the ghetto are exhausted and weakened not only physically, but also spiritually; their faith and their joy are ebbing away. Nevertheless, R. Kalonymus does not lose faith in the power of prayer. He finds meaning in the words of King David that speak to their situation:

 

The same applies to spiritual arousal in prayer. A Jew may fall; he may be crushed, such that there is no-one left to be aroused in prayer. But King David says, “From the depths I call to You, O Lord” – not from one “depth,” but from “depths,” in the plural. This indicates that after I fell to the first depth and called to You, not only was I not answered and not saved, but I fell even further, to a depth within a depth. Nevertheless, I am gathering my strength and once again calling to You.[13]

 

The word “depths” assumes additional significance here, over and above what it meant in the sermon discussed above. Here the “depths” express the fathomless troubles; the compounded suffering and anguish. Nevertheless, even within these depths R. Kalonymus finds the strength to call to God, thereby teaching his chassidim to do the same.

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] R. Kalonymus Hy”d was killed on 4 Cheshvan, 5743 (November 2, 1943).

[2] Chazal teach that there is a place where God weeps and suffers anguish over the pain of Am Yisrael: “The verse states: ‘But if you will not hear it, my soul shall weep in secret [be-mistarim] over your pride’ (Yirmiyahu 13:17). R. Shmuel bar Inya said in the name of Rav: The Holy One, blessed be He, has a place where He weeps, and its name is Mistarim. What is the meaning of ‘over your pride’? R. Shmuel bar Yitzchak said: God weeps due to the pride of the Jewish People, which was taken from them and given to the gentile nations. R. Shmuel bar Nachmani said: He weeps due to the pride of the kingdom of Heaven, which was removed from the world. But how can we speak of weeping with regard to the Holy One, blessed be He? Did R. Pappa not say: There is no sadness before the Holy One, Blessed be He, as it is stated, ‘Honor and majesty are before Him; strength and gladness are in His place’ (I Divrei Ha-Yamim 16:27)? There is no contradiction here. The former statement [that God weeps] is referring to the innermost chambers, where He can weep in secret, whereas the latter statement [that He does not weep] is referring to the outer chambers” (Chagiga 5b).

[3] Esh Kodesh, Parashat Ha-Chodesh, 5702, p. 179.

[4] Ibid. Parashat Ki Tetzei, p. 59.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Esh Kodesh, p. 60.

[7] Note should also be made of the influence of Karlin Chassidism on the teachings of R. Kalonymus, and to this day Karliner chassidim are known for their loud prayer. At the same time, chassidut also offers other models. For example, R. Dov Ber, the “middle Admor” of Chabad, among others, was known for praying quietly. In the book Tzvaat Ha-Ribash we find: “A person has to learn and practice praying – even the songs of praise – in a low voice and to shout in a whisper, whether he is singing songs of praise or studying Torah with all his might. This is as it is written (Tehillim 35:10), ‘All my bones shall say…’” (Sefer Tzvaat Ha-Ribash, Kehat edition, Brooklyn 5758, ot 33). Here prayer sounds quiet, but is in fact a powerful cry that is subdued and squashed. When one cries out inwardly, without any outward sound, the soundwaves are closed up inside the body, to the point that one feels the cry echoing in one’s bones. 

[8] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 16.

[9] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 9.

[10] Esh Kodesh, Parashat Nitzavim 5700, p. 62 ( Sacred Fire: Torah From the Years of Fury 1939-1942, Translation by J. Hershy Worch, p. 124).

[11] Ibid., p. 63 (=p. 125). For the inner cry in the teachings of R. Nachman of Breslov, see Likkutei Moharan Tanina, 5. This teaching addresses a person who has experienced such a great and steep fall that crying aloud is of no benefit. R. Nachman proposes that he cry out from the heart, and as proof he cites the verse, “From the depths I cry out to You, O Lord.”

[12] Esh Kodesh, Shabbat Shuva 5700, p. 128.

[13] Ibid.

 

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

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Dedicated in memory of Rabbi Jack Sable z”l and

Ambassador Yehuda Avner z”l

By Debbi and David Sable

*************************************************************

 

*************************************************************

In memory of David Yehuda Ben Shaul z”l (Mr. David Goldstein)

whose shloshim fell this week

*************************************************************

 

 

Shiur #48: Prophecy

 

 

Introduction

 

Although Chazal teach that prophecy ceased among Am Yisrael upon the deaths of the last of the prophets – Chaggai, Zekharia and Malakhi[1] – over the generations there have been individuals who have attempted to attain prophetic vision and to revive prophecy.[2] The consensus, based on many different sources, is that prophecy will return in the future. Moreover, Chazal taught that while in the past prophecy was limited to individuals, in the future it will be part of everyone’s experience.[3]

 

R. Kalonymus dealt extensively with the subject of prophecy, its essence, and the connection between it and chassidut. His main contribution lies in the fact that he not only spoke and wrote about prophecy, but also instructed his chassidim in practical methods for renewal of “the service of prophecy.” These methods, previously known only to prophets, kabbalists, and other select individuals, were now addressed to the layman. R. Kalonymus sought to restore the Jewish People to their status as “sons of prophets.”[4]

 

The “Service of Prophecy”

 

Even R. Kalonymus notes that, sadly, “for a long time the gates of heaven have been locked, and we have neither prophets nor seers.”[5] All that remains of the words of the prophets has been codified in the holy books, with the accepted principle that prophecies that are relevant for future generations were committed to writing. But what were the functions of a prophet? Did he serve as a sort of “fortune-teller,” predicting the future; was his role to help search for lost donkeys, as Shemuel helped Shaul?[6] Was he supposed to bring blessing and supply flour and oil,[7] or was he charged with instructing the nation in anticipation of going out to battle? From the verses in Tanakh, we can learn something of the actions undertaken by the prophet, but we have no access to his essence, just as we cannot know the essence of a “tzaddik,” but rather only observe his actions,[8] since the tzaddik’s greatness is so far beyond what the congregation of chassidim is capable of grasping. However, study of the inner teachings of the Torah – the Zohar and other kabbalistic works – allows us to characterize the essence of the prophet.

 

Prophecy is a level of Divine service. Just as there are levels of a “chassid,” of a “tzaddik,” and of a “chakham,” there are levels of a prophet:

 

In other words, it is not the performance of wonders or the foretelling of the future that is the essence of a prophet, but rather his closeness to God.[9]

 

The main service of a prophet is his aspiration for closeness to God, and he achieves this through purification of his body and soul to the point that he attains devekut. Here R. Kalonymus bases himself on the teachings of R. Chaim Vital, the disciple of the Ari, in the introduction to his Sha’arei Kedusha. R. Chaim Vital claims that there are exceptional individuals who seek ways to achieve complete devekut, like the early prophets:

 

So says the small one, Chaim the son of R. Yosef Vital of blessed memory: I have seen exceptional people (bnei aliya) – and they are few – who yearn to ascend, but the ladder is hidden from them. So they contemplate the books of the early Sages to search and find the path of life, the road upon which to travel, and the actions to do, to elevate their soul to its root above, and to cling to the blessed God. For this is everlasting perfection, similar to the prophets, who cleaved to their Creator all their lives. And by virtue of this clinging, the holy spirit settled on them, showing them which path leads to light and enlightening them in the secrets of the Torah, as King David prayed: “Open my eyes that I may gaze at the wonders of Your Torah” (Tehillim 119:18). They would be led along a straight path, prepared by the men of aliya, to reach the place of civilization awaiting them with the bnei aliya.[10]

 

It should be noted that the fact that R. Kalonymus bases his idea on R. Chaim Vital in Shaarei Kedusha is highly significant, since the whole point of Shaarei Kedusha is the attainment of the level of ruach ha-kodesh. As the book explains, this is attained through working on one’s character, observing all of the Torah and the mitzvot, teshuva, sanctifying oneself, meditation, and visualization. According to R. Chaim:

 

With our own ears we have heard and with our own eyes we have seen singular individuals who have attained the level of ruach ha-kodesh in our times.[11]

 

R. Kalonymus concludes, on this basis, that there is a difference between prophecy and “the service of prophecy.” Even though prophecy proper ceased with the destruction of the First Temple, “the service of prophecy continues to this day.”[12] Therefore, even in our times, “even a person who does not merit to have God speak to him through prophecy still serves [Him] through the service of prophecy.”[13]

 

What is “the service of prophecy,” according to R. Kalonymus? The main requirement of a prophet, before he can receive prophecy, is to pursue devekut with both his body and his soul. He cannot suffice with elevating his soul to holiness, but rather must “remove the boundary between the holy and the profane”[14] and sanctify his body as well.

 

The prophet essentially serves as a point of contact between the Divine and the material. The question of the possibility of such contact arises at the very creation of the world. How could the infinite Divine light descend from its supernal lofty heights to the lowest, coarsest of worlds? Kabbala deals with this question at length, setting forth a system of descending, unfolding, and constricting. Ultimately, however, after all the progressive concealment of the Divine light, a person exists in this material world and cries out for closeness to God. Can he actually encounter the Divine light, or is he condemned to living his life in a world that is dark, bereft of God’s presence?

 

R. Kalonymus explains that there are places that offer a point of contact between the material and the spiritual. At these places, the physical and spiritual are one, and there a person can encounter the Divine light.[15] Mount Sinai was one such place; there God “brought the heavens down to the mountain.” The Mishkan was similarly a place where “the earthly and the heavenly kissed”[16] – the spiritual essence of the Mishkan was discernible even in its material form. The Temple likewise featured an interesting phenomenon, whereby the windows were narrow on the inside and wider on the outside, so that the light from within the Temple could illuminate outwards.[17] What effect would the windows have on the dissemination of the light of holiness? Is Divine holiness limited by the angle of the windows? R. Kalonymus explains that this teaches us that “in the Temple, boundaries are erased and there is no difference between the physical and the spiritual.”[18]

 

Now we can understand better the essence of the prophet: Since the way of the prophet’s service was to purify his body and to cleave to God, there was no distinction in him between the material and Divine holiness: “And he himself became a place where the earthly and the Divine met.” Via the prophet, the Divine light would spread amongst Israel, filling their bodies and souls with light. Not only God’s word was conveyed to Israel via the prophet, but also the will and desire to fulfill God’s word.

 

The prophets should therefore not be viewed solely as disciplinary figures who spouted rebuke, seeking to prevent the people from stealing and other crimes. They wanted to see all of Israel elevated to the level of prophets, as Moshe had said: “If only all of God’s nation were prophets” (Bamidbar 11:29). The prophets worked on improving and preparing the nation for the illumination of prophecy, and by virtue of their efforts, God was able to “dwell and be one with all of Israel.”

 

(To be continued)

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] Tosefta, Sota 13:3; Sanhedrin 11a. For further discussion, see E. Urbach, “Matai Paska Ha-Nevua,” Me-Olamam shel Chakhamim (Jerusalem, 5748), pp. 9-20.

[2] Many sources attest to aspirations to experience Divine inspiration (ruach ha-kodesh), heavenly voices (bat kol), revelations in dreams, meetings with Eliyahu, and even prophecy itself. See A.J. Heschel, “Al Ruach Ha-Kodesh BieYemei Ha-Benayim Ad Zemano shel Ha-Rambam,” Sefer Ha-Yovel Le-Khvod Alexander Marx (New York, 5710), pp. 175-208, including a special chapter on the Rambam’s attitude towards prophecy. Heschel maintains that the Rambam believed that he had achieved prophecy, since prophecy is a natural experience that comes to anyone who is worthy of it. See A.J. Heschel, “Ha-He’emin Ha-Rambam She-Zakha Le-Nevua,” Sefer Ha-Yovel Le-Khvod Levi Ginsburg (New York, 5706), pp. 159-188. See also Heschel’s comprehensive work on prophecy, A.J. Heschel, The Prophets (Evanston: New York, 1962). For manifestations of prophetic revelations in modern times, see E. Schweid, Nevi’im Le-Amam Ve-La-Enoshut: Nevuah U-Neviim Be-Hagut Ha-Yehudit shel Ha-Me’ah Ha-Esrim (Jerusalem, 5759).

[3] Tanchuma, Miketz 2.

[4] Concerning the appellation “sons of prophets,” which R. Kalonymus uses often, R. Yehuda Ha-Levi writes, in Sefer Ha-Kuzari III:1:

When the Divine Presence was still in the Holy Land among the people capable of prophecy, some few persons lived an ascetic life in deserts and associated with people of the same frame of mind. They did not seclude themselves completely, but they endeavored to find mutual support in the knowledge of the Law and in holy and pure actions which brought them near to that high rank. These were the “sons (or disciples) of the prophets.”

[5] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 171.

[6] See Shemuel I 9:9.

[7] See Melakhim I 17:1-16.

[8] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 174.

[9] Ibid., p. 175.

[10] Ibid., p 174; Rav Chaim Vital, Shaare Kedusha (Jerusalem, 5745), Introduction.

[11] Ibid., part III, sha’ar shevi’i, p. 149.

[12] Mevo Ha-Shearim, p. 176.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Ibid.

[15] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 177.

[16] Bava Batra 83a.

[17] As recorded in Bamidbar Rabba 15:2:

When a person builds a house, he makes windows that are narrow on the outside and wide on the inside, so that the light can come in from outside and illuminate inside. When Shlomo built the Temple, he did otherwise: He made windows that were narrow on the inside and wide on the outside, so that the light would emerge from the Temple and illuminate outward, as it is written (Melakhim I 6), “And he made for the Sanctuary windows that were narrow within and wide without [literally, ‘transparent and opaque’]” – indicating that it [the House] was all light, and there was no need for the light of the windows. And why did [God] command you [concerning them]? For your merit.

[18] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 178.

 

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

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The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

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whose shloshim fell this week

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Shiur #48: Prophecy

 

 

Introduction

 

Although Chazal teach that prophecy ceased among Am Yisrael upon the deaths of the last of the prophets – Chaggai, Zekharia and Malakhi[1] – over the generations there have been individuals who have attempted to attain prophetic vision and to revive prophecy.[2] The consensus, based on many different sources, is that prophecy will return in the future. Moreover, Chazal taught that while in the past prophecy was limited to individuals, in the future it will be part of everyone’s experience.[3]

 

R. Kalonymus dealt extensively with the subject of prophecy, its essence, and the connection between it and chassidut. His main contribution lies in the fact that he not only spoke and wrote about prophecy, but also instructed his chassidim in practical methods for renewal of “the service of prophecy.” These methods, previously known only to prophets, kabbalists, and other select individuals, were now addressed to the layman. R. Kalonymus sought to restore the Jewish People to their status as “sons of prophets.”[4]

 

The “Service of Prophecy”

 

Even R. Kalonymus notes that, sadly, “for a long time the gates of heaven have been locked, and we have neither prophets nor seers.”[5] All that remains of the words of the prophets has been codified in the holy books, with the accepted principle that prophecies that are relevant for future generations were committed to writing. But what were the functions of a prophet? Did he serve as a sort of “fortune-teller,” predicting the future; was his role to help search for lost donkeys, as Shemuel helped Shaul?[6] Was he supposed to bring blessing and supply flour and oil,[7] or was he charged with instructing the nation in anticipation of going out to battle? From the verses in Tanakh, we can learn something of the actions undertaken by the prophet, but we have no access to his essence, just as we cannot know the essence of a “tzaddik,” but rather only observe his actions,[8] since the tzaddik’s greatness is so far beyond what the congregation of chassidim is capable of grasping. However, study of the inner teachings of the Torah – the Zohar and other kabbalistic works – allows us to characterize the essence of the prophet.

 

Prophecy is a level of Divine service. Just as there are levels of a “chassid,” of a “tzaddik,” and of a “chakham,” there are levels of a prophet:

 

In other words, it is not the performance of wonders or the foretelling of the future that is the essence of a prophet, but rather his closeness to God.[9]

 

The main service of a prophet is his aspiration for closeness to God, and he achieves this through purification of his body and soul to the point that he attains devekut. Here R. Kalonymus bases himself on the teachings of R. Chaim Vital, the disciple of the Ari, in the introduction to his Sha’arei Kedusha. R. Chaim Vital claims that there are exceptional individuals who seek ways to achieve complete devekut, like the early prophets:

 

So says the small one, Chaim the son of R. Yosef Vital of blessed memory: I have seen exceptional people (bnei aliya) – and they are few – who yearn to ascend, but the ladder is hidden from them. So they contemplate the books of the early Sages to search and find the path of life, the road upon which to travel, and the actions to do, to elevate their soul to its root above, and to cling to the blessed God. For this is everlasting perfection, similar to the prophets, who cleaved to their Creator all their lives. And by virtue of this clinging, the holy spirit settled on them, showing them which path leads to light and enlightening them in the secrets of the Torah, as King David prayed: “Open my eyes that I may gaze at the wonders of Your Torah” (Tehillim 119:18). They would be led along a straight path, prepared by the men of aliya, to reach the place of civilization awaiting them with the bnei aliya.[10]

 

It should be noted that the fact that R. Kalonymus bases his idea on R. Chaim Vital in Shaarei Kedusha is highly significant, since the whole point of Shaarei Kedusha is the attainment of the level of ruach ha-kodesh. As the book explains, this is attained through working on one’s character, observing all of the Torah and the mitzvot, teshuva, sanctifying oneself, meditation, and visualization. According to R. Chaim:

 

With our own ears we have heard and with our own eyes we have seen singular individuals who have attained the level of ruach ha-kodesh in our times.[11]

 

R. Kalonymus concludes, on this basis, that there is a difference between prophecy and “the service of prophecy.” Even though prophecy proper ceased with the destruction of the First Temple, “the service of prophecy continues to this day.”[12] Therefore, even in our times, “even a person who does not merit to have God speak to him through prophecy still serves [Him] through the service of prophecy.”[13]

 

What is “the service of prophecy,” according to R. Kalonymus? The main requirement of a prophet, before he can receive prophecy, is to pursue devekut with both his body and his soul. He cannot suffice with elevating his soul to holiness, but rather must “remove the boundary between the holy and the profane”[14] and sanctify his body as well.

 

The prophet essentially serves as a point of contact between the Divine and the material. The question of the possibility of such contact arises at the very creation of the world. How could the infinite Divine light descend from its supernal lofty heights to the lowest, coarsest of worlds? Kabbala deals with this question at length, setting forth a system of descending, unfolding, and constricting. Ultimately, however, after all the progressive concealment of the Divine light, a person exists in this material world and cries out for closeness to God. Can he actually encounter the Divine light, or is he condemned to living his life in a world that is dark, bereft of God’s presence?

 

R. Kalonymus explains that there are places that offer a point of contact between the material and the spiritual. At these places, the physical and spiritual are one, and there a person can encounter the Divine light.[15] Mount Sinai was one such place; there God “brought the heavens down to the mountain.” The Mishkan was similarly a place where “the earthly and the heavenly kissed”[16] – the spiritual essence of the Mishkan was discernible even in its material form. The Temple likewise featured an interesting phenomenon, whereby the windows were narrow on the inside and wider on the outside, so that the light from within the Temple could illuminate outwards.[17] What effect would the windows have on the dissemination of the light of holiness? Is Divine holiness limited by the angle of the windows? R. Kalonymus explains that this teaches us that “in the Temple, boundaries are erased and there is no difference between the physical and the spiritual.”[18]

 

Now we can understand better the essence of the prophet: Since the way of the prophet’s service was to purify his body and to cleave to God, there was no distinction in him between the material and Divine holiness: “And he himself became a place where the earthly and the Divine met.” Via the prophet, the Divine light would spread amongst Israel, filling their bodies and souls with light. Not only God’s word was conveyed to Israel via the prophet, but also the will and desire to fulfill God’s word.

 

The prophets should therefore not be viewed solely as disciplinary figures who spouted rebuke, seeking to prevent the people from stealing and other crimes. They wanted to see all of Israel elevated to the level of prophets, as Moshe had said: “If only all of God’s nation were prophets” (Bamidbar 11:29). The prophets worked on improving and preparing the nation for the illumination of prophecy, and by virtue of their efforts, God was able to “dwell and be one with all of Israel.”

 

(To be continued)

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] Tosefta, Sota 13:3; Sanhedrin 11a. For further discussion, see E. Urbach, “Matai Paska Ha-Nevua,” Me-Olamam shel Chakhamim (Jerusalem, 5748), pp. 9-20.

[2] Many sources attest to aspirations to experience Divine inspiration (ruach ha-kodesh), heavenly voices (bat kol), revelations in dreams, meetings with Eliyahu, and even prophecy itself. See A.J. Heschel, “Al Ruach Ha-Kodesh BieYemei Ha-Benayim Ad Zemano shel Ha-Rambam,” Sefer Ha-Yovel Le-Khvod Alexander Marx (New York, 5710), pp. 175-208, including a special chapter on the Rambam’s attitude towards prophecy. Heschel maintains that the Rambam believed that he had achieved prophecy, since prophecy is a natural experience that comes to anyone who is worthy of it. See A.J. Heschel, “Ha-He’emin Ha-Rambam She-Zakha Le-Nevua,” Sefer Ha-Yovel Le-Khvod Levi Ginsburg (New York, 5706), pp. 159-188. See also Heschel’s comprehensive work on prophecy, A.J. Heschel, The Prophets (Evanston: New York, 1962). For manifestations of prophetic revelations in modern times, see E. Schweid, Nevi’im Le-Amam Ve-La-Enoshut: Nevuah U-Neviim Be-Hagut Ha-Yehudit shel Ha-Me’ah Ha-Esrim (Jerusalem, 5759).

