Showing posts with label kabbalah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kabbalah. Show all posts

Monday, June 2, 2014

Broken Tablets: A Study Guide for Shavuot

Rabbi Mishael Zion | Text and the City | Shavuot / Behaalotcha 2014

Symbols, metaphors and old texts lay strewn around the warehouses of culture, waiting to be picked up again, turned useful, regain value. For one night in the Jewish calendar, the warehouse becomes the focus: Tikkun Leil Shavuot. We stay up all night in the flea market treasure hunt which is Jewish text study. As for me, each year I find myself returning to the stall which houses texts about one metaphor: the Broken Tablets. A fitting image for our time, on many levels. For this Shavuot, I collected my favorite findings on this metaphor in the format of a study guide. I humbly offer it here, to adorn your Shavuot learning.
Since I couldn’t help myself, I added my own play-by-play commentary on these texts, and a few brief words about learning on Shavuot, which appear below.
Download the study guide in printable pdf format or read them online.

Broken Tablets, Play-by-play
Whatever happened to the Broken Tablets, those shards which Moshe resoundingly left strewn at the bottom of Mount Sinai? Reminders of the sweaty idolatrous sin which broke up God’s honeymoon with the Jewish people, perhaps they are best left to be covered by the sands of Sinai. Those First Tablets, which were “written by the finger of God” left unmentioned for two thousand years. Until one Talmudic Rabbi, Rav Yosef, picks them up and resets their place in Jewish tradition.
The Tablets AND the Broken Tablets are placed in the ark” innovates Rav Yosef (in Bava Batra 14b). Does he intend for us to carry the First Tablets as eternal signs of our guilt and adultery at the Golden Calf, as Augustine would have it? Or perhaps the shards of Holiness regain similar status to Whole Holiness. Or perhaps, that which was created by Human Hand (the second tablets), carries the same centrality as that created by Divine Hands. Or perhaps, that which was broken so long ago, we cannot let go of it. We must continue to carry it around with us, for better or for worse.
The Talmud in Menahot turns this teaching in a statement about human dignity, and the dignity of scholarship: “Rav Yosef taught that … The Tablets and the broken tablets are placed in the ark. From here we learn that a scholar who has forgotten his learning with time, we do not treat disrespectfully.” (Menahot 99a) The sign of sin becomes the lesson of dignity. We must treat the broken person, the Altzheimered scholar, the aging, broken or lost among us – with the same dignity and honor with which we treat those who are considered whole. Both have equal value in Holy Ark.
Eliyahu de Vidash comes out of Kabbalistic Tsfat with a new understanding. “The human heart is the Ark, thus a person’s heart must be full of Torah but simultaneously be a Broken Heart, a beaten heart. Only thus can it serve as a home for the Divine Presence. For She only dwells in broken vessels.” (Reshit Hokhma). The Ark becomes the Heart, and theology and history become psychology. More importantly, the Tablets aren’t broken, Divinity is. And is we are to becoming a dwelling place for Her, we too much be of the Broken Vessels. The post hoc becomes aspirational, and the imperfect – divine.
Samuel Beck, "Thou Shalt Not Kill", 1970;
Yad VaShem Collection of Post-Holocaust Art
And then Faith breaks. Modernity, Enlightenment, or simply life. For the Hasidic Reb Natan of Nemirov, the Broken Tablets are a necessary part of the process: “Through broken tablets, i.e. broken faith, by means of that brokenness itself the faith returns and amends itself, which is the second tablets.” The First Tablets are broken, so broken. But that is not the end of the story. They are a crucial part of the path towards the creation of Second Tablets, Second Naivete. There is no such thing as unbroken faith, just as there is no such thing as unbroken love. By grasping the brokenness the new tablets can be achieved. Tikkun requires some breakage.

Download the study guide in printable pdf format or read them online.

