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Sunday, December 13, 2009

Song of Songs: The Secret Meaning is the Plain Meaning

[Illustration from Die Bucher der Bibel, by Ephraim Moses Lilien]

Today we assume the proper way to read Scripture is for it's plain (and/or historical) meaning. This way of reading started to appear in the Middle Ages and accelerated with the Reformation. While rarely acknowledged, however, the plain sense of Scripture often presents problems. Take Shir ha-Shirim/Song of Songs (or Song of Solomon, or Canticles), for example. The plain meaning is - - there is nothing 'religious' at all about this book. It's a collection of ancient love poems, maybe even wedding poems. But it never mentions God, it teaches no ethics, it contains no metaphysics beyond the romantic assertion that "love is stronger than death." In short, we all know, its only rock 'n roll....

Modern fundamentalist churches, I've noticed, try to teach it, but even if they are "six-day creation," "sun stood still," "walk-on-water" literalists, they immediately abandon the obvious meaning when it comes to the SofS. Within a breath or two, all these hot-guy-pursues-lusting-maiden lyrics become a symbolic representation of Christ and the church.

In doing so, they revert to the now much poo-pooed but indispensable medieval strategy of "allegorical" reading. I don't fault the preachers for surrendering their fundamentalism in the face of this work. In order to make religion out of this stuff, one has to get allegorical. In fact, the book was probably included in the canon in the first place only because the Rabbis were persuaded that reading it allegorically as the love between Israel and God is the only real meaning.

For most of its interpretive history, in fact, the Bible has been treated as a cryptic text. The Jewish assumption has been that it operates on (at least) two levels, the niglah and nistar (The revealed and concealed). And Song of Songs was held to be the most esoteric of all the canon, because it has no niglah, only nistar. Thus the medieval Jewish commentator ibn Kaspi wrote:
Solomon, a"h, composed three books which we possess, corresponding to three types of discourse....entirely open and literal....entirely hidden, with nothing revealed...
the third has both hidden and revealed....Song of Songs is the second type...
(Commentary to Song of Songs)1

But once you claim to hold the key to unlock the secret treasure (i.e., "Its about God and Israel" or "God and the soul") then you have explain the parabolic meaning of all the figures, symbols, or imagery - what do the "garden," "nut," or "breasts" refer to? In Judaism, this has led to a vast array of interpretive strategies and conclusions. Here are just a cross-section:
A Love-Dialogue Between God and the Community Israel
This usually assumes that the images are all related in some way to events of the Exodus (Midrash Song of Songs) or to the entire arc of Jewish history, from Abraham to the Messiah (Targum Song of Songs)
A Dialgoue Between God and the Soul
This Neo-Platonic perspective is the primary focus of Issak ibn Sahula's 13th Century commentary.
A Dialogue Between the Torah and its Disciples
This reading is, to my knowledge, only to be found in the writings of Solomon Alkabetz (16th Century)
A Dialogue Between the Material and the Intellect
This scholastic-philosophic interpretation is exemplified in the commentary of Gersonides (14th Cent.)
An Dialogue Between the Feminine and Masculine Aspects of Divinity
This Kabbalistic reading begins (as far as I know) with Ezra of Gerona (13th Century). The Zohar includes this interpretation in Zohar Hadash.

In a following entry I will further explore SoS by providing a couple of sample readings to illustrate some of these interpretive strategies.

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050
1. Berlin, Biblical Poetry Through Medieval Jewish Eyes, p. 105.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

JMMM Ranked 14th Best Jewish Blog on the Internet

I was delighted to receive the news that the OnlineSchools network has honored the Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism Blog as one of the 50 top Jewish blogs in 2010. In fact, the JMMM came in 16th! A great way to finish the secular year. Hag Urim Sameach everyone.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Olam ha-Ba: The World to Come in Judaism

The World-to-Come (Olam ha-Ba; Alma de-Atei) is a general term for those spiritual realms in which humanity will one day be a part (Isa. 64:3 is occasionally cited as a reference to the World-to-Come). Sometimes it refers to a perfected reality that is temporally in the future, i.e., the messianic Kingdom of God, which will follow the advent of the Messiah, a period of interregnum between the advent of the Messiah and the end of the world (Pes. 68a; Ber. 34b; Sanh. 91b). Its duration is indeterminate, with periods as short as 40 and as long as 1000 years being proposed (Sanh. 99a). In this renewed creation, ten things will change: The supernal light of first creation will return, living waters that heal will flow forth form Jerusalem, fruit bearing trees with healing powers will sprout from those waters, all the ruined cities will be rebuilt, Jerusalem will be completely rebuilt out of precious materials, harmony will reign in the animal kingdom, and between animals and humans, suffering will be swept from the world, death will be swallowed up, and all human beings will know wholeness and contentment (Ex. R. 15:2).