[3] Tanchuma, Miketz 2.

[4] Concerning the appellation “sons of prophets,” which R. Kalonymus uses often, R. Yehuda Ha-Levi writes, in Sefer Ha-Kuzari III:1:

When the Divine Presence was still in the Holy Land among the people capable of prophecy, some few persons lived an ascetic life in deserts and associated with people of the same frame of mind. They did not seclude themselves completely, but they endeavored to find mutual support in the knowledge of the Law and in holy and pure actions which brought them near to that high rank. These were the “sons (or disciples) of the prophets.”

[5] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 171.

[6] See Shemuel I 9:9.

[7] See Melakhim I 17:1-16.

[8] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 174.

[9] Ibid., p. 175.

[10] Ibid., p 174; Rav Chaim Vital, Shaare Kedusha (Jerusalem, 5745), Introduction.

[11] Ibid., part III, sha’ar shevi’i, p. 149.

[12] Mevo Ha-Shearim, p. 176.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Ibid.

[15] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 177.

[16] Bava Batra 83a.

[17] As recorded in Bamidbar Rabba 15:2:

When a person builds a house, he makes windows that are narrow on the outside and wide on the inside, so that the light can come in from outside and illuminate inside. When Shlomo built the Temple, he did otherwise: He made windows that were narrow on the inside and wide on the outside, so that the light would emerge from the Temple and illuminate outward, as it is written (Melakhim I 6), “And he made for the Sanctuary windows that were narrow within and wide without [literally, ‘transparent and opaque’]” – indicating that it [the House] was all light, and there was no need for the light of the windows. And why did [God] command you [concerning them]? For your merit.

[18] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 178.

 

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

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Ambassador Yehuda Avner z”l

By Debbi and David Sable

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Shiur #49: Levels of Prophecy

 

 

Chazal teach that “there were forty-eight men prophets and seven women prophets who prophesized for Israel” (Megilla 14a), but they also teach that “Many prophets arose in Israel, double the number of those who came out of Egypt” (ibid.). This suggests that there were not forty-eight prophets, but rather an immeasurably greater number, considering that Bnei Yisrael numbered six hundred thousand when they left Egypt.[1] The gemara resolves the discrepancy by concluding, “Prophecies that were relevant for future generations were committed to writing; those that were not, were not committed to writing” (ibid.).

 

R. Kalonymus finds it difficult to accept Rashi’s explanation (ad loc.) that the forty-eight men prophets and seven women prophets studied teachings and mussar that would be needed for future generations, while the other prophets spoke about future events to their generations alone.[2] Is it possible that all the other prophets did not also convey teachings and mussar? Surely not. Rather, argues R. Kalonymus, the function of the forty-eight men prophets and seven women prophets was to convey God’s word to all the generations, while the other prophets “enabled their own [respective] generations to receive and internalize God’s spirit.”[3]

 

But why was there a need for so many prophets to prepare and enable the people to receive prophecy? R. Kalonymus refers us once again to Sha’arei Kedusha, where we learn of the complex path of service required to prepare for the Divine spirit – “unimaginable, endless tikkunim and preparations.” Not only is the preparation for prophecy a complex and protracted process, but a great number of teachers of prophecy were necessary, so that a special tikkun could be devised and adapted for each and every individual. No single prophet could prepare and train the entire nation. R. Kalonymus in fact describes academies in which many prophets taught throughout the generations,[4] training people to receive prophecy.

 

R. Kalonymus goes on to explain that a distinction should be drawn between two types of prophets: The forty-eight prophets and seven prophetesses “brought down the [Divine] light from the supernal worlds” into the physical, material world, while the other prophets of later generations concerned themselves with the repair and elevation of this world so that it would be ready for and capable of receiving the light brought down by the early prophets. Their method of impacting this world was by working to repair and prepare Am Yisrael to receive prophecy.[5] R. Kalonymus expresses great longing when he writes that through the activity of both types of prophets, all of Israel merited to be affected and influenced by prophecy. Even “the simplest of simple people… could not fail to draw close to God with prophetically-inspired closeness and elevation.”[6]

 

Absence of Prophecy Today

 

The reason for the absence of prophecy today is the simple fact that the gates of heaven have been shut tight,[7] and “the prophets who existed throughout all the generations are sadly lacking.”[8] However, what we lack today is more than just the experience of direct prophecy. Even the words of the prophets, handed down to us in Tanakh, are not fully accessible to us, because we lack the prophets who used to prepare Am Yisrael for prophecy. Thus, “we fail to grasp even the words of Moshe and the forty-eight prophets and seven prophetesses in the fullness of their illumination.”[9]

 

The Sages of the Oral Torah as Kabbalists and Prophets

 

The end of prophecy does not mean a complete cessation of illumination to Am Yisrael. The light of prophecy passed to the masters of Halakha. The Men of the Great Assembly, the Tannaim, Amoraim, Geonim, and all the sages of the Oral Law, brought light from the supernal worlds into our material reality. R. Kalonymus bases himself in this regard on a teaching by R. Avdimi: “From the day that the Temple was destroyed, prophecy was taken from the prophets and given to the Sages” (Bava Batra 12a). The wisdom of the Torah is not just a reflection of human intellect; it also contains Divine light.[10]

 

The Sages of the Oral Law were kabbalists. The Oral Law itself, although generally regarded as belonging to nigleh – i.e., the “revealed” teachings – is actually based on mystical traditions, as stated explicitly in a teaching of the Zohar quoted by R. Kalonymus: “The Tannaim and Amoraim [i.e., the Sages of the Mishna and the Talmud] – all their teachings are based on the [mystical] secrets of the Torah.”[11] This fact has far-reaching ramifications, in view of the conventional perception that the “revealed” and “hidden” (i.e., kabbalistic) aspects are two distinct branches of Torah. Here we encounter the claim that the Oral Torah is in fact based on the hidden, inner teachings. At the same time, R. Kalonymus adds that although Kabbala was hidden within the Torah, and although the Oral Law was built on the foundations of Kabbala, R. Shimon bar Yochai and his colleagues were permitted to create an opening for the study of Kabbala as a special branch of Torah.[12]

 

The kabbalistic Sages occupy different levels. R. Kalonymus draws a distinction between those who “ascend with the [Divine] chariot” – i.e., those sages who entered the supernal “pardes” (literally, “orchard,” an abbreviation of the different levels of interpretation of the Torah) and “ascended to the firmament” and those (like R. Shimon bar Yochai and his colleagues) who effected a “drawing down” of Divine light, such that even those who are incapable of living on the spiritual level of those who rose up to the heavens could still study Kabbala and benefit from its illumination.[13] R. Shimon bar Yochai and his generation merited the revelation of great and profound secrets that King Shelomo and his generation did not merit to understand, even though the time of Shelomo was a period of “the moon in its fullness.”

 

Kabbala as the Continuation of Prophecy

 

It is no coincidence that the appearance of Kabbala, the revelation of Sefer Ha-Zohar, and the flourishing of kabbalistic literature that followed took place after the cessation of prophecy. What in fact happened was that fundamental aspects of prophecy took on a new form in Kabbala.

 

R. Kalonymus maintains that there is a great similarity between the kabbalists and the prophets. Both the prophet and the kabbalist use the power of the imagination to express their visions. The prophet envisions the heavenly Chariot, the holy “chayot” and the Throne of Glory, while the kabbalist, from the Sefer Ha-Zohar onwards, describes the four worlds – Atzilut, Beria, Yetzira, and Asiya – as well as the “partzufim” and sefirot. Both schools describe supernal perceptions by means of images, and therefore “the kabbalists, too, perceived not only Adam Kadmon, Tiferet, and Malkhut, but also prophetic visions.”[14] Elsewhere, in reference to the greatest of the kabbalists, R. Kalonymus writes, “The holy Zohar… is the revelation of real prophecy.”[15]

 

However, not only the giants of Kabbala, but all those who study the inner teachings of the Torah may “merit the spark of prophecy that is in Kabbala – each individual in accordance with his level.”[16] This is so because when one studies Kabbala, if he has prepared himself properly and purified his body and his heart, he may merit an elevated level of insight the likes of which he has not experienced before. R. Kalonymus describes this as “a sparkling before him of something of God’s greatness.”[17]

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] This is the number of adult men, without the women and children. See, for example, Shir Ha-Shirim Rabba 3:4: “Six hundred thousand [males] came out of Egypt aged twenty and upwards.”

[2] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 171.

[3] Ibid., p. 182.

[4] In the context of apprenticeship of prophets, it is interesting to note what Ramchal writes, although he is not cited by R. Kalonymus:

It is important to know that the prophet did not achieve the most elevated level all at once; rather, he ascended stage by stage until he achieved full prophecy. It involved a process of learning, like any other wisdom or craft in which a person gradually acquires proficiency. This is the meaning of the term “the children of prophets” – they stood before the prophet, acquiring proficiency in the ways of prophecy and its requirements. (R. Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, Derekh Hashem [Jerusalem, 5738] 3:4).

[5] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 184.

[6] Ibid., p. 185.

[7] Ibid., p. 171.

[8] Ibid. p. 183.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Mevo Ha-She’arim, pp. 185-187.

[11] Zohar, Ra’aya Mehimna, Pinchas 244b. The same idea is expressed by various kabbalists; see R. Wacks, Be-Sod Ha-Yichud: Ha-Yichudim Be-Haguto Ha-Kabalit-Chasidit shel R. Chaim ben Shelomo Tirer Mi-Tshernowitz (Los Angeles, 2006), p. 54.

[12] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 187.

[13]  Ibid.

[14] Ibid., p. 206.

[15] Ibid., p. 252.

[16] Ibid., p. 213.

[17] Ibid.

 

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

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The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

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Shiur #50: Kabbala, Chassidut, and Prophecy

 

 

R. Kalonymus devotes lengthy discussion to the Ba’al Shem Tov’s innovative teachings with regard to Kabbala. This discussion may aid us in understanding the connection between prophecy and chassidut, as R. Kalonymus understands it, since Kabbala is a way-station (both historically and in terms of its essence) between the generations of the prophets and the appearance of Chassidism.

 

Whereas the kabbalistic teachings of the Zohar and the Ari set forth the hierarchy of the sefirot and partzufim, the Ba’al Shem Tov emphasized the concept of “the entire world is full of His glory” (Yishayahu 6:3) – in other words, God is to be found everywhere, literally:[1] “The foundation of the teachings of the Ba’al Shem Tov, of blessed memory, is encapsulated in the simple meaning that he revealed in the verse, ‘the entire world is full of His glory’.”[2] The verse indeed seems quite straightforward, R. Kalonymus notes, and seems to be making a clear statement, so why did the Ba’al Shem Tov face such fierce opposition and suffer such persecution for the crime of “corporealization of God”? The reason is that the Ba’al Shem Tov taught not only that Godliness is to be found everywhere, even within the physical, material world, but also that the physical world itself – the “garbs” and “vessels,” in kabbalistic language – are manifestations of Divine illumination. Even before the Ba’al Shem Tov’s appearance, the idea that God infuses all of Creation with life and its very existence was fundamental to Jewish faith. The claim that aroused such opposition – and which represents the essence of the Ba’al Shem Tov’s contribution – is that even the “vessels” are themselves Divine light: “Even physicality itself is the illumination of God’s holiness.”[3]

 

This assertion offers us a very clear understanding of the innovation that chassidut represented in relation to Kabbala. Until the appearance of the Ba’al Shem Tov, a person seeking spirituality and closeness to God approached his body and physical needs and desires as an all-out war. The strategy for achieving victory over the body and its base qualities was through repression and self-affliction. The aim was to arouse a sense of holiness from the depths of the soul and to “draw down Divine illumination” through the performance of mitzvot, prayer, and kavanot. The core of Divine service was located in the mind and was therefore mainly the province of the tzaddikim.[4]

 

Chassidut taught that the vessels also need to be sanctified. All the body’s inclinations – even those viewed in a negative light – are to be enlisted in serving God. Thus, Chassidut placed the emphasis on serving God with one’s body and one’s character. Kavanot and yichudim were set aside in favor of fervent and passionate prayer.[5] “By means of arousal of the senses, too, one is able to achieve holy passion.”[6]

 

Here R. Kalonymus raises the familiar question: How is it possible that we are given commandments that entail emotions, such as loving God and fearing Him? How can we be commanded to change something that we feel? He explains, in light of all of the above, that there is no real question here, and indeed chassidut awards it no serious treatment. If a person had no feeling at all, then the question would be a legitimate one. But since a person has many reasons and opportunities to arouse within himself feelings of love and fear with regard to this-worldly matters and to develop emotions such as anger and hatred towards earthly phenomena, such that he is able to apply his emotions as he wishes, there is no reason why he cannot enlist them in his service of God as well.

 

Chassidism and the Service of Prophecy

 

From R. Kalonymus’s words above, it would seem that Chassidism is identical, in terms of its manner of Divine service, to the service of prophecy. R. Kalonymus defines the service of prophecy as bringing one’s soul and body to cleaving to God,[7] and Chassidism has the same aim, as explained above in our previous discussions. Thus, R. Kalonymus leads us to the conclusion that the goal of chassidut is essentially renewal of the service of prophecy.

 

The similarity and identification of chassidut with prophecy are mentioned in several places in R. Kalonymus’s writings. We will review some examples.

 

In discussing the status of a simple, regular person in the eyes of prophecy and in the eyes of chassidut, he notes the great similarity:

 

This shows the similarity between chassidut and prophecy. In the case of prophecy, even a simple person who did not [stand] before the prophets – if he wanted to draw close to them and enjoy their illumination, he could himself become a different person and prophesy with them. And even if he did not prophesy for himself, and his prophecy ceased when he grew distant from them, in body and soul…. Likewise in the case of Chassidism. Even regular people – if they are God-fearing, wholehearted in their observance of the commandments, and possessing faith, they become chassidim, in accordance with their level, when they cleave to their Rebbe, even though chassidut is a very high level.[8]

 

It is interesting that Kabbala is different from Chassidism and prophecy with regard to this attitude towards regular, simple people. Kabbala – the study of the inner teachings of the Torah – is not available to the masses. “Not so prophecy, and certainly not chassidut, whose entire essence is to broaden and spread the light of God’s holiness even to the furthest places.”[9]

 

In describing the encounter between the chassid and his Rebbe, R. Kalonymus states that the Rebbe’s teaching is like prophecy: “The conveying of the [Rebbe’s] teaching and instruction is a glimmer of prophecy, and in prophecy, too, in accordance with the [level of the] people and in accordance with their needs, such prophecy is God’s word to the prophet”[10] – since, according to R. Kalonymus’s explanation, the prophet would devise a private, individualized tikkun for every individual in accordance with his level.[11]

 

The path of the Ba’al Shem Tov should be viewed as prophetic revelation. The appearance of the Ba’al Shem Tov and his interpretation of the verse, “the entire world is full of His glory,” effected new revelations. R. Kalonymus explains a fundamental principle relating to the manner in which Kabbala is transmitted: The vessel determines the nature of the revelation of light, since Divinity existed everywhere even before the Ba’al Shem Tov started talking about it, and obviously there is no disagreement between the Ba’al Shem Tov and the early kabbalists in this regard. However, the revelations of the Zohar were received in vessels of perception that were suited to previous generations; the same can be said for the Kabbala of R. Moshe Cordovero, and certainly the Kabbala of the Ari. When the Ba’al Shem Tov came along and revealed that the vessels themselves are brimming with Divine light, he thereby facilitated the revelation of that which was already known, in certain circles, but in “new vessels.” Thus, a seemingly “new path” in Divine service was created, and “the holy Zohar and the path of the Ba’al Shem Tov merged and united, and they manifest themselves in the same revelation.”[12]

 

When R. Kalonymus emphasizes the importance of Divine service and sanctification in order to achieve the level of chassidut, he identifies chassidut with prophecy:

 

For it is not in the mind or the intellect that one draws down Chassidic revelation, like prophecy, but rather by sanctifying one’s entire self, and this requires effort.[13]

 

Just as prophecy cannot be acquired purely through the application of the mind (at least according to R. Kalonymus), so chassidut cannot be acquired solely by means of the intellect. One has to internalize its values so that they become part of his personality, his character, and “all of his essence.”

 

And Your Sons and Daughters Shall Prophesize

 

We cited previously R. Chaim Vital’s description of people in his generation who merited prophecy.[14] According to R. Kalonymus, the same can be said of our own generations. In support of this claim, he cites a fascinating teaching by R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk, who quotes his great teacher, the Maggid of Mezeritsch:

 

We see that in our times, while we are in bitter exile, there are individuals who achieve ruach ha-kodesh more easily then was possible in the times of the prophets, when, as we know, it was necessary to engage extensively in vows and meditation in order to achieve prophecy and ruach ha-kodesh. The great Maggid offered a wondrous and beautiful parable in this regard: The situation may be compared to a king who is in his glorious home, in his courtyard, in his palace, and one of his trusted subjects comes by, seeking to invite him [the king] to a meal at his home. The king would certainly become angry at him, for it is not befitting the king’s honor to depart from his palace and go to someone else’s home, even if the meal were to be a great banquet. One could not invite the king to his home without making all extensive preparations and appointing respected intercessors and attendants to find favor in the eyes of the king, so that he would come to the meal. But when the king is on the road and wishes to sleep over somewhere, then if he finds suitable accommodation in a clean inn – even if it is in a village – then so long as it is clean, he is willing to stay over there. The meaning of the parable is clear: While the Temple stood and the Divine Presence resided in the Holy of Holies, if a person wished to imbibe ruach ha-kodesh or prophecy, he had to invest great effort – as we find in the case of Simchat Beit Ha-Shoeva, where they would literally draw out ruach ha-kodesh. But now, during our bitter exile, even the holy Shekhina is in exile along with us, and for our many sins it must roam and wander, and it yearns greatly to find a place in which it can reside. If it finds a resting-place in the form of a person who is merely clean of sins and transgressions, then there it will reside.[15]

 

Thus, paradoxically, it is precisely the deterioration of the generations since the destruction of the Temple and the exile that makes it easier for a person to encounter the King of the universe.

 

This tradition of ruach ha-kodesh and prophecy residing in the generations from the beginning of chassidut is interwoven in the teachings of Polish Chassidism. R. Kalonymus cites proof of this from Maor Va-Shemesh:

 

And it is known – and I have seen it myself – that the great tzaddikim, who cleave to the upper worlds, are divested of the garb of physicality; the Divine Presence rests upon them and speaks from their throats, and their mouths utter prophecy. And these tzaddikim are unaware, afterwards, of what they said, for they cleave to the upper worlds, and the Divine Presence speaks from their throats.[16]

 

In his famous Iggeret Ha-Kodesh, the Ba’al Shem Tov, trailblazer of the path of chassidut, describes the ascents of his soul to heaven. His disciples, following his wondrous example, left many sources indicating that chassidut viewed itself as reviving or renewing prophecy.[17] Hence, we might conclude that what R. Kalonymus writes about the connection between Chassidism and prophecy is not as radical as we might have thought.

 

However, this conclusion would be mistaken. Although in terms of the connection between Chassidism and prophecy, R. Kalonymus tells us nothing new, his innovation in relation to his predecessors lies in the setting down of a detailed program to revive and restore the “service of prophecy.” R. Kalonymus sought to bring back the service of prophecy not just to select individuals and tzaddikim, but to each and every Jew. He viewed this as an aim that pertained not only to adults; children, too, should be educated and habituated in the service of prophecy.

 

R. Kalonymus writes this explicitly in Chovat Ha-Talmidim, his Chassidic mussar work that is unique in that it addresses younger readers directly. He writes:

 

If you are discouraged because your immediate ancestry is undistinguished, lift yourself up and gaze beyond, deeper into your past. You are descended from holy men and women, from prophets, from the sages of the Mishna and Talmud, from great rabbinic masters and tzaddikim. The Talmud states (Pesachim 66a) that the people of Israel, if they are not prophets themselves, are at least the children of prophets. It is clear from the context that the Talmud is not referring to the distant past, but means to suggest that even now a spark of the prophetic power of his ancestors is to be found within every Jewish child. All you have to do is dig for it and you will discover it within you.[18]

 

These words, I believe, encapsulate the essence of R. Kalonymus’s great vision: exposing the prophetic potential of each and every Jew. R. Kalonymus uses the rest of the book to provide guidance to the reader as to how to bring this idea to realization.

 

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] For more on this concept see the earlier shiur on “God, the World, and Man”.

[2] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 214.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid., p. 223.

[5] For discussion of this subject in the teachings of R. Kalonymus, see R. Sacks, “Ha-Hitragshut Ve-Ha-Hitlahavut Be-Mishnato Ha-Chinukhit shel R. Kalonymus Kalmish Shapiro Mi-Piaseczno”, Hagut Be-Chinukh Ha-Yehudi 5-6 (5763-5764), pp. 71-88.

[6] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 227.

[7] See our earlier discussion on “The service of prophecy.”