Brief words about learning on Shavuot
On this night we don’t just do any learning, says the Zohar, rather the learning must be that of “beading”,חריזה, which in the Zohar is usually described with a different Hebrew word – Tikkun (lit. preparing, fixing). The study companions become a group of bridesmaids, lovingly and joyfully preparing the adornments for the princess on the night before she is to enter to wed the King. Lovingly they bead together texts one to the other. From words of Torah to the Prophets, from the Prophets to the Talmud, from the Talmud to the realm of the Hidden – the skilled jeweler quickly assembles a radiant necklace. It is with such hidushim, innovations, and tikunim, prepared adornments, that the bride enters her Shavuot bridal canopy. And in this way the Torah is given anew each year, each day. As long as we reassemble these jewels and bead them together in myriad ways, as long as we do so in a way which aims to please the Bride and Groom, then we are playing our role in the mystical drama which is the Cosmos.

Broken Tablets: A Study Guide for Shavuot

A.       Deuteronomy 10:1-4
At that time the LORD said unto me: 'Hew thee two tables of stone like unto the first, and come up unto Me into the mount; and make thee an ark of wood. And I will write on the tablets which you smashed, and place them in the ark.'
So I made an ark of acacia-wood, and hewed two tables of stone like unto the first, and went up into the mount, having the two tables in my hand.
And He wrote on the tables according to the first writing, the ten words, which the LORD spoke unto you in the mount out of the midst of the fire in the day of the assembly; and the LORD gave them unto me.
בָּעֵת הַהִוא אָמַר ה' אֵלַי, פְּסָל-לְךָ שְׁנֵי-לוּחֹת אֲבָנִים כָּרִאשֹׁנִים, וַעֲלֵה אֵלַי, הָהָרָה; וְעָשִׂיתָ לְּךָ, אֲרוֹן עֵץ. וְאֶכְתֹּב, עַל-הַלֻּחֹת אֶת הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר הָיוּ עַל-הַלֻּחֹת הָרִאשֹׁנִים אֲשֶׁר שִׁבַּרְתָּ וְשַׂמְתָּם בָּאָרוֹן.
וָאַעַשׂ אֲרוֹן עֲצֵי שִׁטִּים, וָאֶפְסֹל שְׁנֵי-לֻחֹת אֲבָנִים כָּרִאשֹׁנִים; וָאַעַל הָהָרָה, וּשְׁנֵי הַלֻּחֹת בְּיָדִי.
וַיִּכְתֹּב עַל-הַלֻּחֹת כַּמִּכְתָּב הָרִאשׁוֹן, אֵת עֲשֶׂרֶת הַדְּבָרִים, אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר יְהוָה אֲלֵיכֶם בָּהָר מִתּוֹךְ הָאֵשׁ, בְּיוֹם הַקָּהָל; וַיִּתְּנֵם ה' אֵלָי.
B.       Talmud Bavli Bava Batra 14b
Rav Yosef taught: “The tablets which you broke and place them in the ark” – this teaches that the Tablets and the broken tablets are placed in the ark.
תני רב יוסף: "אשר שברת ושמתם" - מלמד שהלוחות ושברי לוחות מונחין בארון [...]
תלמוד בבלי בבא בתרא יד ע"א-ע"ב

C.        Talmud Bavli Menahot 99a
Rav Yosef taught: “The tablets which you broke and place them in the ark” – this teaches that the Tablets and the broken tablets are placed in the ark.
From here we learn that a scholar who has forgotten his learning out of force, we do not treat him disrespectfully.
"אשר שברת ושמתם בארון" תני רב יוסף: מלמד שהלוחות ושברי לוחות מונחין בארון, מכאן לתלמיד חכם ששכח תלמודו מחמת אונסו שאין נוהגין בו מנהג בזיון. תלמוד בבלי מסכת מנחות דף צט/א

D.       Reshit Hokhma, R. Eliyahu deVidash, Gate of Holiness 7; 16th C Kabbalistic Moral tome
The Zohar teaches that the human heart is the Ark. And it is known that in the Ark were stored both the Tablets and the Broken Tablets. Similarly, a person’s heart must be full of Torah… and similarly, a person’s heart must be a broken heart, a beaten heart, so that it can serve as a home for the Shekhina. For the Shekhina [divine presence] only dwells in broken vessels, which are the poor, whose heart is a broken and beaten heart. And whoever has a haughty heart propels the Shekhina from him, as it says “God detests those of haughty hearts”.