At other times the World-to-Come refers to a temporally current spiritual world that surrounds the material world and is the place of the afterlife (Shab. 152a; Tanhuma, Vayikra 8; MT, Bahir 106 (160); Hilkhot Teshuvah 8:8). In this interpretation, it is mysterious and beyond our ken (Ber. 17a; Ex. R. 52:3). In Zohar it emanates from the sefirah of Binah (3:290b). It is a place of unending bliss, though the Sages find themselves in some dialectic tension over this. For some regard the World-to-Come as less interesting and rewarding than this world, since there will be little to do there and no commandments to fulfill (Ber. 17a). Whatever it’s true configuration, the righteous of every nation have a portion in the World-to-Come (P Yev. 15:2; Ber. 17a; Uk. 3:13; B.B. 75a; Shab 152b; Sanh. 90a; Tos. Sanh. 13:12).
For a more personal reflection on Olam ha-Ba, go to my earlier entry: Texas, Hell, and Governor Perry
Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Ancestral Spirits in Israel and Judaism

[The shrine over the Cave of Machpelah, where the Patriarchs and Matriarchs were buried]

The belief in the continuing presence of the dead and their and influence on the living has been, in different forms, a feature of Jewish belief from earliest times. This has led to venerating the ancestral dead, and even cults dedicated to them. The Bible itself refers to such practices as ensuring the dead are gathered together with the clan on ancestral land (Gen. 50:24-25), caring for the dead spirits (Deut. 26:14; Isa. 57:6), and consulting them for occult knowledge (Deut. 18:11; Isa. 8:19-22; 19:3; I Sam. 28:3-25).

It is clear that ancient Israel venerated its dead (Deut. 10:15). Many scholars also believe that the Children of Israel inherited a cult of the ancestral dead, possibly even deified dead, from their Semitic milieu and that it remained a popular belief among Israelites despite the opposition of the Prophets.The burial places of Judges and Rachel may have served as shrine/oracles (Judges 8:30-32, 10:1-15; 12:7-15; Sam. 10:2; Jer. 31:15).

References in the Bible to the ob, (A familiar spirit, possibly derived from the same Hebrew root as "father") has been considered part of that covert tradition. Other scholars argue that a cult of the beneficent dead was introduced by influence of the Assyrians, who were obsessed with necromancy, in the 8th-7th Centuries BCE (Isa. 29:4). From this perspective, all seemingly earlier references found in the Bible are actually anachronisms introduced by later editors.1 The
only clear example of a Biblical figure who, contrary to the proscription of the Torah, consulted the ancestral dead for guidance is that of Saul summoning the dead spirit of the Prophet Samuel (I Samuel 28:4-25). The account clearly illustrates that the author of Samuel believed necromancy was real, though the end results for Samuel were personally disappointing.

With the prophetic verse Jer. 31:15-16 serving as locus classicus, "A cry is heard in Ramah, wailing, bitter weeping, Rachel weeps for her children, she refuses to be comforted...," the Sages of Talmudic times believed that their ancestors were aware of what transpired on earth and would plead before God on behalf of their descendants (Ta’anit 16a; Men. 53b). Midrash Lamentations Rabbah includes a description of Biblical figures like Abraham, Moses, and Rachel interceding before the Divine Throne when God's judgment is being pronounced against Israel (Lam. R. 24). In time this idea of the positive influence of the beneficent dead expanded into the doctrine of zechut avot (the merit of the ancestors), which became canonized in the daily liturgy with the Avot prayer ("You remember the faithfulness of our ancestors and therefore bring redemption to their children's children..."). Sefer Chasidim describes how the dead pray for the living (452). As late as the Zohar, we find the theme of being reunified with one’s relatives is still a prominent expectation of the afterlife (Va-yehi, 218b). In later Kabbalah there is a shift from veneration of biological ancestors to “soul” ancestors (see Reincarnation).