[8] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 262.

[9] Ibid., p. 263.

[10] Ibid., p. 243.

[11] Ibid., p. 183.

[12] Ibid., p. 257.

[13] Ibid., p. 272.

[14] See our previous discussion of “The Service of Prophecy.”

[15] R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk, No’am Elimelekh (Jerusalem, 5752), Parashat Vayeshev.

[16] R. Kalonymus Kalman Ha-Levi Epstein, Maor Va-Shemesh (Jerusalem, 5748), Parashat Vayigash.

[17] See “Iggeret Ha-Kodesh," Shivchei Ha-Besht (Mintz edition, Jerusalem, 5729). The prophetic Kabbala of R. Avraham Abulafia played a central role in this. See M. Idel, Ha-Chassidut – Bein Ekstaza Le-Magia (Jerusalem-Tel Aviv, 5761), p. 111, and s.v. “nevua” (prophecy). There are some important sources quoted in R. Schatz, Ha-Chassidut Ke-Mystika (Jerusalem, 5748), chapter 8, esp. pp. 121-122. These sources indicate the possibility of the realization of prophecy in light of the idea of God’s presence in Creation, and the fact that the Divine Presence speaks through the throats of those who have prepared themselves for this. For prophets from pre-chassidic groups with links to Chassidism, see Y. Weiss, Chavurat Pneomatikanim Kedam-Chassidit, in D. Assaf (ed.), Tzaddik Ve-Eda (Jerusalem, 5761), pp. 96-97, who presents additional sources relating to individuals who prophesized in the context of Sabbateanism. See also G. Scholem, Shetei Ha-Eduyot Ha-Rishonot al Chavurat Ha-Chassidim Ve-Ha-Besht,” Tarbitz 20 (5710), pp. 228-240. Ben-Tzion Dinur views the Ba’al Shem Tov’s efforts to reach Eretz Yisrael as the beginning of “the preparation of the generation for redemption through the restoration of ruach ha-kodesh to Israel, which would follow this move [to Israel].” See B.Z. Dinur, “Reshita shel Ha-Chassidut Ve-Yesodoteha Va-Sotziali’im Ve-Ha-Meshichi’im,” Tzion 10 (5705), p. 162. In his article, Dinur cites several Chassidic texts that discuss prophecy and ruach ha-kodesh. 

[18] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, p. 32 (= A Student’s Obligation, pp. 26-27).

 

 

 

 

YESHIVAT HAR ETZION

ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)

*********************************************************

 

The Path of the Piaseczner Rebbe

By Dr. Ron Wacks

 

 

Shiur #51: Developing the Imagination as Preparation for Prophecy

 

 

Another aspect of R. Kalonymus’s aspiration and activity to prepare “children of prophets” in his generation was his engagement of the imagination. As noted previously, one of the central characteristics of the service of prophecy is the use of the imagination.[1] In all of his books – in Chovat Ha-Talmidim, meant for students of school age; in Chovat Ha-Avrekhim, meant for young men; and in Benei Machshava Tova, meant for a select group of chassidim dedicated to inner work – R. Kalonymus offers instruction in using the imagination. Renewal of this capacity and skill, he maintained, would be one of the central preparations for the training of “children of prophets.”

 

R. Kalonymus has the following to say about this training:

 

These tikkunim [in preparation to receive prophecy] are not always the same. For every generation – and indeed, every person – must progress in accordance with his own nature, physical condition, and positive and negative attributes, and in accordance with the strength of his mind, his imagination, etc., and thus his tikkunim will be specific to himself… And so it is with the nation as a whole: Although their aim was not to become great prophets, but rather to be God’s people, the people of the prophets, they needed this sort of tikkun. And since these tikkunim are not preparation for regular, mundane service, but rather are preparation for prophecy and for drawing down ruach ha-kodesh, therefore only prophets were able to set the tikkun for this nation.[2]

 

Here, R. Kalonymus asserts that the preparation required for each person is individual, dependent on his personality, and it was the prophets who were responsible for this preparation. This does not mean to suggest that all of Am Yisrael were prophets; rather, they were “people of the prophets” – in other words, capable of receiving God’s word (prophecy) via the prophets.

 

R. Kalonymus’s vision of developing “children of the prophets” to achieve their destiny appears not only in Chovat Ha-Talmidim, intended for younger readers. His work Benei Machshava Tova, intended for a select group that sought an especially high level of sanctity, offers instruction as to how, through use of the imagination and focused thinking, a person is able to experience visions of Divinity. R. Kalonymus directs members of the group to perceive Divinity everywhere in existence. One might question this: Are we then all prophets? Are we all capable of seeing Divinity? R. Kalonymus answers:

 

We have formed this community in order to transform each of our members into a person of spirit and mindfulness, to convey a new way of thinking and perceiving. Your mind will observe with new depth and clarity. As you resist the distractions of your physical surroundings, a sense of focused spiritual concentration will unfold within you. When you recite, “Blessed are You, Holy One, Master of all creation,” you visualize the “You” and you visualize the “Master of all creation.” Your eyes observe the Presence of God, which animates and surrounds everything, including yourself… What you see in the Holy Presence of God…

 

Now, do not resist our ideas by rationalizing that we plan to make a prophet out of you and move you out of the realm of reality. Hillel the Elder has already taught us about this (Pesachim 66b). Every Jew, even if not a prophet, is the descendant of prophets. Even among the prophets there are levels. Moshe, our teacher, reached a point at which he was told: ‘Man cannot see me and live’ (Shemot 23:20). But Yeshayahu and Yechezkel both claimed, “I would see the Lord” (Yeshayahu 6:1). There are levels upon levels. What our teacher Moshe wished to see, a man cannot see and survive. At a lower level, Yeshayahu and Yechezkel perceived God, and after many more steps and permutations, you, a simple Jew, can come to perceive as well.[3]

 

Elsewhere, R. Kalonymus writes:

 

When a person with developed awareness has moments of powerful, clear perception, he can see what the Israelite prophets saw: that we are in the palpable presence of God, be He blessed.[4]

 

R. Kalonymus believe that in our generation, everyone can be a chassid – a “child of prophets.”[5] Not everyone can be a prophet – in other words, a chassidic tzaddik – but everyone is capable of receiving and implementing the vision of the Ba’al Shem Tov and of his holy disciples. Thus, every individual, in accordance with his level, can discover within himself that he is a “son of the prophets.”

 

Breaking Through the Veil to See God

 

It is natural that a believer desires to see God. A believer who serves his Creator by performing His commandments, who turns to Him in prayer, and who involves Him in all that happens in his life – his celebrations as well as his pain – desires to see the “face” of God and to award Him the most tangible presence. The psalmist, whose soul yearns for God, seeks to behold Him: “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God?” (Tehillim 42:3). Although this verse may be interpreted as expressing the wish to go up to Jerusalem, to the Temple, the place where God resides, the plain meaning of the verse remains: A person seeks to “meet” God, face to face.

 

But is it possible to see God? Moshe asked to behold God and was told, “You cannot see My face, for no man shall see Me and live” (Shemot 32:20). Instead of seeing God’s “face,” Moshe was permitted to see a certain aspect of Him: “I will take away My hand and you shall see My back, but My face shall not be seen” (Shemot 33:23). Elsewhere, however, we read about Moshe and Aharon and seventy of the elders of Israel who did merit to see, seemingly with no constraint or barrier:

 

And they beheld the God of Israel, and there was under His feet the like of a paved work of sapphire stone, and the like of the very heaven for clearness. (Shemot 24:10)

 

Further descriptions of seeing God appear in various books of the Prophets. Yeshayahu describes, “I saw the Lord sitting upon a Throne, high and elevated, and His train filled the Temple” (Yeshayahu 6:1). Yechezkel describes the heavenly Chariot and the Divine Throne: “And upon the likeness of the throne there was a likeness as the appearance of a man above it” (Yechezkel 1:26).

 

Jewish philosophy throughout the ages has grappled with this question of the possibility of an encounter between man and God. The scope of our discussion does not allow for comprehensive treatment of the range of views that have been offered in this regard. (Interested readers are referred to God in Search of Man, by R. Dr. Avraham Yehoshua Heschel.)

 

The possibility or impossibility of seeing God is connected to several fundamental questions, the most important of which concerns the nature of God – or, as the question was formulated in the Middle Ages, whether God is tangible or abstract. The second question flows from the first and focuses on human consciousness: Is man capable of perceiving God through his senses, through his intellect, or through some other faculty?

 

The third question concerns the nature of the reality in which we live and the connection between God and this world. For in plain terms, we cannot see God. In chassidut, the word “olam” (world) is understood as an allusion to “he’elem” (hiddenness) – the idea that God is hidden within Creation: "Truly You are God Who hides Himself" (Yeshayahu 45:15). The story is told of a child who came crying to his father, a chassidic leader, telling him that he was playing hide-and-seek with his friends, but they did not find him. His father had trouble understanding his misery: "But that's good; it means you hid well!" His son answered miserably, "But they didn't even come and look for me!" His father exclaimed, "That is exactly how God feels! He hides so that we will seek Him! The fact that He is 'God Who hides Himself' does not mean that He doesn't exist; it means that He wants us to exert ourselves to find Him! Sometimes we forget to see Him; we leave Him in His concealment….”

 

If God is indeed "hidden,” is there any way we can overcome this concealment and expose Him? Plato's metaphor of the dark cave prompted philosophical debate surrounding the idea of the dual nature of our reality, comprised of the world of the senses and the world of ideas. The metaphor describes a group of prisoners in an underground cave. The chains around their legs and necks do not allow them to turn and see behind them. The people living on the outside pass by the entrance to the cave, riding their donkeys and carrying their work implements, casting shadows on the inner wall of the cave. Thus, all that the prisoners know of the outside world is the shadows that they see moving on the wall. Those who were born into this situation and have never seen the world outside of the cave believe that what they see is the real world. In reality, it is a very partial and limited reflection. Only someone who has freed himself of his chains and has emerged from the cave to see the sunlight can encounter the real world. Plato maintained that the real world was the world of ideas and that man is capable of encountering this reality through his intellect. What the senses offer, in contrast, is not true knowledge, but rather a partial likeness of the intangible, concealed ideas. But we become convinced that what we see, hear and touch is real, just like the prisoners in the cave.[6]

 

R. Kalonymus maintains, in a similar way, that a person's life is covered by a screen, and he must find a way to see behind it. However, while Plato sought to reveal the world of ideas, R. Kalonymus seeks God:

 

Our true goal is quite different. In a single, powerful moment, you can remove the veil that blankets your perception of reality. You will see, in an unmistakable, unshakable flash, that you are standing in your place in the great chain of creation, among a huge camp of angels and holy beings. You yourself are one of them.[7]

 

With these words, R. Kalonymus expresses the duality of existence, comprising both "actuality" and "nothingness.” "Actuality" refers to that which appears real to mortal eyes, while "nothingness" refers to the Divinity that is clothed in "actuality" and gives it life. Chassidut demands that a person seek and expose the "nothingness,” constantly looking for God's hidden presence. In order to train his chassidim in this task, R. Kalonymus sets forth a practical program, based on group work in the framework of the "chavura.”

 

Purpose of the Chavura – To Perceive God

 

As we have seen, R. Kalonymus views the institution of the chavura as one of the ways to revive chassidut and restore it to its original glory. His writings on this subject include a special booklet that he intended for a group of select individuals, entitled Bnei Machshava Tova. The booklet, which addresses regular working people rather than full-time scholars, presents a program for spiritual development for anyone who feels “far from God.” The book would appear to be based on an actual group that was active with R. Kalonymus, as evidenced in the first-person plural formulation, such as, for instance, “our holy company,” “our society.”

 

The clearly-stated purpose of the group is to “see God”:

 

We have formed this community in order to transform each of our members into a person of spirit and mindfulness, to convey a new way of thinking and perceiving. Your mind will observe with new depth and clarity. As you resist the distractions of your physical surroundings, a sense of focused spiritual concentration will unfold within you. When you recite, “Blessed are You Holy One, Master of all creation,” you visualize the “You” and the “Master of all creation.” Your eyes observe the Presence of God, which animates and surrounds everything, including yourself. As you look around at all the physical world, what you see is the Holy Presence of God, pulsating and shimmering in everything. ‘You are the Master of all creation’; you are sept up in the pleasure of this understanding.”[8]

 

What is the meaning of this level of perception? How it is achieved? How does R. Kalonymus relate to the Rambam’s famous statement that anyone who attributes a bodily existence to God denies one of the central tenets of our faith, for God has no body and no bodily form? In order to understand R. Kalonymus’s approach, we must go back to two of the central tools that he employs: the mind and the imagination.

 

Translated by Kaeren Fish



[1] For more extensive discussion see our discussion of “The imagination and prophecy.”

[2] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 183.

[3] Bnei Machshava Tova, pp. 32-33 (= Conscious Community, pp. 49-50).

[4] Ibid., p. 13 (= p. 13).

[5] R. Kalonymus reiterated this idea of “the children of prophets” in his public sermons. An example is his sermon from Shabbat Parashat Beha’alotekha in the year 5690. See Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 154-155, where he explains at length and in detail what it means to “see God” and how this may be achieved.

[6]  A modern representation of the dual nature of human experience and reality can be found in the film The Matrix (Lana and Lilly Wachowski, 1999).

[7] Bnei Machshava Tova, p. 25 (= Conscious Community, pp. 34-35)

[8] Benei Machshava Tova, p. 32 (= Conscious Community, pp. 49-50)

 

 

 

Thinking about God’s Presence

 
According to R. Kalonymus, a precondition for any spiritual progress is purification of one’s body and thoughts.  In earlier generations, this task would be approached by first purifying the body (for instance, by denying oneself various bodily pleasures), and then moving on to purification of one’s thoughts. In our generations, characterized by weakness, there is no point in first addressing the body; rather, the mind must first be strengthened and purified by accustoming it to perceiving abstract, spiritual, holy images. It is for this reason that R. Kalonymus named his work “Bnei Machshava Tova” (literally, “People of Positive Thought”), asserting that “mindfulness is the tool we use to do our work; the basic principle and practice of our society is to expand and extend this capacity.”[1]
 
As noted previously, what R. Kalonymus means by “mind,” “thought,” or “mindfulness” is the act of conscious thought. It is not the same as intelligence.[2] In other words, the thinking that is needed to achieve fervor is not discursive activity (the logical thought that serves philosophers), but rather an act of profound concentration and meditation. Powerful thought means focused awareness, maintained over an extended period, regarding a certain object. Thinking that is fleeting or incidental is not powerful thought.[3]
 
Previously, we focused on the function of the mind in exposing the soul and arousing emotion. Here, the role of the mind is to reinforce within oneself one of the main principles of chassidut: God’s immanence. As we discussed extensively,[4] according to this principle, Divinity is to be found in everything. Chassidic philosophy – which makes extensive use of the expression from Tikkunei Ha-Zohar, “There is no place that is devoid of Him,”[5] and the Biblical verse, “The entire earth is full of His glory” (Yeshayahu 6:3) – does not suffice with an abstract understanding of this concept, but rather demands that a person internalize it in profound depth. The following teaching from the beit midrash of R. Dov-Ber of Mezeritch, a disciple of the Ba’al Shem Tov, is an example:
 
And one should think at all times that everything that exists in the world – it is all full of the blessed Creator.[6]
 
Attention should be paid to the expression “think at all times,” which parallels the term that R. Kalonymus uses – “powerful thought,” meaning thought that is constantly sustained and focused. When a person internalizes the Presence of God in every place, he “sees” within everything the outpouring of God’s powers and His vitality and he experiences God’s Presence.
 
A similar teaching is offered by R. Meshulem Feibush of Zbarizh, who offers a fascinating metaphor for the way in which two people can look at the same object but “see” different things:
 
If a person does not think about the blessed God constantly, then even if he believes in Him, He does not truly have God before him at all times, for he always has the world before him, and not thoughts of God. But one who does not think about the world at all will think, in whatever he sees, about God and how that thing is dependent on Him, and he will do so with great passion. This may be compared to someone who looks at a woman’s beautiful clothes. A person who is mired in the desire for women, Heaven forfend, does not really pay attention to the intricate embroidery and golden weave of the cloth; rather, his heart is immediately drawn to the allure of the woman who wears it. But one who is not [so mired] and whose heart is cleansed of this allure looks simply at the garment. Thus, both look at the same thing, but each sees something different. In the same way (while drawing a huge distinction between impurity and impurity in matters of holiness), when a person is constantly drawn to God, in all that he sees in the world he perceives God, Whose powers animate it and give it life, as it is written, “and You give life to all” (Nechemia 9:6). This is not the case with someone who does not constantly yearn for God in his thoughts. All that he sees is the physical world. Even though, when asked and reminded, he would say that God gives life to all, nevertheless he is not constantly occupied with this thought. Understand well the message of this metaphor, which is very similar to the situation we describe.[7]
 
A person who believes that God exists everywhere and gives life to everything strips away the “garments” of Creation and reveals God within it. Ultimately, he manages to “see” God’s presence. In contrast, there may be someone who believes in God’s immanence and even speaks about it, but he has not internalized it; he is unable to “see” God’s presence in everything.
 
It is most surprising that if we compare the metaphor and the lesson to be learned from it, the roles seem to be reversed: It is the habit and propensity of the individual who is consumed with desire to, in his mind, “strip” the woman of her garments; this expresses the more inwardly-developed and more worthy perspective, while the individual “whose heart is pure” looks at the garment in an external, objective, neutral way. This teaches us that the desire and longing for an encounter with God (which, on some level, may be compared with the desire for the woman) can arouse within us powers of imagination and abstraction, by means of which we are capable of removing the outer wrappings of our physical reality and attaining a glimpse of Divinity.
 
R. Kalonymus offers his own description of the mindfulness required of a person concerning Divine immanence:
 
The whole world and everything in it is Divine in origin and substance… Even I am full of God. The very sand under my feet is a manifestation of Divine Names. The whole world is utterly comprised of and dependent on God. Now I, of my own free will, have come to think of myself as a free and independent agent; I have exiled myself from the sense of the presence of God.
 
When you constantly think and fix in your heart and your mind the thought that the entire world is full of Divine Names, then you cannot help… but have your mind exposed to a holy perspective… You may not always carry this perspective, but you will certainly experience many fine moments of understanding.[8]
 
The “Divine Names” referred to here are the different permutations of the Hebrew letters that are the basis of all that exists, according to well-known kabbalistic teachings. We will briefly dwell on this idea, since it sheds light on what “seeing God” means for R. Kalonymus.
 
R. Kalonymus is addressing the pessimistic disciple who is reading his book but doubts his own ability to perceive the world in its Divine unity, to perceive the spiritual dimension, to see the holy Names comprising all of existence:
 
We are aware that you will still harbor doubts, even though you may want to believe what we say. You cannot quite accept the fact that you can rise to the level of a man of spirit – that you can see the underlying, sustaining patterns in reality. This kind of observation both includes and transcends normal sense perception. You will not simply know in your mind that God’s guiding presence sustains the universe. You will be able to see and perceive holiness, souls, and Divine Names.[9]
 
The problem is that we are accustomed to thinking in tangible terms:
 
This is the main challenge confronting us when we attempt to open our awareness to ideas that are not easily represented in physical forms. When we think, our mind naturally identifies images that correspond to known phenomena. We tend to not even notice a “thought” unless it corresponds to a form in some way.[10]
 
We are chained to sensory thinking and are not used to thought that is abstract and unrelated to the physical world. Thought that has no tangible expression in the physical world is dismissed by the mind as “specious,” according to R. Kalonymus: “It is denied and ignored until he becomes quite certain that such a ‘silly idea’ would never occur to him.”
 
He goes on to offer some fascinating arguments in support of this assertion.[11] One of these arguments is very similar to the wax metaphor proposed by Descartes in the 17th century. Descartes writes:
 
Let us take, for example, this piece of wax: It has been taken quite freshly from the hive, and it has not yet lost the sweetness of the honey which it contains; it still retains somewhat of the odor of the flowers from which it has been culled; its color, its figure, its size are apparent; it is hard, cold, easily handled, and if you strike it with the finger, it will emit a sound. Finally, all the things which are requisite to cause us distinctly to recognize a body are met with in it. But notice that while I speak and approach the fire, what remained of the taste is exhaled, the smell evaporates, the color alters, the figure is destroyed, the size increases, it becomes liquid, it heats, scarcely can one handle it, and when one strikes it, no sound is emitted. Does the same wax remain after this change? We must confess that it remains; none would judge otherwise. What, then, did I know so distinctly in this piece of wax? It could certainly be nothing of all that the senses brought to my notice, since all these things which fall under taste, smell, sight, touch, and hearing are found to be changed, and yet the same wax remains.[12]
 
Descartes engaged in an epistemological debate (i.e., concerning how we perceive the world around us). He argues that we must surely “know” wax (or any other object or substance) by means of our intellect, rather than our senses, since the sensory characteristics of wax are susceptible to change and thus are not integral to it, but nevertheless we identify wax as such. We “know” wax through the fact of its extension in space, and this is grasped by the intellect.
 