ועוד נלמוד מדברי הרשב"י שאמר שכיס הלב הוא הארון, ונודע הוא שבתוך הארון היו הלוחות ושברי לוחות, כן ראוי שיהיה לבו מלא תורה... וכנגד שברי לוחות צריך שיהיה לבו לב נשבר ונדכה שיהיה מכון לשכינה, שהשכינה מושבה הם מאנין תבירין דילה [=כלים שבורים שלה], והם העניים שלבם לב נשבר ונדכה, ומי שלבו מתגאה עליו דוחה השכינה מעליו שנאמר תועבת ה' כל גבה לב.
ספר ראשית חכמה - שער הקדושה - פרק שביעי


E.        R. Natan of Nemirov, Likkutei Halakhot, 19th Century Hassid, student of Reb Nachman of Breslov, Shabbat 6
And this is the meaning of the verse “Which you broke and place in the Ark”, about which our Sages said: “the Tablets and the Broken Tablets are placed in the Ark”. By means of the aspect of broken tablets, broken faith, by means of that brokenness itself the faith returns and amends itself, which is the second tablets.
Because thanks to the existence of a shard of the broken faith, by keeping that shard he is fulfilling the advice of the faith itself which was broken – and he can return and repair that faith which is the aspect of receiving second tablets.

וְזֶהוּ בְּחִינַת אֲשֶׁר שִׁבַּרְתָּ וְשַֹמְתָּם בָּאָרוֹן וְאָמְרוּ חֲכָמֵנוּ זִכְרוֹנָם לִבְרָכָה, לוּחוֹת וְשִׁבְרֵי לוּחוֹת מֻנָּחִים בָּאָרוֹן. הַיְנוּ עַל - יְדֵי בְּחִינַת שִׁבְרֵי לוּחוֹת בְּחִינַת אֱמוּנָה הַשְּׁבוּרָה, עַל - יְדֵי - זֶה בְּעַצְמָהּ חָזַר וְנִתְתַּקֵּן הָאֱמוּנָה מֵחָדָשׁ שֶׁהֵם בְּחִינַת הַלּוּחוֹת שְׁנִיּוֹת, בִּבְחִינַת שָׁקַל פִּסְקָא שָׁדָא לְהוּ וְכוּ', כִּי עַל - יְדֵי שֶׁנִּשְׁאַר בּוֹ אֵיזֶה נְקוּדָה מֵהָאֱמוּנָה הַשְּׁבוּרָה עַל - יְדֵי - זֶה מְקַיֵּם הָעֵצָה שֶׁל חֲכָמִים שֶׁנִּשְׁבְרָה אֱמוּנָתָם אֶצְלוֹ וְחוֹזֵר וּמְתַקֵּן הָאֱמוּנָה שֶׁהִיא בְּחִינַת קַבָּלַת לוּחוֹת שְׁנִיּוֹת. כִּי כָּל קַבָּלַת הַתּוֹרָה עוֹמֶדֶת עַל אֱמוּנָה, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב, כָּל מִצְוֹתֶיךָ אֱמוּנָה, וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב, בָּא חֲבַקּוּק וְהֶעֱמִידָן עַל אֱמוּנָה וְכוּ' הַיְנוּ כַּנַּ"ל:
ספר ליקוטי הלכות - הלכות שבת הלכה ו


F.        R. Yitzhak Arama, Akeidat Yitzhak, 15th century Spain
Why didn’t God sculpt the second tablets, the way He sculpted the first ones? Because that which is totally Divine is not sustainable in the hands of humans. Therefor the first tablets, which were “made by God and written by God”, were not sustainable. Therefore God told Moses “sculpt [the second Tablets] for yourself” – you make them and I will shape them, thus retaining both the shape and image of the first ones, but these will be sustainable.

למה לא פסלם הקדוש ברוך הוא בעצמו – כראשונים? לפי שהדברים האלוהיים בהחלט אין להם קיום אצל בני אדם, לפיכך לא נתקיימו הלוחות הראשונים ש"הלוחות מעשה אלוהים המה והמכתב מכתב אלוהים הוא" (ל"ב ט"ז), לכן "פסל לך" ועשה אתה את גופן ואני אתן את צורתן. ועם זה יהיו מדמותן וצלמם ויתקיימו אצלם.
ר' יצחק עראמה, עקדת יצחק


Thursday, January 9, 2014

Release, Please: A Poem for the “Shabbat of Poetry”

Rabbi Mishael Zion | Text and the City | BeShalach Shabbat Shira 2014

Release, please

Release, please, this bound one
By the power of your right hand
Receive the song of your people,
      Exalt us, Lord, and make us
pure. Almighty one, protect
      those who seek your oneness:
Bless them, and cleanse them – bestow
      Upon them your merciful justice.
Mighty one, holy one, in your
      Goodness guide your assembly.
Turn, sole one on high,
      To those who remember your sanctity,
And accept our cry and plea –
      You who fathom all mysteries.