R. Kalonynus offers a similar intellectual exercise:
 
Take straw as an example. It is cut and composted and returned to the field. Compost enriches the soil and increases the produce; the compost works its way into the vegetation. Thus, rotted straw becomes soil, which is transformed into vegetables, which are, in turn, consumed by a person, becoming the flesh and life energy of a human being, who is in the likeness and image of the One – a cycle of straw to rot to vegetation to humanity.
 
So what are these things at their core? What actually is water? What is true straw?... Perhaps several essences coexist in each material?
 
These ideas are neither possible nor true. The true essence of a material is beyond your vision; it is not visible to the eye. What you observe are the shifting shapes and outer forms of an object…. Why does it seem strange to you that the kabbalist sees the reality and the truth? He sees the creative powers of the letters and the spiritual forces that energize physical reality.[13]
 
Thought has the power to penetrate the inner essence of things and to grasp their unchanging essence. Just as a chemist identifies the elements that comprise water (hydrogen and oxygen), a kabbalist identifies the spiritual element that underlies all of existence: Divine vitality, as expressed in the phrases “and You give life to all” and “the entire world is full of His glory.”
 
Let us take this metaphor a step further. Imagine a group of friends sitting at the top of a mountain, surrounded by the beauty of nature. One member of the group is a musician; he hears the sounds that nature produces, and he feels a melody forming inside him. Another member of the group is a chemist. He examines the natural substances around him, and his mind fills with different formulas. A third participant is a physicist, who is awed by the interplay of forces at work in nature. A fourth is a painter, who is altogether absorbed in the range of colors and hues that he sees around him. The last companion is a poet, and as he gazes at the panoramic scene he starts to string together words and phrases that express his wonder. We could go on and add further examples from different disciplines, each representative “seeing” something different in the scene. This may help us to understand the inner world of the “kabbalist chassid” (i.e., a chassid who studies kabbala), who “sees the creative powers of the letters and the spiritual forces that energize physical reality.” The map or key of the world and all its composite parts, as set forth in Zoharic kabbala, and especially in the detailed teachings of the Ari, allows him to understand the spiritual connections between the spiritual building-blocks of existence in the upper worlds and the way in which they are reflected in our reality, the lowest of all worlds. We might say that the kabbalist chassid, as described by R. Kalonymus, is someone who has developed his “spiritual intelligence” to the point that he has a sort of “super-sensory” vision. This spiritual intelligence is what R. Kalonymus refers to as prophecy, and an individual Jew who has the potential for prophetic perception is counted by him as one of the “sons of the prophets”:
 
When a person with developed awareness has moments of powerful, clear perception, he can see what the Israelite prophets saw – that we are in the palpable presence of God, be He blessed. Each sees according to his level of awareness, but even afterwards, after the moment of inspiration has passed, he can maintain the former perception and clarity… With this capacity for mindfulness and attention, he can reawaken the initial inspiration at any time.[14]
 
The development of this capacity allows a person to feel the presence of God whenever he so wishes. Unquestionably, there are differing “levels of awareness,” but with study and practice, it is possible. The perception or awareness that is described here is not sensory, but rather an inner seeing. The purpose of the imagination is to bring forth within a person this inherent ability, and once he develops it, he may merit actual visions. A person must believe that he has this ability, and he must exert himself to attain it:
 
There resides within you a way of knowing that you have never used before. With this new way of knowing, you will come to perceive this greater perspective. We are not talking about fantasies or delusions. We do not describe anything extraordinary, nothing above or beyond material reality, nothing that is visible only to highly evolved people. This vision is sure and true. Any sincere seeker can discover these things, if only he will persevere.[15]
 
Here we find the tool of imagination used together with powerful thinking, and both together facilitate the spiritual work proposed by R. Kalonymus – to see God.[16]
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 
 

[1] Bnei Machshava Tova, p. 12 (= Conscious Community, p. 12).
[2] Ibid. p. 14.
[3] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 34.
[4] In our discussion of “God, the World, and Man.”
[5] Tikkunei Zohar (Jerusalem, 5746),122b
[6] Sefer Tzava’at Ha-Ribash (Kehat ed., Brooklyn, 5758), p. 26.
[7] Yosher Divrei Emet (Avraham Yitzchak Kahn ed., Jerusalem, 5734), #12.
[8] Bnei Machshava Tova, p. 34.
[9] Ibid., p. 30 (= ibid. pp. 45-46).
[10] Ibid., p. 17 (= ibid. p. 20).
[11] Ibid., pp. 30-32 (= ibid. pp. 46-47).
[12] René Descartes, The Philosophical Works of Descartes, translated by Elizabeth S. Haldane (Cambridge University Press, 1911).
[13] Bnei Machshava Tova, p. 31 (= Conscious Community, pp. 46-47).
[14] Ibid., p. 13 (= pp. 13-14).
[15] Ibid., p. 26 (= pp. 36).
[16] R. Kalonymus’s writings provide further attention to the possibility of a person seeing God even if he is not a prophet, for example, in his interpretation of the verse, “And Israel saw the great hand … and they believed in God and in Moshe, His servant,” where he analyzes the nature of a person’s “seeing”. See Derekh Ha-Melekh, 7th day of Pesach, 5690, pp. 373-378.
 
 
 

The Problem of Corporeality

 
R. Kalonymus’s words about imagining God and the Throne of Glory bring us face to face with a problem: Does such visualization not tread into the dangerous waters of corporealization of God? R. Kalonymus is well aware of the problem, and he even notes the Rambam’s formulation of the prohibition on imagining any bodily form in relation to God.[1]
 
Without any doubt, any reference to “seeing” in R. Kalonymus’s teachings is not a reference to sensory sight, “with human eyes,” but rather a higher form of vision, seeing “with the heart.” Although this is so self-evident as to require no proof, in order to remove all doubt we will cite two examples.
 
When R. Kalonymus discusses the fundamental principles of Kabbala, he writes explicitly as follows:
 
The Written Law speaks of God using human language – referring, for example, to God’s eyes, hands, feet, etc. The prophet Yechezkel goes so far as to declare that he saw that upon the likeness of the [Heavenly] Throne he saw a likeness of a man, and the commentators explain that one must not, God forbid, understand this as meaning that the Divine holiness takes the form of physical limbs. The Torah already notes, “For you did not see any likeness…” The Torah and the prophets use such language only in order to convey the message in terms that can be understood. But on High there are in actuality no such things.[2]
 
As for the meaning of “seeing with the heart,” R. Kalonymus asserts that this is not sensory seeing. Likewise, when he discusses the question of proofs for God’s existence, he argues that the “external” proofs, such as those arising from the order of Creation and the sophistication and intricacy of Nature, are superfluous if a man looks deeply into his own soul, for he discovers that he can “see” God, and “the heart sees and knows”:
 
Certainly you have heard of or seen the books that deal with the existence of God. For those who find it hard to believe, they try to prove that there is a God. They bring their proofs from Creation itself, its inherent wisdom and almighty nature. But woe for you if you need their proofs. Have you not felt, have you not seen, how your soul is so sure it sees God? You speak to Him in second person, both in formal and informal prayer, because the truth is that your soul does see Him present, right there before you… because who needs proof beyond personal experience…[3]
 
This indicates that the “seeing of the heart” is not sensory seeing, but rather inward meditation.[4]
 
The problem arises, however, when a person seeks to create a picture of God in his mind – a picture that will necessarily include material components, such as the likeness of a man or of a throne. R. Kalonymus recounts how one of his disciples approached him with an unusual request: to permit him to imagine a corporeal form for God during prayer:
 
[He] explained it to me this way: “When I pray, I would like to be aware that I am standing in the presence of the Almighty and I am completely in His hands. I find it very moving to imagine that God enlivens the whole world. But since I am not allowed to envision any image in prayer, I only have this idea. The idea alone, with no mental associations, has no resonance or power to motivate me to a higher awareness. Sometimes, a moment of inspiration will descend on me from above, but I cannot create it for myself. I cannot even sustain it by my own efforts.”[5]
 
The difficulty is acute, for a person is a bodily creature, and any task that he tries to undertake seriously requires some focus. If he is talking to his friend, then he will focus on the sight of his friend or the sound of his voice. If he is talking to his friend and doing something else at the same time – reading a book, for example – then his friend will likely notice his lack of concentration. In terms of our discussion, who do we stand before in prayer? Who are we addressing? So long as the Temple stood, Jews would turn their faces and their hearts towards the Temple, and specifically to the Holy of Holies. Since the Destruction, Halakha determines that we face eastward. In a synagogue, one turns towards the Holy Ark. R. Yosef Karo rules in the Shulchan Arukh that a worshipper must imagine himself standing in the Temple and should direct his heart heavenward:
 
He should lower his head slightly, so that his eyes face downward, towards the ground, and he should think of himself as standing in the Temple, and in his heart he should aim heavenward.[6]
 
Apparently, none of this satisfied the disciple who appealed to R. Kalonymus, feeling that he needed something more tangible.
 
Quite surprisingly, R. Kalonymus permits him to do as he wishes, relying on the opinion of Ra’avad, who disagreed with the Rambam with regard to the principle of God’s corporeality.[7] Raavad did not think that someone who imagined God in some bodily form should be called a heretic. According to R. Kalonymus’s interpretation, what Raavad meant was that while God is unquestionably incorporeal, if someone has a need to visualize some sort of image – for example, the Divine Throne or the host of heavenly angels – in order to be able to direct his prayer properly, then this is acceptable, so long as it remains within the realm of thought and is not realized in the form of a graven image or picture:
 
We need a material image to help us reach toward ideas that are lofty and transcendent. With the help of God, we will eventually expand our minds to the point that we can comprehend imageless thought… Since you have such a pressing need to imagine an almost physical image, relying on the Raavad… In a single, powerful moment, you can remove the veil that blankets your perception of reality. You will see, in an unmistakable, unshakable flash, that you are standing in your place in the great chain of creation, among a huge camp of angels and holy beings. You yourself are one of them.[8]
 
It is interesting in this context to compare an excerpt from the writings of R. Kook, who also notes the view of the Raavad and rules in a similar manner that as long as the corporealization is not garbed in material form – i.e., a statue or picture – it does not represent rejection of the principles of Jewish faith:
 
Even though misunderstanding of concepts relating to the Divine is extremely detrimental, the main harm that arises from distorted perceptions is not actualized to the point that causes the spiritual death of those who maintain them, until such perceptions are realized in action – or, at least, until they are embodied in thoughts and actions that will necessarily become manifest in action. But so long as these perceptions remain in abstract form, they do not constitute an essential uprooting [of faith]. In this matter, our position is close to that of Raavad, who disagreed with the Rambam’s designation of anyone who believed in a corporeal existence for God as a heretic. We would agree [with Raavad] that so long as a person who holds such an image in his mind creates no picture or graven image, he has not taken the thought to its completion, and it still remains within the realm of the mind, such that it cannot be considered heresy and a rejection of religious belief.[9]
 
What is it that prompts R. Kook to address this question? Why does he adopt a more lenient approach than does the Rambam? We may surmise that R. Kook is responding here to dilemmas similar to the one raised by R. Kalonymus. Nevertheless, even after he shows himself to be inclined in the direction of Raavad, R. Kook still considers the idea of God’s corporeality to be a “misunderstanding of concepts relating to the Divine” and “extremely detrimental.” It would therefore seem that R. Kook would not have been as accepting as R. Kalonymus was of one of his disciples imagining God.
 
Returning to R. Kalonymus – not only did he permit the student in question to visualize the Throne of Glory, but he extends this permission to the readers of his book who face a similar difficulty:
 
Now, dear friend, since your need is so pressing, imagine in your mind that you stand before Him, be He blessed. As a son comes to his father, so you come to God: “Father, have mercy on me. It is painful to realize just how far we are from our souls, how desperate our plight is! You have sent me here, and I cannot find You.” Unless you are made of stone, this image will soften you. You will stand like a burning flame in the presence of God, begging for yourself, your family, and your fellow Jews.[10]
 
Initially, an artificial image will form in the mind – and there is benefit in that. However, at a later stage, following practice, one’s thought is no longer influenced by the senses and is cleansed of all forms and images:
 
All the advice we have given already provides the gradual steps to our true goal. We intend to transcend imaginative thought altogether. We wish to reach our core perception – a consciousness so profound and truthful that we see God in everything. At this level, the senses to do dominate your attention; they do not summon he mind to follow their meandering impressions… At the level of pure mindfulness, perception is not carried in images and pictures….[11]
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 
 

[1] Benei Machshava Tova, p. 14 (= Conscious Community, p. 16). The issue of God’s incorporeality is not at all a simple matter, since both in Tanakh and in many of Chazal’s teachings we find anthropomorphic descriptions (for instance, references to God’s outstretched hand, to His eyes, etc.). Many centuries ago there were profoundly religious Jews who understood these descriptions literally – although, of course, many others, including the Rambam, were vehemently opposed to any such interpretation. The very fact that the Rambam waged all-out war against corporealizing God and taught in his books how anthropomorphic teachings in the various biblical verses and midrashim should be understood indicates the prevalence of such perceptions. The same impression arises from his famous “Letter on the Resurrection of the Dead,” in which the Rambam describes a Talmudic sage who has in his mind a humanized image of God (see Iggrot Ha-Rambam [Y. Shilat ed., Jerusalem, 5747], vol. I, p. 341). This subject is addressed extensively by Yair Lorberbaum, who offers a comprehensive review of the relevant sources and studies in Tzelem Elokim: Halakha Ve-Aggada (Jerusalem, 5764), pp. 27-101. For more on the many rabbinical figures of Ashkenaz who maintained a literal interpretation of the anthropomorphic descriptions of God, see ibid. p. 31, f. 18. E. Wolfson, Through a Speculum that Shines: Vision and Imagination in Medieval Jewish Mysticism (Princeton, NJ, 1994), pp. 3-4. notes that Jewish mysticism is characterized by the tension between the perception that God has no physical existence and cannot be seen, on the one hand, and the visionary experience in which one “sees” figures that belong to the Divine world, on the other.
[2] Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 230.
[3] Tzav Ve-Ziruz, p. 333 (= To Heal the Soul, pp. 33-34).
[4] For more on the “seeing of the heart,” see A.J. Heschel, God in Search of Man.
[5] Benei Machshava Tova, p. 18 (= Conscious Community, p. 22).
[7] Raavad presents his view on the subject in his gloss on the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuva 3:7. For more on Raavad’s approach, see Z. Harvey, “She’elat i-Gashmiyut Ha-El Etzel Rambam, Raavad, Crescas Ve-Spinoza,” in SO Heller-Wilensky and M. Idel (ed.s), Mechkarim Ve-Hagut Yehudit (Jerusalem, 5749), pp. 63-78. According to Harvey, Raavad’s criticism of the Rambam should not mislead us into thinking that Raavad himself believed that God was in any way corporeal. He had no objection to the Rambam’s assertion that God’s incorporeality is a metaphysical conclusion arising logically from belief in God’s Unity. What he did object to – vehemently – was the Rambam’s halakhic ruling that anyone who denied this conclusion was a heretic. In other words, he believed that to be a good Jew, one does not have to be a philosopher (ibid., p. 70).
[8] Benei Machshava Tova, p. 25.
[9] R. Avraham Yitzchak Ha-Kohen Kook, Shemona Kevatzim (Jerusalem, 5764), kovetz 1, 30-31.
[10] Benei Machshava Tova, p. 20 (= Conscious Community, p. 24).
[11] Ibid., p. 25 (= Conscious Community, p. 35).
 
 

Seeing God and Prophetic Kabbala

 
The “prophetic kabbala” taught by R. Avraham Abulafia (1240-1292?) aspires, as its name suggests, to bring a person to the level of prophecy. This is a central stream of kabbala, and it had a significant impact on Chassidic philosophy over the generations, too.[1] R. Abulafia’s approach is based on the “kabbala of Names”: combinations of letters comprising Divine Names, and entails pronunciation of the names, methods of breathing, bodily movements, and music, leading the kabbalist to a state of ecstasy and devekut and – ultimately – an experience of prophecy.
 
It is easy to identify the similarity between R. Kalonymus and the tradition of prophetic kabbala if we compare what R. Kalonymus writes about seeing God with an excerpt from the writings of R. Yehuda Albotini, who was among the conveyors of the prophetic kabbala tradition founded by R. Abulafia. In this excerpt he guides the reader through one of the stages of the process that leads one to experience ruach ha-kodesh. An examination of the two fragments side by side serves to highlight the similarity between them:
 
R. Kalonymus
R. Yehuda Albotini
“As he prays, let him imagine that he is standing before the blessed God, and before His Throne of Glory…[2] Suddenly you will see yourself standing before His Holy Presence, among a huge camp of angels and holy beings; you yourself are one of them.”[3]
“… He should prepare his true thoughts to imagine, in his heart and his mind, hat he is sitting on High, in heaven, before the Holy One, blessed be He, and in the midst of the radiance and glow and majesty of His Presence. And you see, as it were, the Holy One, blessed be He, sitting like a king, imposing and elevated, with the entire host of the heavens, and angels and keruvim and beings of holy spiritual energy all standing before Him in awe and fear and trembling…”[4]
 
A similar image is also to be found in R. Avraham Abulafia’s work, Chaye Olam ha-Ba:
 
“Prepare your true thoughts to imagine the blessed God, and with Him His angels on high, and imagine them in your heart as though they were people standing, or sitting, around you, and you are among them, as though their spokesman….”[5]
 
R. Kalonymus, unlike the kabbalists, does not regard the visualization of the world of Beria (the Throne of Glory and the angels) as a privilege reserved for a select few individuals. He describes and recommends the experience even when he addresses young students. His advice is meant for the youngster at prayer, to give him a feeling of God’s closeness. The fervor required in prayer can be attained only if one senses that closeness of the Divine. The verse that became a Chassidic maxim – “the entire world is full of His glory”- must become a tangible experience. And that experience may be attained both through visualization of the supernal worlds and the figures that populate them (such as the angels), and through powerful thought – which, in this context, means internal conviction of Divine immanence. In his Chovat ha-Talmidim, aimed at young students, R. Kalonymus writes:
 
“You must think about how God’s glory fills the whole universe, and how you yourself exist within Him and His holiness, even though you cannot see Him. More than a single thought is necessary. The more you reflect on these matters of faith, over and over again, constantly, the easier it will become to stimulate your soul to speak to God – Who faces you at all times.
 
It may still be difficult for you to imagine that you are standing before God… Look then toward the sky and contemplate; focus your mind and think: I exist on this side, while on the other side of the heavens, there is another world, completely different from this one. There are angels there, and seraphim, the souls of the patriarchs and of the prophets and tzaddikim. The Throne of Glory is suspended in their midst, and God, great, holy and awesome, is present on the throne… Strengthen yourself, look, and think some more. ‘I stand on this side of the Divine, and I say, ‘Blessed are You, O Lord’ – it is You, Lord, the one toward Whom I lift my eyes, whether I see You or not; it is You that I bless. I shut my eyes and look at You, and bless You and speak to You.’”[6]
 
The main conclusion that we may draw from this comparison is that certain aspects of prophetic kabbala – a realm restricted to select individuals – became, in R. Kalonymus’s teachings, part of the guidance for the masses. While R. Kalonymus does not deal with the complex techniques of prophetic prophecy, his aim is still to prepare and train people for prophecy. Once again, we note R. Kalonymus’s aspiration to train not only mature and learned adults, but even children. His aim of preparing “children of prophets” entailed starting training at a young age.
 
“Clearly, not in riddles”
 
The distinction that R. Kalonymus draws between “seeing” and “riddles” serves to clarify the way in which he understands the concept of “seeing God.”
 
In one of his sermons on parashat Beha’alotekha, R. Kalonymus talks about prophetic perception, noting a question that arises from a comparison of different verses in Tanakh. Concerning Moshe, we read that God tells him, “… and you shall see the back of Me, but My face shall not be seen” (Shemot 33:23). The prophet Yishayahu, in contrast, says, “…and I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and elevated…” (Yishayahu 6:1). The Torah itself testifies that “there has arisen in Israel no prophet like Moshe, whom the Lord knew face to face” (Devarim 34:10), it is impossible that Yishayahu – or any other prophet – could have experienced prophetic perception on a level higher than that of Moshe. Therefore, Chazal draw a distinction between the quality of Moshe’s prophecy and that of the other prophets: “All the prophets saw [as] through a cloudy glass, while Moshe Rabbenu saw [as] through a clear glass” (Yevamot 49b). In other words, Moshe experienced direct, clear, and intelligible prophecy, while the other prophets experienced prophecy through riddles, such as the boiling pot and the almond branch described by Yirmiyahu (chapter 1) and the golden menorah described by Zekharia (chapter 4). God Himself says of Moshe, “I speak with him mouth to mouth, manifestly, and not in riddles…” (Bamidbar 12:8).
 
R. Kalonymus asserts that even today, people have the ability to see “[as] through a clear glass”, just as there are those who see “as through a glass that is not clear” (or “riddles”), since, as the Zohar teaches, “the impact of Moshe lasts in every generation.”
 
“Thus, one who sees the world as a physical, material entity, and who perceives God’s greatness and wisdom only after contemplation, understanding the greatness of God’s work through hints and thereby arriving at knowledge of God and being aware of Him – this may be compared to seeing at the level of riddles, which he must solve.
 
But this is not the case for someone who perceives the ‘perfect, pleasing Radiance of the world’ within the world; he perceives God directly, and not through riddles. And it is not only great tzaddikim who are capable of perceiving the light of God within every detail of the world. Rather, every individual, on his own level, is capable of this.”[7]
 
There are two types of seeing. The first is based on awe and wonder at the wisdom of Nature, leading the observer to a realization of God’s work and to knowledge of Him. There is, however, another level: a person who perceives the ‘perfect, pleasing Radiance of the world’ (as God is described by R. Elazar Azkari in his liturgical poem, Yedid Nefesh)[8] experiences a direct, unmediated encounter with the essence of the world, through mystical seeing:
 
“There are times when [such a person] distances himself from this world, and his mind is immersed in holiness Then, when he observes the world – the trees, the grass, the sky, the stars – his soul stirs and he sees something of the illumination of the ‘perfect, pleasing Radiance of the world.’”[9]
 
Each of these types of encounters with God has its advantages and disadvantages. The first type is based on intellectual observation; its advantage is that it allows for development through kabbalistic study, but its weakness is that it is sometimes emotionally sterile. A person can study kabbala mechanically, without ever reaching the essence and without ever feeling anything. Unmediated perception, on the other hand, brings a greater measure of fear and love of God, for there is a direct link between that which is perceived and the person’s inner consciousness. The disadvantage here is that there is no possibility of achieving a vision that is beyond one’s level, as is the case with intellectual perception based on study. Nevertheless, it remains possible that if this person elevates his spiritual service, he will “see more”:
 
“Seemingly, there is an advantage to seeing solely by means of the intellect, for one is able to ascend higher: first he takes not of the world that God has created and that He guides; then he studies the holy texts [kabbala] in order to know its roots – the holy names and the hints conveyed by each element, retracing their process of unfolding all the way back to the world of ‘atzilut.’ One who observes the essence itself, on the other hand, sees little. The reason for this is that one who perceives either the hints in this world or the realities of the upper worlds via his intellect, is not seeing the essence of the light; rather, he is seeing the fact that there is light, and that there is a world of yetzira, of beria, and of atzilut… and that one is the source of the next, developing and unfolding. Such a person may be far removed from any personal connection to all this, and this [may be compared to] a glass that is not clear, riddles, and hints. Therefore, he sees more of what we might call the ‘face.’
 
The situation is different when it comes to actual ‘seeing,’ where one’s soul perceives God’s radiance in everything that exists in the world, leading him to greater love and fear of Him, in accordance with his own level… As he ascends higher, is able to see more, and this may be called a ‘clear glass,’ embodying the principle of ‘I have placed God before me always,’ which exists in every person.”[10]
 
R. Kalonymus concludes by saying that his sermon on the parasha of Beha’alotekha, teaching about the prophecy of Moshe and the other prophets, is aimed at clarifying the Divine service required of us. Indeed, as we have seen above, R. Kalonymus sought to make such perception of God practically accessible to every Jew willing to invest spiritual effort.
 
R. Hillel Zeitlin, a Polish chassidic kabbalist and philosopher who was a contemporary of R. Kalonymus, wrote:
 
“People think that revelation is something reserved for singular, extraordinary human beings – the most select of the select. This mistake, which is common to almost all of those with superficial faith, originates in a misunderstanding of the true essence of revelation. Its effect on faith is almost as dangerous as that of faith’s enemy – heresy. Because of this mistake, people become accustomed to distancing Divinity from man – which means simultaneously distancing man from Divinity.”[11]
 
Both R. Hillel Zeitlin and R. Kalonymus seek to bring man closer to the Divine, and to bring God closer to man. Both were killed during the Holocaust in Poland, both clinging to a burning faith that even within the greatest concealment, God’s face can be seen by those who seek Him.
 
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 

[1] M. Idel, Ha-Chavaya ha-Mistit Etzel Avraham Abulafia, Jerusalem 5762. Idel’s book discusses R. Avraham Abulafia’s teachings and his method for achieving prophecy. For more on prophetic kabbala and chassidut, see ibid. pp. 173-174, as well as M. Idel, Ha-Chassidut Bein Ekstaza le-Magia, Jerusalem-Tel Aviv 5761, pp. 98-121.
[2] Benei Machshava Tova, p. 19
[3] Ibid., p. 25.
[4] R. Yehuda Albotini, Sefer Sulam ha-Aliya, Y.A. Porush edition, Jerusalem 5749, p. 73.
[5] 108. Quoted by M. Idel, Ha-Chavaya ha-Mistit Etzel Avraham Abulafia, Jerusalem 5762, p. 33.
[6] Chovat ha-Talmidim, pp. 86-87 (= A Student’s Obligation, p. 72)
[7] Derekh ha-Melekh, p. 155
[8] R. Elazar Azkari, Sefer Charedim, Jerusalem, 5769, chapter 34
[9] Derekh ha-Melekh, p. 140
[10] Ibid.
[11] H. Zeitlin, Al Gevul Shenei Olamot, Tel Aviv 5736, p. 36
 
 
 

Educating Young and Old

 
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Dedicated in memory of Israel Koschitzky z"l, whose yahrzeit falls on the 19th of Kislev. 
May the world-wide dissemination of Torah through the VBM be a fitting tribute to a man whose lifetime achievements exemplified the love of Eretz Yisrael and Torat Yisrael.
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As a rule, education is effective – if not completely effective, then still highly effective. Even if a youngster is deficient, when he is educated in a good direction, he improves, and likewise the opposite… (Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 461)
 
R. Kalonymus devoted his life to education and spiritual influence on his chassidim. His mantra was that “[Divine] service is the beginning and the essence of Judaism and of Chassidism,”[1] and indeed, most of his writings emphasize the ways of Chassidic inward service of God. His surviving works paint a picture of a superb educator. At the beginning of his Chovat Ha-Talmidim, aimed at young readers, he writes:
 
The purpose of this work is to penetrate into the depths of the student, to reveal his soul, to train him in Torah, Divine service, the ways of Chassidut, and to bind the soul to God. It also contains injunctions and warnings as to how to conduct one’s thought, speech, and deed.[2]
 
But R. Kalonymus was not satisfied with educating only young children. He sought to educate adults as well. He wrote another book entitled Hakhsharat ha-Avrekhim aimed, as its name suggests, at young adults and guiding them in the paths of chassidut. His book Benei Machshava Tova sought to provide spiritual guidance to a special group of chassidim that R. Kalonymus gathered and nurtured.
 
R. Kalonymus’s approach is based on the quest to inculcate Chassidic values in his students, young and old. The uniqueness of his writings lies in their eminent practicality, providing step-by-step instruction as to the implementation of his teachings. R. Hillel Zeitlin described R. Kalonymus’s approach as follows:
 
There is a great innovation in his [R. Kalonymus’s] teaching of chassidut: He introduced order and method and provided an introduction on the basis of psychology and both theoretical and practical pedagogics, and he also garbed it in unique poetic form...[3]
 
Defining Education and its Goal
 
R. Kalonymus’s book Chovat Ha-Talmidim, published in Warsaw in 1932, had a great impact both amongst the Chassidic community and in the yeshiva world – Chassidic and Lithuanian yeshivot alike. Many study groups were dedicated to this work, focusing on educating and strengthening Jewish youth to overcome the difficulties that characterize adolescence and to grow spiritually: “R. Kalonymus once said that when he sat down to work on Chovat Ha-Talmidim, he would not begin to write until he had the image of a young student fixed in his mind, as if he were standing in front of him.”[4] Indeed, the book addresses the youngster in direct language and with a profound familiarity with his world – a principle that underlies all of R. Kalonymus’s educational work. The book is introduced by a “Discussion with Teachers and Parents,” in which he sets forth his educational approach. Here we shall address the main points in this important introduction, in which R. Kalonymus defines the purpose of his book and, as we shall see, the aim of his educational philosophy in general:
 
Our goal here is not to teach the craft of pedagogy – how to utilize the student’s mind in various ways, how to broaden his understanding and knowledge of the meaning of the Torah. For what we are seeking now is not the student’s intellect alone; we are interested in the whole student. We wish to connect the Nefesh, Ruach, and Neshama of Jewish children to the God of Israel, so that they will emerge as Jews who revere the word of the Lord and direct all their desires toward Him.[5]
 
The first question that should interest anyone who occupies himself with education is: What is education? The etymology of the word “chinukh” and its meaning point to its essence.[6] Many definitions have been offered for the term “chinukh,” each reflecting a different view of its purpose. R. Kook writes that “the purpose of chinukh is to train a person for his ideal form.”[7] Tzvi Adar, another scholar of education, wrote that education is “deliberate action that seeks to change the student’s being, towards the realization of a predetermined purpose.” Some scholars have defined education as a process intended to prepare students for the life ahead of them, without constraining their life in the present beyond the minimum necessary (Akiva Ernest Simon). A different view maintains that education is the transmission of the values of the older generation to the younger generation (Yechezkel Kaufman). Of course, many other definitions have been offered, influenced by different philosophical perceptions of man’s essence and his purpose in the world.[8]
 
R. Kalonymus’s definition of “chinukh,” when referring to the education of children, is:
 
… stimulating the growth and development of what each child is suited for by his very nature. This quality or potential may be found in him only in very small measure, in total hiddenness, [and] the task of the educator is to uncover it. Since a Jewish child has the spirit of God, the breath of the Lord, hidden and concealed within him from the very moment of his birth, it is necessary to raise him and educate him to bring out and reveal this godliness and allow it to flourish. If this is done, the child will grow into a faithful Jew, a servant of God. He will have an independent desire for Torah and will not stray as he gets older…[9]
 
The assumption from which R. Kalonymus proceeds is that the child is good by nature, the requisite qualities exist within him, and there is no need to inculcate characteristics that are foreign to him.[10] The soul is divine, and the educator’s goal is to reveal it. The use of the expression “allow it to flourish” reflects R. Kalonymus’s view that “a teacher is a gardener in the garden of God, assigned to cultivate it and guard it from harm.”[11] Just as all of a plant’s qualities exist already within its seeds and all that they require is the proper growing conditions, so it is with man: All he needs is the opportunity to realize his spiritual potential.
 
R. Kalonymus bases his definition on the principle set down by King Shelomo:
 
Educate a youth in accordance with his way, and even when he is old he will not depart from it. (Mishlei 22:6)
 
If the educator succeeds in penetrating the child’s world and revealing the holy Jewish spark residing within him, then even when the child grows up and lives his own independent life, he will follow the path of Torah and mitzvot and will not abandon them.
 
There is an educational approach that takes the form of “training.” For example, if a student is disturbing the class during a lesson, the teaching may say, “If you behave nicely, you’ll get a reward; if you keep disturbing, you’ll be punished.” There is an approach that is based on habituation: making the student accustomed to waking up on time to pray in the morning, placing a coin in the charity box each day, or fulfilling commands: “Do this, do that.” R. Kalonymus does not rule out the use of such methods, and they certainly have their place as tools, but they cannot be the main thrust of education:
 
To truly educate is not just a matter of getting a child to follow your commands, or even of accustoming a child to do good deeds. True education is a much greater and more galvanizing process. Commanding and habituating children to a certain way of life are merely tools that must be used when educating them in the path of God…
 
Someone who is trying to educate through command and habituation need not pay attention to his child or student – to his nature, to the way he thinks, or to his other distinguishing characteristics. The command itself – do this or do that – is all that is needed. Nor is it necessary to deal with each student separately. A single command can suffice for an entire age group…[12]
 
Education demands special effort by the educator. It requires him to relate to each child individually. It is easier to instruct the entire class – like a military commander – to perform some action; it is far more difficult to tailor the instruction to each child, in accordance with his essence. But that is what a Jewish educator must do.
 
Addressing Oneself to the Student’s Level
 
An educator must come down from his perch to the level of the child or youth. Of course, this descent is metaphorical; it means getting to know the child’s nature, his abilities, his qualities, and his conceptual world, and addressing him “eye to eye” (rather than talking down to him) with sensitivity and love. R. Kalonymus was apparently familiar with educators who were not sufficiently committed to this approach:
 
It is up to us to bring our minds down toward him, toward his personality, in order to be able to grasp hold of him and influence him toward holiness before he is transformed into our enemy. Moshe, our teacher, the prophets, and all the tzaddikim similarly adapted themselves, descending from their high spiritual levels to concern themselves with even our physical needs. Would we not be sinning were we to abandon these children without adapting ourselves to each and every child, in order to educate them according to their own path while they are still at the critical point when it will be determined whether they become faithful servants of God or, God forbid, sinners? We must adapt ourselves and speak their language, practically turning ourselves into children in order to speak to them according to the way they think and the level they are on.[13]
 
The idea of the educator bringing himself down into the child’s world has its source in the Chassidic principle of the “descent of the tzaddik.” One of the distinguishing characteristics of the Chassidic leadership in comparison to the Rabbinate in Eastern Europe was its emergence from the ivory tower of Torah study in order to become involved in the lives of ordinary Jews, taking care of their physical needs and, as an outgrowth of this activity, also tending to their spiritual needs. R. Elimelekh writes that in order to influence another person, one first has to know what he needs:
 
The tzaddik brings all three of these [gifts] to Israel: progeny, good health, and sustenance. But when he seeks to bring this goodness, the tzaddik has to come down slightly from his cleaving [to God] and incline himself to observe what people need.[14]
 
A great Jewish leader does not sit all day in the beit midrash studying Torah. He must go about among people and speak their language – for this serves to bring them closer to their Father in heaven.
 
R. Yaakov Yosef, a disciple of the Ba’al Shem Tov, emphasized the importance of the tzaddik’s involvement with people, along with the simultaneous need to remain cleaving to God, since any descent to the masses poses a risk to his spiritual level:
 
This explains the verse, “These are the generations of Noach.” Noach [in Hebrew, literally “amenable”] was agreeable to the [dwellers of the] upper [worlds] and agreeable to the [dwellers of the] lower world – meaning that he was not separate and aloof from the rest of the people, but rather mingled with them, and this leads to fraternal love… And in case you might think that his mingling with people distracted him from focusing his thoughts on God at that time, the Torah goes on to state that “he was a perfect tzaddik in his generation” – [meaning that] even when he went about in the town, among the people of his generation, he remained a tzaddik, observing [the principle], “I have placed the Lord before me at all times” – which is an important concept in the elevation of the tzaddikim, as R. Moshe Isserles writes (Orach Chaim 1). And thus, “Noach walked with God” – he would first meditate in order to connect himself and bind himself to God, before going out into the midst of the town… And therefore even when later on he was involved with people, he did not break with his cleaving to Him. Understand this.[15]
 
This approach is also reflected in the sphere of education, as illustrated in the following teaching of the Maggid R. Dov Ber of Mezeritch:
 
When a teacher wishes to convey to his student his broad insight, but the student is unable to receive it, then the teacher compresses his insight into words and letters… and thereby becomes able to receive the broad insight of the teacher.[16]
 
An educator cannot remain distant from his student and expect him to receive Torah from him. He must constrict his intellect in order that the student will be able to understand him. This principle of constriction originates with God, Who, according to kabbalistic tradition constricted Himself in order to create the world,[17] constricted His wisdom into the Torah, and also “brought down” His Divine Presence into this lowliest of worlds to dwell amongst Am Yisrael.[18] From this we can deduce that R. Kalonymus’s educational approach is deeply rooted in the teachings of Kabbala and Chassidism.
 
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 

[1] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 184.
[2] From the title page of the original Hebrew edition (= A Student’s Obligation, p. xlvi).
[3] H. Zeitlin, “Admor – Oman Pedagogi,” in H. Zeitlin, Sifran shel Yechidim (Jerusalem, 5740), p. 242.
[4] As noted in Sorasky’s biography of R. Kalonymus in Chovat Ha-Talmidim (Tel Aviv, 5752), p. 282 (= A Student’s Obligation, p. xxxv).
[5] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, pp. 9-10 (= A Student’s Obligation, p. 6).
[6] Our intention here is not to discuss the semantic meaning of the term, since many different interpretations have been offered. However, it is worth noting that R. Kalonymus bases his thesis on Rashi’s interpretation of the word “chinukh” as connoting a “beginning”; see Rashi, Bereishit 14:14; Devarim 20:5.
[7] R. Avraham Yitzchak Ha-Kohen Kook, Iggerot RAY”H (Jerusalem, 5722), iggeret 107.
[8] See s.v. “Chinukh” in Encyclopedia Ivrit, pp. 617-618; Encyclopedia Chinukhit, Jerusalem 5724. The scholars referred to above are discussed in these sources.
[9] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, p. viii (= A Student’s Obligation, pp. 4-5).
[10] This view stands in contrast to two mutually contradictory approaches: One agrees that man does have an inborn nature, but it is essentially sinful and evil. Such a view characterizes Christianity, with its concept of Original Sin, according to which sin is instinctive, man is corrupt, and he will ultimately end up in Hell (Encyclopedia Chinukhit, part IV, p. 303). On the other hand, R. Kalonymus’s approach is also a contrast to the view that man is born as a tabula rasa with no inborn qualities and all is acquired through experience. This view was propounded, for example, by the 17th century English philosopher John Locke in An Essay Concerning Human Understanding: “Let us supposed the mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all characters without any ideas; how comes it to be furnished? Whence come I by that vast store, which the busy and boundless fancy of man has painted on it with an almost endless variety? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowledge? To this I answer, in one word, from experience.” Many scholars have been profoundly influenced by Locke – for instance, John Watson, the 20th century father of behaviorist psychology, who believed that any infant could be molded “to order.” However, in light of modern science, the tabula rasa theory has been called into question. See S. Pinker, Ha-Luach He-Chalak: Al Hakchashat Tiv’o Ha-Molad shel Ha-Adam Be-Yamenu (Tel Aviv, 5765).
[11] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, p. x (= A Student’s Obligation, p. 6).
[12] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, pp. vii-ix (= A Student’s Obligation, pp. 3-5).
[13] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, p. 19 (= A Student’s Obligation, pp. 14-15).
[14] R. Eliezer of Lizhensk, No’am Elimelekh (Jerusalem, 5752), Parashat Vayera.
[15] R. Yaakov Yosef of Polnoe, Ben Porat Yosef (Warsaw, 5643), Noach 16d-17a.
[16] R. Dov Ber of Mezeritch, Maggid Devarav Le-Yaakov (Brooklyn, 5732), p. 33.
[17] For the concept of constriction (“tzimtzum”) in the teachings of the Ari, see R. Chaim Vital, Etz Chaim (Jerusalem, 5670), Sha’ar 1, anaf b.
[18] “R. Shemuel bar Nachman said: When the Holy One, blessed be He, created the world, He desired that there be a dwelling place for Him in the lower world, just as there is in the upper world… The Holy One descended from the seventh firmament to the sixth. Yitzchak was ready; he exposed his throat upon the altar – and God descended from the sixth firmament to the fifth... Moshe was ready, and He brought it down to earth, as it is written (Shemot 19), ‘And the Lord descended upon Sinai”, and it is written (Shir Ha-Shirim 5), ‘I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride’ – when? When the Mishkan was built.” (Tanchuma, Naso 16).
 
 
 

Educating the Young

 
Motivating the Younger Generation
 
In our generation, education can no longer be achieved through coercion, as it was in the past. As noted previously, one of the reasons that R. Kalonymus lists for the educational and religious crisis of our times is the early maturation of the youth, who have a sense of independence and resist the authority of the older generation. In light of this reality, R. Kalonymus argues that the responsibility must be transferred to the youth themselves. They must internalize the idea that all the educational activity that happens around them is meant for their sake and for their benefit. Their responsibility is to educate themselves, to grow in Torah, and to make Torah and Divine service their life’s focus and mission, rather than being passive or antagonistic. They must understand that their parents, rabbis, and teachers are there to help them in this quest, but it is not for their sake that they must study:
 
It is not sufficient to simply teach the child that it is his duty to listen to his teachers and that’s all, for this alone will not have any effect. In the end he will see his teacher as an opponent, a foreign despot… The child must be told over and over again and made to understand the duty that he carries: to raise and educate himself as a Jew, a tree in the garden of God, in Eden. His father and teacher are there only to instruct him as to how to do this, how he is to educate himself and to know what God has spoken… It is his own duty; and it is he himself, with his own sense of independence and self-esteem, which have developed so quickly, who must rule and educate himself.[1]
 
In addition to dissipating the resistance to the guidance of parents and teachers and causing the youth to assume responsibility for his own education, R. Kalonymus also points out another advantage to this approach: Youth who have become alienated from the path of Torah will be drawn closer:
 
It is a principle of the human spirit that when a person has someone else to rely on, he allows himself to be neglectful and depend on the other person. The same is true of young people… they become neglectful because they think their father or teacher is going to do everything for them. However, when they come to realize that it is all their duty, and that they are their own guide and educator, they will exert themselves and cease to be neglectful.[2]
 
The youth must accept the help and support of his parents and teachers until “the flame rises and burns on its own” – i.e., until he is committed and motivated himself to serve God.
 