Translation by Peter Cole

Translation is merely a preliminary way of coming to terms
with the foreignness of languages to each other.
Walter Benjamin, The Task of the Translator

This Shabbat is known as “Shabbat Shira”, the Shabbat of Song, thus named because we read the Song at the Sea, perhaps the first Hebrew poem. This month many Bronfmanim have committed to study a book of poetry in honor of Edgar Bronfman (other are studying Mishna Pirkei Avot or one of two books). I have been plowing through a new anthology of Hebrew Mystical Verse, with Hebrew original and new translation side by side. It is there that I came across the above translation.
I often find that poem’s are locked to me, until I read them in translation. The translations’ attempt to –as Benjamin described it - “find the intention toward the language into which the work has been translated” allows “an echo of the original [to] be awakened”. I guess I see the light of a poem best through the dull refractions of a translation.
Those who fathom mysteries might have recognized the source of the poem quoted above: the Hebrew poem “Ana b’Koach”, which appears in numerous places in the Siddur. Here are two translations and the original, side by side:
Release, please, this bound one
By the power of your right hand
Receive the song of your people,
      Exalt us, Lord, and make us
pure. Almighty one, protect
      those who seek your oneness:
Bless them, and cleanse them – bestow
      Upon them your merciful justice.
Mighty one, holy one, in your
      Goodness guide your assembly.
Turn, sole one on high,
      To those who remember your sanctity,
And accept our cry and plea –
      You who fathom all mysteries.

Translation by Peter Cole, The Poetry of Kabbalah: Mystical Verse from the Jewish Tradition, 2012, pg. 35

אָנָּא בְּכֹחַ גְּדֻלַּת
 יְמִינְֶךָ תַּתִּיר צְרוּרָה
קַבֵּל רִנַּת עַמְֶּךָ
שַׂגְּבֵנוּ טַהֲרֵנוּ נוֹרָא
נָא גִבּוֹר דּוֹרְשֵׁי
יִחוּדְֶךָ כְּבָבַת שָׁמְרֵם
בָּרְכֵם טַהֲרֵם רַחֲמֵי
צִדְקָתֶךָ תָּמִיד גָּמְלֵם
חֲסִין קָדוֹשׁ בְּרוֹב
טוּבְךָ נַהֵל עֲדָתֶךָ
יָחִיד גֵּאֶה לְעַמְּךָ
פְּנֵה זוֹכְרֵי קְדֻשָּׁתֶךָ
שַׁוְעָתֵנוּ קַבֵּל וּשְׁמַע
צַעֲקָתֵנוּ יוֹדֵעַ תַּעֲלוּמוֹת