R. Kalonymus conveys the same message in his direct appeal to the youth:
 
As we have already emphasized, you yourself must be, to a very great extent, your own teacher…[3]
 
Children, your responsibility is great, greater than you know. You must raise up and establish the whole house of Israel. From among you must emerge tzaddikim and righteous people, sages and leaders. Even the process of revealing God’s presence in the world and bringing close the coming the Messiah has been placed in your hands…[4]
 
If you rely on your friends, and assume that they will provide Israel with great leaders and sages, you will find that they in turn will have relied on you. What will then become of Israel, the holy people? What will become of the Shechina, God’s presence on earth? Each and every Jewish young person who learns Torah and seeks God has a duty: to discover and reveal from within himself the inner soul of Israel. You must make of yourself a pillar that will support the house of Israel. Not a single one of you may excuse yourself from this great responsibility.[5]
 
The younger Jewish generation must be encouraged and motivated, and inculcated with an awareness of the importance of its exertion and efforts, far beyond the matter of grades and report cards.
 
Education out of Joy, Love, and a Positive Approach
 
A person must study with joy and love. Chazal teach that it is proper to start a study session with “a word of humor” (Shabbat 30b), the goal being to bring the students to a state of joy, for the Divine Presence resides only where there is joy. Today, with the prevalent alienation between teachers and students, it is particularly important to teach with joy, exerting efforts to draw the heart of the student:
 
In order to heal the wound of alienation that has come between the student and his teacher, the teacher must make an effort to capture the student’s heart and to re-create the closeness that has been lost. Joy is one of the fundamental means through which young hearts can be captured; children and young people have no toleration for sadness. Their teacher must not appear to them to be an angry or contentious person.[6]
 
This in no way entails sacrificing the teacher’s status or dignity, for if these are lost then the students will have no respect for him. Rather, he must aim to be for them “an elevated person – but also pleasant and good.” The students’ respect for him should flow from their perception of his character, not out of fear of his anger or violence. If the teacher draws the heart of his student with joy and love, then even when he is forced to rebuke him, the student will not hate him, but will continue to feel love and respect.
 
Education must be undertaken with an emphasis on the positive aspects of the child. Even when the educator is forced to rebuke him, he should do so by strengthening the child’s self-image. He should tell him, “You’re a smart kid; why would you do such a thing?” R. Kalonymus cites the Shelah as the source of this idea:
 
“You shall surely rebuke and shall not bear sin on his account” – meaning, you should say to him, “You are a good person; why would you do such a thing?” This is a positive interpretation of the directive, “Do not rebuke a fool lest he hate you” (Mishlei 9:8): [Reprove by] telling him [not that he is fool, but rather] that he is wise, and then he will love you and listen to what you say.[7]
 
In this way, the student will not be “put off” by hearing his teachers’ guidance, since he will be accustomed to receiving positive feedback and encouragement along with any admonishments that they offer. The educator must always seek to reinforce the students’ positive qualities and to find points for praise. Of course, the teacher must use his discretion and not overdo such praise, lest the student become arrogant and conceited.[8]
 
R. Kalonymus directs himself not only to the rabbi or teacher, but also to the students themselves. In Chovat Ha-Talmidim, his positive reinforcement and encouragement of his young readers is evident throughout. The following are just a few examples:
 
Child of Israel, you are fortunate and blessed. You have merited to study Torah, which shines with divine radiance. You are God’s delight… You too should be filled with joy and exultation at your great good fortune. You are like someone privileged to be in the intimate circle of the King…
 
If you are discouraged because your immediate ancestry is undistinguished, lift yourself up and gaze beyond, deeper into your past. You are descended from holy men and women, from prophets, from the sages of the Mishna and Talmud, from great rabbinic masters and tzaddikim. The Talmud states (Pesachim 66a) that the people of Israel, if they are not prophets themselves, are at least the children of prophets. It is clear from the context that the Talmud is not referring to the distant past, but means to suggest that even now a spark of the prophetic power of his ancestors is to be found within every Jewish child. All you have to do is dig for it and you will discover it within you.[9]
 
Addressing the Difficulties of Adolescence
 
As discussed, R. Kalonymus’s approach is that the young student should assume responsibility for his own spiritual state, rather than the more conventional view of this role as belonging to rabbis and teachers. Accordingly, the uniqueness of R. Kalonymus’s book Chovat Ha-Talmidim is that it addresses itself to the young students themselves. It is therefore only natural that the difficulties faced by young people – as R. Kalonymus perceives them – occupy a central place in the book. Let us look at some typical challenges and the proposed ways of dealing with them.
 
Laziness is the most common and the most destructive of the ailments of character that afflict young people.[10]
 
This sentence introduces the chapter entitled “Laziness and its Cure.” R. Kalonymus analyzes the different manifestations of this character flaw: Some like to sleep a lot; some dislike working and prefer to be idle. A student who is lazy will exert himself only for the first week or two of the semester at yeshiva, and will then have endless excuses and explanations for his lack of dedication.
 
R. Kalonymus addresses this student and asks him why he should be different from any other living creature that works at the task assigned to it by God. Amongst the Sages there were many sterling examples of scholars dedicated to Torah study who also engaged in their respective occupations and would get up early to head for the beit midrash.
 
Things that are unimportant and of little worth are easy to obtain; things that are more important require more work. Torah is acquired only with effort – and it is important to remember that a person is not required to do that which beyond his capability.
 
A distinction should be drawn between laziness and lethargy. Someone who is lazy is idle, while someone who is sluggish or listless does his work, but without enthusiasm or energy, simply to fulfill the technical requirements. From one perspective, it is worse to be lazy, since laziness leads one to do nothing at all, but sluggishness is harder to cure. A lazy person may be given advice as to how to perform his work using different means, but if someone is listless in all that he does – his prayer is lifeless, his learning is superficial – it is difficult to get him to exert himself and put some effort into what he does. He operates as though half-asleep; his brain and limbs receive no instruction from his inner will to work with intensity, and thus he also feels no satisfaction, pleasure, or joy in what he does. In a previous chapter, we discussed R. Kalonymus’s emphasis on the need for fervor and passion in one’s service of God. Lethargy and lifelessness would seem to be the opposite of the traits that he encourages. R. Kalonymus addresses the young reader and explains the disadvantages of being lazy or listless, and offers stories that illustrate why it is impossible in such a state to progress in one’s service of God and to bring redemption.
 
However, R. Kalonymus does not suffice with persuasion. He devotes an entire chapter to “Some specific advice for the lazy,”[11] since, as he points out,
 
The desire to become diligent in the service God is not sufficient in itself. It is necessary to explore and discover devices and strategies that will help you uproot laziness and establish diligence.
 
If a student has to review a page of gemara, he should estimate how much time this will take – say, half an hour – and then commit himself to the task. If he fails to complete the task in time because of laziness, he should admonish himself: “What will become of me? As a result of my laziness, I am depriving myself of both worlds and am provoking God’s anger.” It is notable that while R. Kalonymus wrote his book in Hebrew, this self-admonishment is formulated in Yiddish. R. Kalonymus clearly meant for the student to experience his own self-censure as though some external voice was urging him to concentrate and keep up a good pace of work.
 
If a student is studying alone, not as part of a class and without a study partner, it is better that he study quantitively (beki’ut) rather than aiming at in-depth understanding (iyyun). In-depth study requires greater concentration, meaning that the student will more easily fall into day-dreaming and distraction, while quantitative learning offers constantly new material.
 
The student should plan a detailed daily schedule, “starting with the time you wish to get up in the morning and continuing with all your activities. Use [this] as a reference, checking back during the day to see if you have accomplished what you set out to do.” R. Kalonymus also points out that “even someone who is still in yeshiva can add additional periods of learning to the official yeshiva schedule during lunchtime and at night. Why not steal some time to devote to God from the edges of the yeshiva schedule?”
 
After becoming accustomed to a fixed daily schedule, the student will come to feel that something is missing if for whatever reason he skips a lesson or a study session; he will feel regret and will try to make up what he lost. If, for example, on Monday he reviews the schedule that he had set for Sunday and finds that one of the tasks that he set for himself was not achieved owing to laziness, he should complete it. If, on the other hand, the schedule was not kept because the student explored a question in depth or encountered a particularly difficult passage, then there is no need for him to force himself to make up the lost material or to feel any regret.
 
R. Kalonymus offers an encouraging vision:
 
The more work you take on, the more you will be stimulated to work… You will grow stronger and more courageous. You will be totally transformed into an industrious person who regularly bends himself under hard labor… A lazy person is one whose soul-powers are slumbering. These powers must be prodded awake and forced to work. Once they have been aroused and are already making an effort to work, the next step – that of deepening one’s learning – occurs naturally. However, without the yoke or obligation of a certain amount of work that must be completed each day, there is nothing to shake the soul awake…[12]
 
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 

[1] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, pp. xix-xx (= A Student’s Obligation, pp. 15-16).
[2] Ibid. p. xx (= ibid., p. 16).
[3] Ibid. p. 47 (= ibid. p. 39).
[4] Ibid. p. 34 (= ibid. pp. 28-29).
[5] Ibid. p. 35 (= ibid. p. 29).
[6] Ibid. p. xxvi (= ibid. p. 21).
[7] R. Yeshaya Horowitz, Shenei Luchot Ha-Berit Ha-Shalem (Jerusalem, 5753), vol. 4, Torat Kohanim, Torah She-Bikhtav, Parashat Kedoshim, p. 360.
[8] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, p. xxvii (= A Student’s Obligation, p. 22).
[9] Ibid., chapter 1 (= ibid., chapter 1 – “A Call to the Student”).
[10] Ibid. p. 43 (= Ibid. p 36).
[11] Ibid., chapter 5.
[12] A Student’s Obligation, p. 49.
 
 
 
 

Education and Negative Characteristics

 
One of the difficult tasks that a person must contend with throughout his life is working on negative character traits. Such flaws as arrogance, stubbornness, miserliness, and jealousy require work to correct, and the aspiration to achieve humility, amenability, generosity, and contentment has been at the center of mussar literature for generations. This is the basis of the education and cultivation of a Jewish child, youth, and adult. The question is what the best path is to improving one’s character. R. Kalonymus establishes a fundamental principle in education: There is no negative characteristic that cannot be corrected and no “bad” child who cannot be influenced:
 
Neither the nature nor any particular quality of a Jewish child is absolutely evil. This is what the holy Ba’al Shem Tov and his disciples have taught us. What is necessary is just to know how to use these qualities and how to help them develop and grow.[1]
 
A brief introduction is necessary in order for us to understand this assertion. R. Kalonymus maintains that this principle is a direct continuation of the teachings of the Ba’al Shem Tov and his disciples, rather than an innovation of his own. And indeed, chassidut from its inception defined the perfection of character as elevating deficient qualities to their Divine root.[2] The Ba’al Shem Tov does not view good and evil as a duality, as two polar opposites. Rather, they are a single continuum: When evil is brought close to its spiritual root, then it is good, and it finds its correction and perfection, as R. Yaakov Yosef writes in the name of his teacher, the Ba’al Shem Tov:
 
“And Pharaoh drew close…” (Shemot 14:10) – I learned from my teacher that when [something] evil causes [something] good, then it becomes a seat for that goodness, and it is all entirely good – almost a discarding of the “shell”; somewhat like in the time to come.[3]
 
This teaching suggests that evil should not be rejected outright, but rather elevated. From the Divine perspective, evil is not an entity. Everything is good, since everything flows from God, both good and bad; at their source, they are one. When goodness is sifted from evil and elevated to its source, the vitality of evil is nullified and it can no longer exist. In light of this we can understand the paradoxical situation whereby it is specifically a negative trait that is capable of bringing a person to a higher level. Indeed, this is the message that emerges from a teaching of R. Nachum of Chernobyl, one of the great Chassidic masters and a disciple of the Ba’al Shem Tov and the Maggid of Mezeritch:
 
Let me reveal a great lesson in this matter. As you know, if it happens at some time that a person feels within himself that he has fallen during that time into bad character traits, and especially if he has fallen into the evil of love, and specifically the desire for sexual relations – even in conditions where this is permissible, then he should know that God desires to lift him up to a high level, with the qualities that are inborn in him, and to open his heart to the love of the blessed God, such that he might merit the aspect of the giving of the Torah from on High, as it is said on High, and prior to this lifting up comes a drawing down… When he falls to a place of improper love, God sees him standing on that lowly level and strengthening himself with an arousal of this improper love to conquer the evil inclination [and stop it] from carrying out its will to fulfill his desire, and to experience that same arousal of love towards the Creator… He is therefore uplifted to a great level, and he thereby elevates all the fallen loves, for the sake of whose upliftment he descended – to raise them to the highest possible level: the world of love, and he thereby ascends to the most supreme level…[4]
 
Let us consider for a moment this person, who faces the test of unperfected desire. He could fail and fall, but he succeeds in overcoming his evil inclination and directs the power of his desire – whose origin and root is the power of love – to its source in the “world of love,” thereby elevating not only his lowly, deficient love to the level of supreme love, but also all the deficient, broken, distorted desires and loves that have fallen low, and which, by virtue of his achievement, attain their most supreme level. Thus, the idea is to direct every flawed trait to its source on High. The same approach is adopted with regard to elevating foreign thoughts to their root (although in the generations after the Ba’al Shem Tov, this was discouraged as a practice for the masses).
 
The Torah uses a surprising term to define incestuous relations between a man and his sister: “It is chesed (lovingkindness).” The question is asked, what sort of “lovingkindness” is this? It is completely forbidden! It is an abomination! But R. Yaakov Yosef explains:
 
For example, if a person finds himself thinking lustfully about women, it comes from chesed, as it is written, “[And if a man] takes his sister… it is chesed (Vayikra 20:17). He should understand that the source of this lust is in a Divine spark within him, and he should cleave to the source of that pleasure, for that [source] is a pleasure that is priceless and without limit…[5]
 
When a person overcomes this desire he must direct himself to the source from which this forbidden love emerged and cleave to that source. He will thereby not only avoid transgressing any prohibition, but will also elevate himself and merit the infinite pleasure that comes from cleaving to the source of pleasure.
 
R. Tzadok Ha-Kohen of Lublin offers an eloquent formulation of the Chassidic approach to perfecting one’s character:
 
It is well-known that the repair of character traits is to elevate them to their source. Thus, the repair of gevura that comes from the kelipa is through “gevura of holiness” – zealousness against those who transgress His will. And the repair of desire that comes from the kelipa is in desire of holiness – desire and longing for God.[6]
 
If, for example, a person needs to correct his trait of jealousy, he should channel that jealousy into zealousness for the sake of Heaven, directed against those who transgress God’s will. And if a person experiences desire for that which is forbidden to him, he should direct that same powerful desire in the direction of holiness. The principle is one of sublimation of the trait requiring repair by redirecting and rechanneling it in a positive direction.
 
Let us now turn our attention to what R. Kalonymus has to say about the perfection of character. While no trait that exists in a Jewish child is categorically negative, we still have to know how to deal with a child who demonstrates negative traits. For example, if a child is stubborn and the teacher has trouble teaching him as a result, he might try to repress the child’s stubbornness by force. But this approach is misguided. R. Kalonymus suggests seeking the positive side of stubbornness; when the child grows up, he will be “stubborn” in his commitment to Torah and will not allow himself “shortcuts” when things are difficult.[7]
 
The same applies to the trait of anger. A child who expresses anger is likely to be criticized by his parents and teachers for being “bad-natured.” But R. Kalonymus explains:
 
It is impossible to predict ahead of time how great a benefit may emerge, through the efforts of the principal or teacher, from the very anger of the angry child. One must penetrate into his inner life, bring him close, and ignite his heart and his soul until they are dedicated to God. Then his anger will be transformed into a fire from above. All of his acts of devotion will burn like fiery coals, and all the words that he will speak to God, in prayer and in Torah, will thunder from a voice of fire…[8]
 
Towards the end of his Mevo Ha-She’arim (chapter 9), R. Kalonymus addresses the perfection of character, which he defines as “our ultimate purpose in writing this book.” In this chapter, he expands on the conceptual foundations of his approach to character improvement.
 
In our earlier discussion of “God, the World, and Man,” we discussed the Ba’al Shem Tov’s teaching that Divinity fills everything, and that even this-worldliness, with its “concealments” and “vessels,” is full of Divine light. The conclusion drawn from this is that one has to serve God with one’s very body, not just by performing mitzvot. This principle, which is known in chassidut as “avoda be-gashmiut” (service through corporeality),[9] means that one has to serve God through each and every aspect and component of reality –  through eating just like through putting on tefillin and through one’s work just as through shaking a lulav. Some Chassidic thinkers argued that service of God through corporeality is not less worthy than observance of the commandments, but rather more precious.[10] As R. Yisrael of Kozhnitz, R. Kalonymus’s grandfather, writes in his Sefer Avodat Yisrael:
 
There are many ways of serving God. One is the simple, straightforward path of engaging in Torah and Divine service all day, and the rest of the commandments, and afflicting oneself so as to be removed from all [earthly] pleasures and enjoyments. But there is another path open to those seeking to sanctify themselves, and this is to sanctify oneself even through eating and drinking… Certainly, one who is able to sanctify himself even through earthly things and desires, whose table is like an altar – his sanctity is even greater and more wondrous. For unquestionably so long as a person is involved in Torah or prayer, his evil inclination does not have much power to tempt him and to deflect him from the good path onto an evil path, for one who observes a commandment will suffer no harm. But when a person falls from his spiritual level and experiences a powerful desire to eat, and he breaks this impulse so as not to eat and drink like an animal, but rather eats in the proper measure so that he will be able to serve God, and so that he will be content and able to concentrate properly on his Torah study, and other such lofty intentions, then the power of his [Divine] service is increased, and he brings a thousand-fold gratification to God.[11]
 
(To be continued)
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 

[1] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, p. x (= A Student’s Obligation, p. 7).
[2] For more on this see H. Zeitlin, Be-Pardes Ha-Kabbala Ve-Ha-Chassidut (Tel Aviv, 5742), pp. 33-42.
[3] R. Yaakov Yosef of Polnoe, Toldot Yaakov Yosef (Jerusalem, 5733), Parashat Bo 8; Keter Shem Tov (Kehat edition, Brooklyn, NY, 5747), p. 106.
[4] R. Nachum of Chernobyl, Maor Enayim (Jerusalem, 5728), Parashat Lekh-Lekha.
[5] R. Yaakov Yosef of Polnoe, Toldot Yaakov Yosef (Jerusalem, 5733), Parashat Ekev, 3.
[6] R. Tzadok Ha-Kohen Mi-Lublin, Kometz Ha-Mincha (Lublin, 5699), #16.
[7] Chovat Ha-Talmidim, p. 11 (= A Student’s Obligation, p. 7).
[8] Ibid.
[9] For more on avoda be-gashmiyut, see R. Wacks, Be-Sod Ha-Yichud: Ha-Yichudim Be-Haguto Ha-Kabbalit-Chassidit shel R. Chaim ben Shlomo Tirer Mi-Tshernowitz (Los Angeles, 2006), pp. 221-228.
[10] “All that a person engages in, in matters of this world – eating and drinking, commerce, everything – is the glory of the blessed Creator… And in everything there is Torah” (R. Nachum of Chernobyl, Maor Enayim [Jerusalem, 5728], p. 428). Elsewhere he writes, “Even when one has to fulfill the mitzva of timely conjugal relations, as set forth in the Torah, it should not be purely out of love for the blessed Creator, like all the mitzvot, such as tzitzit and tefillin, [but also] so that there should be no division or discord between them, and so he would not act just to satisfy his desire. If he does so, then he is thereby elevated to a great level” (Ibid., p. 41).
[11] R. Yisrael of Kozhnitz, Sefer Avodat Yisrael (Jerusalem, 5753), Parashat Vayigash. (This excerpt is quoted in Mevo Ha-She’arim, p. 294.)
 
 
 

Elevating One's Body

 
In all his books, R. Kalonymus emphasizes the importance of serving God with one’s body.[1] The body should not be rejected, nor afflicted in any way, but rather embraced as a full partner in one’s Divine service, together with one’s mental faculties.
 
R. Kalonymus draws an interesting comparison between chassidut and kabbala with regard to the status of the body and its faculties.[2] He quotes from the book Reshit Chokhma, written by R. Eliyahu de Vidas, a disciple of R. Moshe Cordovero:
 
R. Yitzchak Daman of Acre, of blessed memory, wrote among the practices of the pious ones (perushim) that one who never experiences the desire for a woman is like a donkey, or even less. The reason is that from that which is sensory and tangible one is supposed to discern [and develop] the service of God.[3]
 
R. Kalonymus notes that this excerpt would seem to underline the value of corporeal desires, for in their absence man would have no desire for holy matters either; he would be devoid of any motivation or aspiration. This sort of approach may be identified with chassidut, but there is still a difference between chassidut and kabbala. This difference becomes clear in light of an interesting story that is recounted in Reshit Chokhma:
 
The following story is recounted by R. Yitzchak Daman of Acre z”l: One day the king’s daughter was leaving the bathhouse when an idler spied her. He heaved a great sigh and said, “If only she was mine and I could do with her as I wish.” The king’s daughter answered him and said, “That will happen in the graveyard, not here.” He rejoiced at her words, for he understood her as meaning that he should go to the graveyard and settle himself there, and she would come and join him, and he could do with her as he pleased. This had not been her intention; what she meant was that the graveyard is a place where all are made equal – great and small, young and old, the scorned and the well-respected: “The small and great are there alike…” (Iyov 3:19) – i.e., they are equal there, but not here [in this life]. For [in our reality] it is unthinkable that the king’s daughter could be approached by one of the masses. So the man got up and went to the graveyard, and he dwelled there, and focused his thoughts upon her and had her likeness constantly in his mind, and out of his great desire for her he removed his mind from all of his senses and devoted it entirely to the likeness of that woman and her beauty. Day and night he sat in the graveyard; he ate there, drank there, and slept there, telling himself that if she did not come today, she would come tomorrow, and so he remained for a long time. And so far removed was he from all sensation, having wedded his thoughts to one single thing, meditating on it and desiring it completely, that his inner being began divesting itself of all tangible existence and was drawn back to pure ideas, to the point that it was divested of all sensory stimulation, including even the woman, and was drawn to the blessed God. After a time, his mind was drawn only to the idea of the Divine, and he became a wholehearted servant of God, a holy man of God, such that his prayers were heard and his blessings were effective for all who passed by there. Merchants and riders and pedestrians who went by would go to him and receive his blessing, and he became widely renowned.[4]
 
This commoner desired the king’s daughter. She rejected him, but he failed to understand her words to him. He focused all his wants and desires on the king’s daughter, ignoring any physical object or being so that nothing else existed for him. His desire was refined and abstracted into thought, with no physical component, thereby elevating himself to the Source of the woman’s beauty. Thus, out of physical desire, this man achieved a supreme level of devekut and became holy.
 
Does this story accord with the Chassidic approach? R. Kalonymus argues that the approach suggested by this story does not sit well with the path of the Ba’al Shem Tov because it does not reflect the view that the body is fundamentally holy. Instead, the story teaches that sensory desires must be suppressed, overcome, and nullified. In contrast to R. Eliyahu de Vidas, the Ba’al Shem Tov maintains that the body must be enlisted along with every other part and aspect of ourselves in the service of God; it must certainly not be rejected or afflicted.[5]
 
R. Kalonymus explains that the path of the Ba’al Shem Tov is “a new channel and a new revelation.” In other words, his personality and his teachings had an impact on the world, creating “a new manner of Divine service.”[6] His path should not be regarded as being in conflict with kabbala, for it is a new path, previously unknown. The kabbalists maintained that the body is material and evil, that a person should “distance himself from everything material and suppress his inclinations,”[7] and that the essence of Divine service is performed with the mind, through the kavanot. The Ba’al Shem Tov taught that since the entire body is holy – since even “garments” and “vessels” are full of Divine light, and the body is a garment for the soul – not only should the body not be repressed and regarded as an enemy, but all its desires should be viewed as “real holiness.” Of course, this is true so long as the person exerts himself and tries to break the power of his desires “until he reaches the ultimate holy purpose and root of everything that belongs to the material world.”[8]
 
To explain the fact that a person is born with certain tendencies, R. Kalonymus invokes the concept of “mazal” and the four basic elements. The gemara in Massekhet Shabbat (156a) deals at length with the effect of “mazal” on one’s personality. Thus, for example, R. Yehoshua ben Levi states that a person who is born on a Monday will be contentious; one who is born on a Tuesday will be wealthy and lustful, and so on, with various qualities being related to different days of the week. Of course, this approach raises the question of a person’s responsibility for working on himself. If his character is determined in advance, he is justified in arguing that it is beyond his power to change himself. Therefore, R. Kalonymus brings support from the Rambam,[9] who writes that one should pay no attention to the astrological theories according to which a person’s character is determined by the constellations and positions of the stars, emphasizing instead that every individual has the free choice to determine what sort of person he will be.
 
Seemingly, the Rambam is contradicting the gemara and rejecting the idea of any influence of mazal on a person’s behavior. R. Kalonymus – who, in his typical fashion, gives respectful consideration both to Chazal and to the Rambam – seeks to resolve these two approaches. He suggests that both Chazal and the Rambam would agree that a person is born with a certain nature and certain proclivities and that the stars do have some effect on his nature, but his actions nevertheless depend solely on his choice, and a person can actualize his inborn qualities in a positive or negative manner.[10] R. Chaim Vital, in his Sha’arei Kedusha – a source that R. Kalonymus relies on heavily – likewise agrees that there are elements in a person’s psyche that produce negative inclinations: The element of fire is the source of pride; the element of wind is the source of meaningless chatter, flattery, and negative speech; the element of water is manifest as the need for earthly pleasures; and the element of earth is the source of melancholy.[11] This being the case, R. Kalonymus points out, even without invoking mazalot – which we don’t fully understand anyway – there is a basis for the concept of negative inborn tendencies simply on the basis of the elements.[12]
What this suggests is that every person is born with certain traits and qualities, some of them possibly negative. A person must know is how to channel them, as in the teaching of R. Elimelekh, cited by R. Kalonymus:
 
It is impossible for a person to break all of his inborn qualities. What he needs to do is to elevate them to holiness. For instance, someone who has the quality of anger should keep himself from extraneous anger, reserving it to feel anger towards the wicked; and likewise regarding all qualities…[13]
 
R. Kalonymus emphasizes that the channeling of one’s innate qualities in the direction of Divine service must apply to all aspects of a person, both physical and mental. If one works on the perfection of his inner self but represses the body or simply leaves it out of the process, the body may assert its needs later on, at which point all the work on one’s character traits will turn out to have been of no value. Moreover, if a person does not include his body and all his inner energies and capacities in the service of God, then those aspects that have been suppressed will reassert themselves even more powerfully – because that is what repressed energies do.[14]
 
Work on one’s character can be undertaken in one of two ways. The first is by force, battling and overcoming a negative trait. For example, if a person is angry but he overcomes his anger, he has “conquered” himself in this regard and has repressed the quality of anger. The other way is the complete reversal of the negative trait, going to the opposite extreme. For example, if a person identifies that he is stingy, he will become generous. In the language of the Admor Ha-Zaken of Chabad, R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first method is called “itkafia” (forcing), while the second is called “it’hapcha” (transformation). R. Kalonymus engages in an interesting dialogue with the Chabad tradition and its concepts, attempting to integrate them into his teachings.[15]
 
R. Kalonymus’s path is unquestionably a quest for it’hapcha, which is on a higher level than the repression of itkafia. But implementing it’hapcha is not a simple matter, and the Admor Ha-Zaken reserves the task of transforming evil into good for exceptional, singular individuals.[16] According to Sefer Ha-Tania, the “benoni” (literally, “average person,” defined in Sefer Ha-Tania as a person who is defined neither as a tzaddik nor as a rasha) is one who never allows evil to overcome his Divine soul and lead him into sin[17] – and this is not an easy level to achieve. Far more difficult is the level of the complete tzaddik, who manages to actually transform evil into holiness. Concerning this level, R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi writes:
 
But concerning the level of a “complete tzaddik,” R. Shimon bar Yochai said, “I have seen bnei aliya, and they are few…” It is for this reason that they are called bnei aliya, for they transform evil, elevating it to holiness.[18]
 
From the perspective of Sefer Ha-Tania, then, R. Kalonymus’s teaching regarding the need to extend sanctity over all a person’s faculties, including his body, seems like an impossible quest – except for singular, individual tzaddikim in each generation.
 
To resolve this difficulty, R. Kalonymus refers to a teaching of the Admor Ha-Zaken in Likkutei Torah,[19] where he argues that there is a level of it’hapcha that is available even to regular people:
 
Since he thereby transforms the bodily faculties into holiness, he thereby subjugates the evil inclination and vanquishes it, to the point where it may be referred to as it’hapcha, even though the evil itself has not yet been transformed into good, as in the case of the greatest tzaddikim described in the Tania.[20]
 
In other words, R. Kalonymus’s approach does not seek to meet evil head-on; it confines itself to dealing with man’s faculties and his “bodily sensations,” distancing them from evil. The tzaddikim of Sefer Ha-Tania transform actual evil into good – but this is not what R. Kalonymus’s teachings are aimed at doing.
 
R. Kalonymus sums up his view by stating that any person who seeks to sanctify himself is capable of achieving it’hapcha through separating his faculties and his body from evil and drawing them to sanctity, although he accepts the view of R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi that only tzaddikim are capable of injecting “the primordial light of Mashiach even into vessels,” thereby separating them from evil, bringing them to holiness, and bringing about the it’hapcha described in Sefer Ha-Tania.[21]
 
Here R. Kalonymus poses a question that challenges his own approach: If the Divine service that we perform through itkafia and it’hapcha is not as it was in previous generations and does not address evil directly, one might argue that there is no value to such service. After a person has worked on perfecting his faculties, strengths, and qualities and then rests from his efforts, “the evil inclination will once again enlist them for evil purposes, Heaven forfend… for he has not vanquished the evil inclination itself.” In other words, if evil is not uprooted and conquered altogether, what is the use of channeling one’s strengths in the direction of holiness? If the evil inclination can rise up again at any given moment, then what have we achieved by our efforts?
 
R. Kalonymus offers two answers. One is that someone who has not reached the level of a “tzaddik” as defined by Sefer Ha-Tania does indeed live with a constant threat of the evil inclination reasserting itself – but this is not a reason for a person to sit idly and do nothing to improve himself. If he is conscientious in subjugating his physical, mental, and spiritual faculties to God, then he will slowly but steadily approach the level of the “benoni,” who does not sin. Constant work will also help him subjugate his evil inclination to holiness.
 
The second answer that he gives sums up the discussion:
 
There is order and regularity at the basis of man’s physical powers, emotions, and thoughts. If a person is aware of and works in step with the principles and rules that govern the functioning of his body and mind, he will be able to control them and drive them. If he is not aware of these principles and how they work, then not only will he not be able to control and drive them, but it is highly unlikely that they will ever obey him and perform as he wishes them to…
 
This knowledge of the principles and rules governing his body, his emotions, and his mind is the very purpose of this book, with the help of He Who teaches Torah to His people, Israel.[22]
 
A person’s awareness of his physical powers, his feelings, and his thoughts, and the way in which they operate allows him to control them and guide them in accordance with his will. In the absence of such knowledge, a person has no control over himself or over his life. This would seem to suggest that if a person follows R. Kalonymus’s path and comes to know himself well, he will be able to deal appropriately with his desires. Even though it is always possible that his evil inclination will rise up and challenge him, the chances of this happening recede as the person progresses in his efforts and his Divine service.
 
The fundamental assertion here is that a person cannot guide his various faculties in the direction of their proper purpose without a sound knowledge of all the elements of his physical and psychological makeup. It is to this end that R. Kalonymus wrote his book, Mevo Ha-She’arim.
 
(To be continued)
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 
 
 

Practical Advice for Conquering the Evil Inclination and Improving One’s Character

 
The presentation of practical methods for dealing with the manifestation of various desires is one of R. Kalonymus’s innovations. As in other areas that he addresses, here too we find in-depth, creative thinking that reflects a profound familiarity with the human psyche. A person has to know his inner world and all its inclinations:
 
In order for a person to be able to repair his thinking, his emotions, his character traits, and other proclivities and distortions of the mind using advice and strategies… he has to first know them, their nature, and their workings, and all the inclinations of the mind, in detail, just as a physician knows every detail of the human body.[1]
 
R. Kalonymus offers practical advice that provides a person with tools – to use his terminology, “segulot” – that help him deal more effectively with his wants and desires. But this is not enough to definitively defeat the evil inclination:
 
Let it hereby be known, young man – by segula we do not mean to promise that by using it you will be able to defiantly challenge your evil inclination. For in reality there is nothing that can completely nullify the evil inclination and free choice. However, we can say that if you are not lazy but indeed put it to good use, then, with much help from God, it will be of useful benefit to you.[2]
 
The main problem in the realm of character improvement and dealing with the evil inclination is that, powerless to completely uproot the evil from within himself, a person will usually resort to self-restraint and repression, his aim being to “treat the symptoms” and halt negative expressions.[3] R. Kalonymus describes people who in their old age have trouble controlling their desires because in their youth they did not address the challenge properly:
 
There are people who are hounded by untoward thoughts, desires, and tendencies both during waking hours and in their dreams; even those thoughts that they would not consciously allow themselves find entry at unconscious times. In fact, several elderly people have bemoaned to me that even for things that they cannot anymore physically do; nevertheless, as if to spite, these thoughts still hound them. Some of these stories are so shockingly shameful, I would not quote them here in my journal.[4]
 
As an example, R. Kalonymus cites the case of an elderly man who regularly felt the urge to cross himself, as Christians do, to be healed of his heart complaint. R. Kalonymus analyses his case:
 
An elderly peasant came to me crying and screaming; he has a weak heart, but that was not his complaint. Rather, whenever he gets palpitations, he gets a thought to cross himself and be healed. So compulsive becomes this thought that he can barely restrain himself.
 
I questioned these unfortunate souls and delved into their distant past. I found no wanton lives, contrary to what even they thought of themselves. Even now, they abhor these thoughts. However, their entire lives they worked only on their conscious thoughts and emotions to prevent their baser desires from taking control of them. Their very souls, though, they did not heal. So they were successful in that their infected souls did not spew up their desires into their minds and hearts, but this infection continued to fester inside. Now, when they are old and weak and have difficulty controlling themselves, the inborn drives of their souls explode into their thoughts and emotions.
 
This is what happened to that old peasant. In his youth, he had heard of many bluff miracle healings from gentile peasants. Even though he would never convert, nevertheless these stories resonated in his ignorant and simple soul. He was able to keep them out of his conscious mind and emotions, but they had affected – infected – the depths of his unconscious soul. Now in his old age, these phantoms are coming to haunt him. All the much more so with other old people whose present compulsive thoughts are natural human desires.
 
These elderly people now see themselves as great sinners… In torment, they now say:… My mind and inner world have become a den for beastly thoughts and a home for the underworld![5]
 
A person has to contend with the blemishes of his psyche, and not just with their “symptoms” – his thoughts and feelings – in order not to end up in the same situation as this unfortunate old man.
 
So much for the problem – what about the solution? R. Kalonymus tells us that there is no single solution for the problem. A person has to take responsibility for himself, to seek guidance, and also to develop his own independent initiatives, rather than being like a beggar who is constantly dependent on others.[6] Nevertheless, in his writings R. Kalonymus offers various pieces of advice. Let us consider some of them.
 
First of all, it is important not to act too hastily:
 
The Ba’al Shem Tov taught that a person should always act with a settled mind, not out of haste, and this is the meaning of, “… and you shall perish quickly (ve-avadetem meheira)” – [this should be read as,] “you shall cause haste to perish.”[7]
 
The problem that one wishes to address must first be considered and analyzed, with intellectual honesty, not deluding oneself.
 
As a second stage, R. Kalonymus notes a rule of human behavior – a principle that, once known to us, can be used to “strip a soiled and horrid garment from the mind.” The principle is that if a person experiences some movement of the psyche – imagination, will, feeling, love, awe, etc. – there are two ways of relating to it. The first is to address the psychic movement directly, with the result that the movement will be encouraged and intensified. The second way is to treat it indirectly, “from the outside,” and such thinking will weaken it.
 
R. Kalonymus illustrates the distinction with examples. Bring to mind the image of someone you know well, whom you see often. The more you think about him, the clearer the mental picture becomes, for you think about this person in all his detail: how he eats, what he talks about, etc. But if you think about this person in a different way, and instead of imagining his image you think “about” him – i.e. you think about whether or not to create a mental picture of him in your mind – then “the very act of trying to look at that mental picture will serve to blur it, and the more you try to hold on to it, the further it will slip away and you will find yourself unable to conjure a picture of this most familiar figure at all.”[8] In this way, you are able to weaken the influence of unwanted thoughts and images, to look at them and treat them “objectively,” from an impersonal distance.
 
The same applies to the psychic movement that we call love. When we have a beloved friend, we seek to benefit him, we occupy our thoughts with how to make him happy, what gifts to give him, how to do favors for him, and what will happen when we next see each other. Each time we think in this way, the feeling of love is reinforced and strengthened. But if we divert our thought in a different direction, and instead of thinking about the beloved friend, we think about the love we feel for him – asking ourselves, “Do I really love him? Why do I love him, rather than someone else?” – the very act of thinking “about” weakens the movement of love and blurs the feeling. In contrast to the previous example, which described a mental picture, here we are talking about an actual feeling, and a feeling is more firmly planted in the psyche than a picture created in the mind. Thus, it may be more difficult to weaken the feeling – especially if it starts off very strong. However, if we need to weaken a feeling, this is the way to do it.[9] Thus we are able to control and weaken negative feelings that we want to get rid of.
 
This strategy of diverting a person’s focus from the object itself to a discussion “about” it is not easy to implement, and it requires skill and practice. R. Kalonymus does not deny there is a danger of people focusing “on the [psychic] movement and the desire itself, out of lust and stimulation of the evil inclination, while believing that they are thinking “about” it – and they will not know why the method is not working and why the desire is not becoming weaker.[10] He cites R. Asher of Stolin, who said that someone who shouts about his evil inclination along with his evil inclination does nothing to help his situation, but if he shouts about his evil inclination with God, the evil inclination flees. In other words, if a person tries to rid himself of unwanted thoughts and desires by means of thoughts of unwanted desires, he is only reinforcing the problem, rather than solving it.[11] If he cannot manage to separate himself from the unwanted thoughts, in order to be able to think “about” them, he should tell himself, “I will take a 20-minute break from thinking about this improper thought,” and during that time he can observe it without being immersed in it. If he is altogether unable to break his thoughts away, R. Kalonymus suggests thinking about something that he really likes or really dislikes – something that is highly pertinent to him, such as his dealings at work. This new thought might push aside the unwanted thought, allowing him to think “about” it rather than “of” it.
 
Since a person wants to be the master of himself and to control his feelings, R. Kalonymus offers additional suggestions for developing such control. If, for example, a person is presented with two types of meat, and one appeals to him more than the other, he should take the second kind, not the first. One should utilize such opportunities to exercise his inner forces on minor issues, so as to build up the inner strength needed for greater and more important battles.
 
Another example would be food that is not needed for nutritional value – the person is not hungry – but rather merely tempting. The solution here would be a form of auto-suggestions, in which the person persuades himself that there are better and more important reasons not to eat the treats than to give in to temptation:
 
If you are presented with sweets and treats that are more tempting, and your desire for them is strong and it is more difficult for you to refuse them, and in order to justify this sin to yourself you wish to make light of it and brush it off – “What does it matter whether I eat this or not; everyone is eating it” – then do as above: Start to observe your desire and ask yourself: “It is true that I have a great desire for this food. I do not wish to debate whether it is proper to eat of it or not; there may be no transgression involved right now. But what I do know is that I am consumed with desire, to the point where it is difficult for me to refuse this food. After all, I won’t die if I don’t eat any of it. Still, how strongly drawn I am to it!” Observe yourself and your desire, and keep telling yourself: “I know I’m no tzaddik, but to think that I am so pathetic and so consumed with desire that I am vanquished and overpowered by this food…!”
 
Consider your desire and repeat this to yourself a few times, and you will be amazed at how, with God’s help, your desire will be weakened and even disappear.
 
Thus you should do when it comes to food, and thus you should do with regard to your other desires, as well…[12]
 
In the event that a negative character trait makes itself manifest – jealously, for example, or hatred towards someone – and it is difficult to assuage, a person should tell himself, “Fire shall be kept burning upon the altar continually.”[13] Another segula that R. Kalonymus cites is brought in the name of R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk, as recorded in a book about his practices:
 
Whenever a negative trait began to awaken within him, Heaven forefend… such as stubbornness or shame that arise from pride, laziness or lethargy that lead to apathy, or the like, he would immediately declare, with all his strength: “The Canaanites, the Chittites, the Emorites, the Perizzites, the Chivvites, the Jebusites, and the Girgashites” – and he was saved.[14]
 
It should be noted that there is no magical act involved here. R. Kalonymus’s approach is based on a broad understanding of psychology, and this segula may again be explained as a diversion of the mind, focusing it on content that is meaningful and holy. The meaning of the verse, “Fire shall be kept burning…” in this context is the burning away of desire, while the meaning of the verse, “The Canaanites, the Chittites…” is the banishing of thoughts of hatred, etc. R. Kalonymus adds that this tactic should be used sparingly, not all the time, for after a while it loses its effectiveness through habit.
 