This poem has enchanted readers for centuries with its opening phrase in Hebrew: : אנא, בכח “Please, by the power”. “Oxymoron of oxymorons” as one Israeli poetdescribed it. This opening phrase has enchanted modern Hebrew poets as they employed it in various means. Please, with power. Please, without power. Please, softly; Please, with full force. Please.
But Cole, our translator, has flipped the order of the words, releasing something which seems to recover a new "echo of the original":
Release, please, this bound oneBy the power of your right hand
In Cole’s rendition, the focus is not on the power, but on the bound one, and its need to be released. Who is the bound one? In one new Siddur, the following explicit translation is preferred:
Please, by the power of Your great right hand
        Set the captive nation free.
“The bound one” becomes “the captive nation”, losing the nuance and double meaning which has propelled this song for generations. In Hebrew liturgy the bound one refers just as much to a person’s soul – bound in the twine of the physical body – as it refers to the bind of exile. And what is that exile, that captiveness? The exile of the Jewish people, or the exile of God herself, the exile of the Shekhina. Truly, in the mind of the Kabbalists, those three are all one. כולא חד – an individual’s soul, the Jewish people, God’s feminine presence in this world – they are all metonymic of each other, all echoes of something greater than all three, yet equally present in every individual’s existence. And it is that bind for which we ask release.
As the poem continues, it weaves power and gentleness, protection and prowess. From the first “please”, it cajoles the powerful God into a different dynamic. God’s powerful right hand, which appears in the Song of the Sea with all its scary might – נָטִיתָ יְמִינְךָ תִּבְלָעֵמוֹ אָרֶץ – “You stretched out your right-hand / the Underworld swallowed them” (Exodus 15:12) is asked to engage in the most delicate of tasks.
Nuance is everywhere. The Jewish people are described as those who “seek your oneness” (not those who know anything for certain). God – as one who “fathoms all mysteries” (so different from, say, “knower of truth”). The “mighty one” is asked merely to “guide”. The “sole one” – to “turn”. The “fathomer of all mysteries” – to “accept”. Asking God to make us pure, we seek to be cleansed. Yet the image this conjures is that of a parent washing a baby, the full force of the adult body honed into an almost painful delicateness as it handles the fragile bundle. In Cole’s echoing, “Release, please” the image is of an amazingly powerful force minimizing itself (tzimtzum!) in order to very gently unwind a tightly knotted ball of string.

This poem has a long and clouded history. Scholars squabble if it was written in the 16th century Galilee, 12th century Germany, or 9th century Babylonia. Tradition claims it harkens back to 2nd century Judea. What is known is that this poem is actually a poetic encoding of God’s 42 letter name (as opposed to, say, the seventy-two letter version, or the four letter one). In Hebrew the poem consists of seven lines with six words each – totaling 42 words – the first letters of which make up the 42-letter name. It is with this name that God created the world, says the Talmud (In case you’re curious, it begins אבגיתצקרעשטנ…). Being the most potent of names, it must be hidden from humans, who might abuse its power for their narrow-minded intentions. The best place to hide the name is, of course, in plain view, so it was encoded into poetry. Here’s a challenge: take these 42 letters and try to write a poem using them as the first letter of each word. Over the generations, various poets attempted to write poems which begin with those specific letters (such as אנא באש גבורת ידך תלהט צרי). It is the Kabbalists soduko.
Most of those poems have been left to languish in musty manuscripts. A handful were published. Ana b’Koach is the only one to receive inter-generational success, even becoming a hit on Israeli radio a few years back. With its mixture of Nuance and mystery alongside clarity and potency, it has managed to transcend the math and mysticism and become its own being. In some siddurim it appears in as many as 13 different places.
The poem is recited at times of liminality, those times which are “betwixt and between”: before falling asleep, or just as the soul leaves a body. Most prominently, it is recited just before Lecha Dodi, during Kabbalat Shabbat, at the exact moment between the work-week and the holy-day. Times of transition are times of vulnerability, times in which we feel the fact that we are “in a bind”. Whether it is the call of freedom, or the burden of constriction, we feel the weight of our boundedness most deeply. It is from there that we call out: “Release, please”. Or at the very least: loosen the straps on our existence.

In prayerbooks – but not in the original poem – an additional line is added: “Blessed by the name of His
glorious kingdom for ever and all time.” ברוך שם כבוד מלכותו לעולם ועד – the same response as is said upon reciting God’s explicit name, or after the first line of the Sh’ma. A version of this sentence, said in Aramaic, makes for the famous responsive line of the Kaddish – יהא שמיה רבה מבורך לעולם ולעולמי עולמיא Yehey Shmey Rabba…
With its beginning and ending, this poem evokes a different one, from Leonard Cohen’s “Book of Mercy”:
Sit down, master, on this rude chair of praises, and rule my nervous heart with your great decrees of freedom. Out of time you have taken me to do my daily task. Out of mist and dust you have fashioned me to know the numberless worlds between the crown and the kingdom. In utter defeat I came to you and you received me with a sweetness I had not dared to remember. Tonight I come to you again, soiled by strategies and trapped in the loneliness of my tiny domain. Establish your law in this walled place. Let nine men come to lift me into their prayer so that I may whisper with them: Blessed be the name of the glory of the kingdom forever and forever.
Shabbat Shalom,
Mishael