If some unwanted and forbidden thought enters a person’s mind during prayer or some other holy activity that cannot be halted midway, R. Kalonymus suggests making use of one’s imagination and envisaging the thought in the form of a predatory beast:
 
Observe the thought and see how this cruel, detestable, filthy beast has invaded your mind and is now trampling all that is holy within you, with its filthy feet, opening wide its terrifying jaws, to devour every fiber and sinew of your body and soul.[15]
 
He adds an important comment recalling the guidance above – that one should not think the forbidden thought itself, in order not to be drawn into it and thereby reinforce it, but rather to think “about” it, in a more distant, objective way:
 
Take care and guard yourself not to think the improper thought itself, only about that thought, and about the evil beast that consumes you, body and soul alike, Heaven forefend.[16]
 
A person sometimes feels, after eating, that his spirit becomes arrogant, sometimes angry, sometimes melancholy. R. Kalonymus suggests that this person try to discover when exactly the change in his mood comes about and what happened after that: Is it because of his eating that his mood changed? If he discovers what causes it, and he feels shame and says, “Can something so idiotic influence my mood,” then he will nullify its effect and impact. The sign of this is that if he has identified the cause of the negative effect, then immediately upon thinking about it, its effect will dissipate and he will feel relief. If he does not feel this, then the cause is something else.[17]
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 

[1] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 118.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Tzav Ve-Ziruz, p. 323.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Tzav Ve-Ziruz, pp. 324-325 (= To Heal the Soul, pp. 9-10).
[6] Ibid., p. 326 (= Ibid. p. 11).
[7] Ba’al Shem Tov al Ha-Torah (Jerusalem, 5767), Parashat Ekev #62; Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 119.
[8] Hakhsharat ha-Avrekhim, p. 120.
[9] Ibid., p. 121.
[10] Ibid., p. 124.
[11] Ibid., p. 125.
[12] Hakhsharat ha-Avrekhim, pp. 122-123.
[13] The Shelah Ha-Kadosh writes: “I found a manuscript of the holy R. Moshe Cordovero, who writes: ‘A certain elderly man taught me how to eliminate an [unwanted] thought: He should repeat several times the verse, ‘Fire shall be kept burning upon the altar continually; it shall not go out’ (Vayikra 6:6). It seems clear to me that the old man was the prophet Eliyahu, who did not want to reveal himself out of his great humility.” See R. Yeshaya Horowitz, Shenei Luchot Ha-Berit Ha-Shalem (Jerusalem, 5753), Sha’ar Ha-Otiyot, Lev Tov #7, p. 310.
[14] R. Elimelekh of Lizhensk, No’am Elimelekh (Jerusalem, 5752), Tzetil Katan #5.
[15] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 124.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Hakhsharat Ha-Avrekhim, p. 130.
 
 
 

The Inner World of R. Kalonymus Kalman Shapiro

 
Personal Writing
 
The book Tzav Ve-Ziruz (To Heal the Soul) allows us a glimpse of R. Kalonymus’s inner world. It is a very personal work. While his other writings are addressed to the reader, discussing his world and his experiences, here R. Kalonymus focuses on his own perspective.[1]
 
Did R. Kalonymus mean to publish this journal? And if so, for what reason does he expose in public his very personal self-reckoning, his weaknesses, failures, and crises?
 
Writing was an important value for R. Kalonymus, and he recommends it to his readers as well:
 
Record your inner life in a journal. This will not be something you do in order to earn immortal fame as an author, but rather to engrave your soul-portrait on paper. Write down all your inner struggles, your setbacks and successes, and grant them eternal life. This way your very essence, the personality of your soul, your spiritual attainments, your life’s inner treasures, will live on forever in the lives of your spiritual heirs as generations come and go.[2]
 
When readers incorporate an author’s essence into their own lives by following his teachings and living his lessons, “the author’s very soul lives on for eternity,” explains R. Kalonymus in a footnote. For the writer himself, there is great value to articulating his spiritual challenges and victories. By means of writing, he organizes his thoughts and is more easily able to plan his progress.
 
However, it would appear that R. Kalonymus meant to share his journal with others,[3] and so the revelations in it are conscious and deliberate. The title, “Tzav Ve-Ziruz” (literally, “A Command and an Urging”) would likewise seem to indicate that the intention had been to publish the book. R. Kalonymus apparently believed that this openness would allow the reader to be influenced by his way of thinking and his sharp, unsparing self-criticism, such that the reader could then apply the same thinking to himself and his own situation.
 
This is well-illustrated by a sermon that R. Kalonymus delivered to his students on the seventh day of Pesach in the year 5681 (1921). He talks about a man who came to him and complained about all his shortcomings. One of this man’s problems was that after praying, he would always feel a let-down. R. Kalonymus therefore tells his students:
 
It is well known and should be remembered that one cannot constantly be in a state of upliftment; there have to be ups and downs. Someone who thinks that he never falls from his level has obviously never risen to a state of spiritual upliftment…[4]
 
In the middle of his sermon, he refers the students to his Tzav Ve-Ziruz, in which one of the chapters deals with the challenge of reinforcing one’s motivation in the service of God. But the booklet also contains quite a few chapters dealing with the mood and mental state of the Rebbe himself. Of course, one might question the combination of guidance for the masses and recording the mood of the Rebbe. I believe that he meant to teach us that even the Rebbe has different moods; he, too, experiences ups and downs, doubts and crises. The reader can then arrive at the obvious conclusion: If even the Rebbe faces these challenges, then I have no need to worry that there is some problem with me. Let me see how the Rebbe approaches the difficulty, and I can try to implement the same solution.
 
Since such descriptions are rare among Chassidic leaders, they are of particular interest.
 
In addition to sections of self-accounting, Tzav Ve-Ziruz includes extensive advice in serving God, like R. Kolonymus’s other books. In this context, however, we shall focus only on his personal experiences and insights, reviewing some of his descriptions and paying attention to the inner torment reflected in them.
 
Observation of the Passage of Years and Advancing Age
 
Thank God, I am already in my fortieth year of life, and in a few months it will be my fortieth birthday. After that begins the decline of life, the beginnings of my old age. I am afraid. Very afraid. Not so much from the inevitable passing of my life but from the spiritual poverty of my years do I shudder; they are gone and past, empty and void, wasted on childish games.
 
“What will be with you, mortal creature!” I tell myself. “Your prime of life is gone, and now, when you’ve reached your decline, when the inevitable process of dying has begun, only now you remember your Creator?”
 
And even now, can I be sure of myself? How many periods of inspiration and improvement have I already had in my life, and what always happened to them? They passed like snow on a summer’s day. This happened at previous transitions of life: before my bar mitzvah, before my wedding… I experienced then such a deep inspiration and felt so firm in my convictions. I said to myself that from then on I was certain to be God’s faithful servant. And who knows if even now, once I become accustomed to being past forty, that the past will not happen again; all the inspiration and aspiration will melt and disappear. As there is no trace left from my earlier inspirations, what will be left of this one?
 
But I dare not despair! My heart pounds from my impending fortieth birthday; my entire body shakes from my oncoming declining years. Still, I will try to muster all my strength to commit myself and my life to God. Perhaps, perhaps something will remain.
 
But to what shall I commit myself? To learn more? I think that as far as possible, I don’t waste any time. To abstain from physical pleasures? If my own desires are not fooling, me, thank God, I am not so attached to them. So what am I missing? Simply to be a Jew. I see myself as a self-portrait that shows all colors and features real to life. Just one thing is missing: the soul.
 
“God, Master of the world, Who sees my innermost secrets! Before You I confess. You I beseech! I feel so cast aside and distanced from You and from Your holy Presence! Help me – I want to become a simple Jew!
 
God, save me from wasting the rest of my years chasing the illusions of life! Draw me closer and bring me into Your innermost Presence! Bind me to You forever and ever in wealth of spirit and soul.”[5]
 
*
Am I Ready to Leave this World?
 
A terror came over me yesterday during shalosh seudos as the thought came to mind: What would happen if my demise were nearby? The mishna says to repent one day before one’s death (Avot 2:15). I wonder how I could do it. Just to refrain from forbidden behavior and thought by simply controlling oneself is possible, even at the prime of one’s life – just keep in mind your possible imminent demise. But to really change everything that needs change and to heal all wounds of my soul the way I know I really should and indeed want to – this is not so easy to do.
 
So when I think about what would be if I were suddenly called before God with all these blemishes on my soul, I become gripped by panic and terror. I am not nearly as afraid of death, even a premature one, as I am afraid of this specter.
 
But the truth is, why am I afraid to face God just in higher worlds with my blemished soul and not embarrassed to face Him on earth? Who knows? Perhaps God has already rejected my soul and banished it far out of His Presence.
 
There is nothing left for me to do other than to cry out to Him: “God! Save me because I’m drowning!”[6]
 
*
Shalosh Seudos: The Weekly Yom Kippur
 
It has sometimes happened to me at a shalosh seudos that I don’t know where I’ve been until now. I feel as though I have been hidden away somewhere or that I have hidden myself from facing God, and suddenly here I am – standing before Him face-to-face. I feel that God is then looking straight at me, His awareness penetrating right through me. His penetrating vision seems to spot and bear witness to my every blemish.
 
I am gripped by shame and terror. I would try to hide myself among the crowd of people, maybe under the table, but where can I hide from God? Wherever I hide, there You are. My secret refuge is filled with Your Presence. And when I reach the singing of Mizmor Le-David (Tehillim 23) – “I shall not fear for You are with me” – my tongue freezes and is unable to continue. How dare I leave my shelter of shame to identify with God and say, “for You are with me”? I feel at that moment that God is looking upon me with such censuring pity that it eats up my heart and stings my entire body.
 
And then sometimes I am overwhelmed by such a shame that I almost lose all my spirits. I then clearly see my lowly state of being; whatever good points I may have are nothing when experiencing God’s Presence. I then feel like a lowly worm that brags about how strong and beautiful its holes in the ground are until it sees the palaces built by humans. What a joke all its underground tunnels are compared to the palaces of humans! Whatever holiness and purity of soul I am capable of attaining are nothing before the Ultimate Pure Being. How insignificant they are before Him to Whom even the heavens are unrefined.
 
Yet none of these feelings were new insights – I had known it all before. But then, I only knew. Now, at this shalosh seudos, it was real; there was God’s holy Presence right before me, pressing my very being. And in front of His dazzling Presence the peak of my enlightenment became darkened.
My being melts away. I have lost sense of selfness; I have no existence of my own. But my soul takes courage, come what may. I cry out: “Even in the depths of Hell I shall not fear, for You are with me!”
 
Like the retarded son of the king who calls to his father while playing with his kind – will not the king come to fetch him? He may not be worthy of royal treatment, but rather than risk royal shame, the king will respond to his cry. That’s how I feel. Whether You save me or not, my heart yearns to be close to You. To call You by name is so pleasant to me, my entire being cries out to You. My soul may be darkened, filled with impurity; still You, Father, will rush to my comfort. How can You stand by as Your Divine Name is shamed when from Hell resounds my cry, “FATHER!”
 
“Even in the depths of Hell I shall not fear, for You are right there with me!”
 
Each shalosh seudos is different. Sometime I only feel brokenhearted, sometimes also the ensuing self-encouragement. But when I get to singing Ein ke-Elokeinu – “There is none like our God” – my soul always becomes strengthened and contented, not out of any feeling of self-fulfillment, just out of the privilege to serve the Infinite Creator. He has appointed me, out of no merit of my own, to declare His Greatness and Oneness to Creation. My broken-heartedness is thus transformed into bliss and resolution as I declare it before all of Creation. To the heavens, the earth, to humans and lower life, even to the dust that is under my feet, I say, “Listen and I shall tell you: Ein ke-Elokeinu!”
 
And then at the peak of my bliss and resolution, the flames of my soul soar up before God: Ata Hu Elokeinu – “You are our Master!”
 
Finally, when the Shabbat has passed its climax and candles are brought to light up the night, I find myself a different person. I realize how necessary it all was: the broken-heartedness at the beginning and the bliss that came afterward are one process, one purification. So I continue to wonder why people do not get as excited about going to the weekly shalosh seudos as they do about going to Kol Nidrei.[7]
 
*
 
The Rebbe’s Somersaults
 
When a Jewish person reveals from within himself his inherent holiness with which to serve his Creator, then every act that he does for God, even self-initiated service, becomes for that time actually holy. And these physical acts, performed as divine service, will in turn sanctify his physical body.
 
How else can you explain why I became so enthused when I decided to somersault in honor of the sefer Torah? Why else did my whole body become so energized when I saw the place where I would dance and my whole body shook with excitement?
 
Frequently, a Jew’s yearning is ignited far beyond the normal level of his service. His soul then yearns to perform some great act for God, but his heart is broken from the reality of his normal service. And even when his soul is not inflamed to actual self-sacrifice, it yearns for self-transcendence: If only now I were able to perform some act that would lift me out of myself! If only now I were able to extract my very being from my normal self, I would soar up straight to the heavens.
 
When I started preparing myself to attend the sefer Torah dedication ceremony, my yearning already had begun to flare. The thought that such an awesomely holy and joyous occasion might come only once in my lifetime started to burn within me. I wanted very much to do something for God. “Right! I will rejoice in awe and dance with all my might. No, that may be nice, but my soul is still not pacified. This is not the great act suitable for such an awesome occasion.”
 
Then the idea came to me to somersault as the lowly peasants do for their masters. But a counter-voice spoke up within me: “What sort of service are you trying to do; what is the reason for it? Do you really think it matters to God whether or not you do somersaults? And perhaps you might even hurt yourself or damage your health. Will you not look like a fool doing somersaults in front of all those people?”
 
Then form the depths of my heart I screamed at this voice: “God destroy you, forces of evil! This is no time for second thoughts – the moment is great, it is unique, and it is passing. To do some act of self-sacrifice for God is what I want, and you have only helped me to find it. The very act that you seek to intimidate me from doing because of health or personal reasons, that is the act I choose to do and I now hallow myself in preparation.”
 
From that moment on, this self-contrived, unsophisticated act became for me a holy service. It was now very clear in my eyes, and I surrendered myself completely to it. My conscious thoughts had just begun to wonder how I would somersault, when the flames of my soul engulfed me to self-sacrifice. No more did I imagine any simple somersault, but now God’s altar shone before me. The place where the procession was about to pass became hallowed with the flames of holy fire. I felt as if my blood were bubbling while my tears were pouring forth.
 
By whom and how did this simple act become hallowed for the moment? Why did my entire body shake with fervor and become then also hallowed? It must be my “sparks,” my potential spiritual energy, that were now being expressed in reality. The simplest Jew has such sparks. I greatly rejoiced later on to learn that King David also somersaulted before the Holy Ark (Bamidbar Rabba 4:20, Etz Yosef).
 
But maybe I did fool myself. Maybe my act did not become hallowed for the moment. Maybe it was all my own imagination. The truth is that I did not have the spiritual experience I anticipated and the state of being I felt so sure to attain, I did not. But God help me from such self-doubt; this is also a self-destructive maneuver, to question what one feels and sees. How can one deny a real inner experience? I know that every time I sit down to learn, I feel God’s Presence around me. It feels as if His Light is filling my mind, my heart, my very innards and even deeper. Was it not being moved by this feeling that I decided to sing Adon Olam? I was sure my ego would dissolve, my very being would melt, and I would become filled instead with God’s Presence. The entire world would then be for me just a spark of God, shining from His brilliance.
 
Yes, I did not attain what I felt sure I would. I guess I do not yet know myself. I may feel that I am aware of my lowly level, but I must be still ego-driven; I expected more than my capability. Nevertheless, what I did experience was real, because even the self-contrived service of the simplest Jew becomes hallowed for the moment.[8]
 
*
 
Talking to Creation
 
When I had left the Friday night Shabbat table I gave up – no one had been listening anyway. So I began to talk to the universe. I opened my window and I saw an entire world just waiting for someone to acknowledge its beauty. I was then about to recite the bedtime keriat Shema, so I spoke to the world and cried out to it, “Shema Yisrael… God is One!”
 
I continued reciting: “Enlighten the world with Your glory… Blessed be God by day, blessed is He by night… Adon Olam, Master of the universe, Who reigned before Creation… When all came into being through His will, then He was called the Ultimate King…”
 
The entire Creation seemed to be taking in each holy word and thought as I expressed it. I became greatly encouraged and all my insights and feelings returned to me.
 
Now, whether by myself or with people, whether or not anyone is listening, I speak instead to the world, to God’s world, rather than to people.
 
And when the world itself will reveal its holiness, perhaps then also its inhabitants will become hallowed with it. Then, from the far corners of the earth, songs to God will they all be singing.[9]
 
*
 
The Illness, Recovery, and Death of the Rebbe’s Son
 
[The following passage covers a period of a few years, starting with the illness of R. Kalonymus’s son, Elimelekh. Tragically, after finally overcoming acute illness, his son was killed in the war.]
 
The gall bladder stones that my son had suffered from for several years became worse after the summer of 5695 [1935]. From the Festival season onward, he hardly got out of bed. Then, on the 14th of Kislev [Dec. 10, 1935], we had to have him brought urgently to the hospital…
 
The doctors then said it was only a matter of hours, but praised be the Name of God, on the 28th of Tevet [Jan. 23], he improved again. Then he came down with other illnesses, among them pneumonia, but miracle of miracles, God in His mercy cured him of these illnesses as well. Everyone, even the atheists, saw the greatness of God and were forced to believe and to praise Him.
 
In order to give praise and thanksgiving to God, even as a token, for all His great mercy on us, I have written the following memoirs. The metaphors I have used to depict the suffering we went through are not exaggerations at all. Rather, our suffering was so great that it seemed to take physical form in my eyes, and it is those forms that I am describing…
 
Esh Kodesh wedding of son
[ Invitation to the wedding of R. Kalonymus’s son]
 
Please, God, accept now my deep desire to praise You, as You accepted the songs of the prophets. May the pulse of my yearning heart be as sweet in Your ears as was the music played by the Levites in the Temple…
 
God! Merciful and benevolent! Since my childhood, my life has been full of pain. While still a young child, my enemies – worries and troubles – had already broken my strength and spirits. I was a little child when I was orphaned; I barely knew my father, the tzaddik that he was. I did not merit that my father, this holy and saintly man, should raise me. But God! Despite this I have no complaints or resentment toward You. You are righteous in all that You do, and if not for Your consistent kindness throughout my troubles, I would surely have been lost in my sorrows…
 
I look again at the child. Is it movement or, God forbid, the throes of death? His condition is worsening, his breathing heavier; my entire being trembles and disintegrates. My heart feels as if some hand is squeezing it without mercy – just squeeze a little harder and my heart will stop…
 
Now I sit still and silent. The intensity of pain is beyond bearing – I am broken beyond repair. After receiving God’s gracious gift, our dear and beloved son, a sincere and outstanding Torah scholar, wise and straightforward, noble and refined, deeply attached to me at the soul level (he would have been ready to sacrifice his life for me), after God saw our dire plight and returned us this dear gift by healing our son from his serious illness, it was decreed in Heaven a harsh decree, a very bitter one, to take him from me in 5700 [1939] at the outbreak of the war. On the 12th of Tishrei [Oct. 7], during the bombing, he was mortally wounded; he was standing near me. A few days later, on the second day of Sukkot, the 16th of Tishrei [Oct. 11], he returned his pure and holy soul to his Maker.
 
Also at that time, my daughter-in-law, his wife, was killed while standing outside the hospital. That was on the 13th of Tishrei [Oct 8]. Her name was Gittel, daughter of R. Shlomo Chaim of Balichav. All hope for myself and my soul both in this world and the next was aborted with their premature deaths. And my own future in them through their continued spiritual growth was also destroyed for me. The tragedy is too great to bear – only You, God, can sustain and encourage me with Your wonders.
 
“Kindness is Yours, God, and the shame is mine” – my own misdeeds have brought this on me. Compassionate Father, You know the heart of a father toward his beloved son… Nevertheless, I now take courage to thank You for this precious gift You gave us. You even added nearly four full years to his life after his illness. I praise You and extol You for this beloved treasure that You gave us for thirty-one years. How happy I was then – the sun’s rays dimmed in my eyes compared to the pure shine I saw in his face…
 
Master of the universe! Call a stop to our suffering! May these dear departed souls, together with all the past suffering of the deceased and the living, atone for all our sins. Have mercy from now on, God, on each of us and on the Jewish People – grant us only good things from now on. May I myself be included with all my family and friends among the Jewish People to receive Your kindness. Grant us right now the eternal redemption, rebirth of the dead, and a complete physical and spiritual salvation. Amen.[10]
 
 
Translated by Kaeren Fish
 

[1] For more on the journals of Jewish mystics at the time of R. Kalonymus, see S. Cherlow, “Ha-Nisgavot Mevakshot Lamo Milim: Yomanim Ishi’im shel Mistikanim Yehudim Be-Me’ah Ha-Esrim,” Da’at 63 (5768), pp. 103-130.
[2] Tzav Ve-Ziruz, p. 321 (= To Heal the Soul, pp. 1-2).
[3] In a letter that he wrote to a yeshiva student, he included an excerpt from Zav ve-Ziruz (Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 448); likewise, in a talk that he gave to his disciples on the seventh day of Pesach in 5681, he mentions Tzav Ve-Ziruz as a familiar source that may be quoted (Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 449). This would seem to suggest that R. Kalonymus had intended to publish the booklet, including the personal portions of it, for his manuscript offers no indication of any distinction between different parts of the book. His family members, who had the book published, would seem to have reached the same conclusion.
[4] Derekh Ha-Melekh, p. 449.
[5] Tzav Ve-Ziruz, pp. 337-338 (= To Heal the Soul, pp. 45-46).
[6] Ibid., pp. 335-336 (= Ibid. 41-42).
[7] Ibid. pp. 341-343 (= ibid. 61-63).
[8] Ibid., pp. 343-345 (= ibid. pp. 65-68).
[9] Ibid., p. 387 (= Ibid. pp. 147-148).
[10] Ibid., 367-377 (= Ibid. pp. 103-118).
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

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