Under the influence of Christian and Muslim saint veneration, the doctrine of zechut avot eventually evolved into a more direct veneration of the meritorious dead, with practices such as praying to them for their intercession in personal matters. The purported graves of many luminaries - Biblical (Rachel's tomb in Bethlehem), Rabbinic (Simon bar Yochai in Meron), Medieval (Meir Baal Nes in Tiberia), and modern (Nachman of Bratzlav) - have become the focus of pilgrimages and prayers for divine intervention among the Ultra-Orthodox. Even the tombs of Jews who would have scoffed at such behavior, like Maimonides, have become destinations for Jewish pilgrims and supplicants.

The custom of graveside veneration endures and thrives to this day in some sects of Judaism, and is extended even to such 20th Century figures as the Moroccan faith healer Baba Sali and the seventh CHaBaD rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson.

1. Schmidt, Israel’s Beneficent Dead, pp. 132-263.

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Fire, Water, and Oil: Lost Jewish Rituals

Over the course of 3500 years, certain rituals and holidays have come and gone, though in the spirit of the ever-dying,

[Igulim v'yashar - water in forms circular and linear]

ever-resurrected people, few holidays go away forever. Here are a couple I think of in light of Sukkot:

The Festival of Wood offering: A holiday mentioned in the Temple Scroll of the Dead Sea Scrolls, evidently inspired by the mundane task of gathering firewood for the altar sacrifices in the Temple, turning it into a sacred occasion. Observed on a solar calendar and evidently performed several times a year it is a holiday unattested to in surviving Jewish tradition and may have been simply part of an idealized, rather than actual, calendar featured in that secterian text. There is some Biblical basis for it once having existed, though (Neh, 10:34-40). The largely defunct annual Rabbinic observance of Tu B'av may be a cognate or competing version of the Qumran custom.

Simchat Beit Hashoeva, or Water Libation or Water Drawing Ceremony: When the Temple stood, one of the rituals of the holiday of Sukkot would be the Water Libation ritual. This theurgic ceremony entailed gathering a jug of water from the Pool of Siloam (an underground spring) and taking it up to the Temple, where it would be poured over the altar in a mimetic act of rainfall. As the drawn water was poured out, this incantation was recited: “Let your waters flow, I hear the voice of two friends [the drawn water calling to its source], as it is said, ‘Abyss calls to abyss in the roar of the channels’” (Tan. 25b). The purpose of the ritual was to draw the underground waters of the abyss toward the surface of the earth, to trigger the fructifying mingling of tellurian (subterranean/circular/feminine) and heavenly (rain/linear/masculine) waters that would allow growth in the coming season (T. Ta'anit 1:4; Ta’anit 10b; PdRE 23).

While the ritual in its ancient form is no longer viable without an altar, today some communities hang onto the party aspect of the ritual and it is an occasion for a concert, dancing, or a community program.

Festival of the First Oil: Another holiday unknown to the normative Jewish calendar but mentioned in the Temple Scroll. It may have its basis in the Biblical list of priestly privileges, however (Num. 18:12-13; Neh, 10:34-40). It is not known whether the holiday was actually ever observed outside the circle of the Dead Sea Scrolls community.

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Friday, September 11, 2009

Hymns to the Divine Warrior, the Hebrew God of Battle

[The Egyptian army drowning, from 1740 illustrated book, found at the British Museum website]

It's interesting to consider how much social context shapes religious rhetoric and the language we use to describe the divine. Take Christianity. In the West it is the religion most associated with pacifism. Indeed, there is considerable rhetoric of forgiveness, turning the other cheek, universal government, and universal love in the Gospels. But few people realize how this rhetoric of universality is grounded in the Gospel writers' lifestyle under the Pax Romana. The hegemony of Rome from the Atlantic to the Euphrates created an unparalleled sense of security and shared identity for the people of the ancient world, a sense of participating in a universal order few people of earlier or later times would know. In a world where war was generally confined to the borderlands of empire, it was much easier to think and talk about life lived without the necessity of violence and war.
By comparison the Hebrew Bible was composed in more unstable times. Israel was a small ethnic group surrounded by aggressive tribal and imperial neighbors. War was a constant anxiety and violence a frequent reality. By necessity, the Israelites were themselves a capable warrior culture, with many tales of great war chieftains (Abraham, Joshua, Ehud, Gideon, Samson, Saul, David, etc.). Yet for the very same reasons, Israelite writings are permeated with dreams of enduring peace, a peace which in their experience would require a massive reordering of the way things were, a divine transcending of the reality they knew.
It should come as no surprise, then, that the God of Israel is sometimes envisioned as a champion who will fight on Israel's behalf, delivering His people from the hands of oppressor nations.
And so it is that we find a literary genre, the poetic hymn to the "Divine Warrior," which appears in different forms in different periods of Israel's history. Derived from Canaanite and Mesopotamian mythic stories of gods like Baal and Marduk, the Divine Warrior poem stereotypically consists of a series of conventional elements:

1) The threat (cosmic, national, or personal)
2) The battle
3) God victorious
4) The divine procession (to Jerusalem, across the desert)
5) Salvation (in this world, not usually in the Christian sense) for the followers
6) The advent of universal peace.[1]

There are many variations on these six conventions. Like any other restrictive form of poetry - iambic pentameter, or hyku - the artistry lies in the twist the writer can put on the conventions: reordering them, inverting them, compressing or expanding a theme against the other. sometimes a writer will not include one or two of these elements as part of his message.
Bible readers are most familiar with this type of hymn in the "Song of the Sea" (Exodus 15), Moses' victory song after crossing the Sea of Reeds and seeing the overwhelming of the pursuing Egyptians:

Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the LORD : "I will sing to the LORD, for he is highly exalted. The horse and its rider he has hurled into the sea.
2 The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. He is my God, and I will praise him, my father's God, and I will exalt him.
3 The LORD is a warrior; the LORD is his name.
4 Pharaoh's chariots and his army he has hurled into the sea. The best of Pharaoh's officers are drowned in the Red Sea….
9 "The enemy boasted, 'I will pursue, I will overtake them. I will divide the spoils; I will gorge myself on them. I will draw my sword and my hand will destroy them.'
10 But you blew with your breath, and the sea covered them. They sank like lead in the mighty waters.
11 "Who among the gods is like you, O LORD ? Who is like you— majestic in holiness, awesome in glory, working wonders?....
13 "In your unfailing love you will lead the people you have redeemed. In your strength you will guide them to your holy dwelling….
17 You will bring them in and plant them on the mountain of your inheritance— the place, O LORD, you made for your dwelling, the sanctuary, O Lord, your hands established.
18 The LORD will reign for ever and ever."


Other examples of the hymn form appear in Josh. 10-11; Ps. 48, 74; Isa. 51: 9-11, 59:15-20, 63-64; Zech. 9.

This is a remarkably flexible and enduring poetic genre. It is used in the Hebrew Scriptures early and late in the Biblical period to address all kinds of conflict: cosmic or national, military or religious, external or internal, struggles literal and metaphoric.


1. See Cross, Frank, "The Divine Warrior in Israel's Early Cult," in Biblical Motifs and Hanson, Paul, The Dawn of Apocalyptic.

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Friday, August 28, 2009

The Girdles of Job: Power Cords

[A modern belt of power]

I recently came across one legend that did not make it into the EJMMM, the legend of the "girdles of Job," three belts or cords of divine craftsmanship.

Mentioned in the Greek language Testament of Job, these girdles were given to Job by God (Job 38:3), curing him of all his ailments and granting him knowledge of future events (why Job needed three is not explained). At his death, Job gave the sashs to his three daughters by Dinah [1], his second wife: Yemima, Ketziah and Keren-Happuch. The belts are described as "three-stringed girdles about the appearance of which no man can speak; For they were not earthly work, but celestial sparks of light flashed through them like the rays of the sun" [2]

Job assured them the garments would act as amulets, protecting them from external dangers and transforming their hearts. When the daughters secured the golden girdles across their chests (over their hearts?), the women knew the language of angels and sang praises in celestial tongues. So girded, they were also relieved of all worldly fears (Testament of Job, Chapters 46-53).

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050


1. According to the Sages, Job's first wife, Uzit, died and he married Jacob's daughter, herself a bit of a schlemazel
2. The Testament of Job, M. R. James, trans., Cambridge University Press, 1897.

Jewish Alchemy: Transformation and Kabbalah

[Alchemists using a bain Marie, the oven invented by Jewish alchemist Maria Hebraea]
The Hermetic tradition, one part theosophy, one part astrology, and one part experimental science, was first expounded in writings attributed to the Egyptian Hermes Trimagistium. Emerging in late antiquity, alchemy was a profoundly spiritual pursuit, a quest to uncover the potential for transformation of the natural order through the study of transformation in certain iconic natural substances – metals. Some alchemists even envisioned their ritualistic chemistry as a kind of sacrificial rite.[1]

Alchemy has been associated with Jews since antiquity. Moses is credited with being the teacher of Hermes himself, but this may also represent a conflation of Moses with the figure of Moses of Alexandra, an Egyptian-Jewish alchemist of antiquity. Some traditions credit the Patriarchs with transmitting alchemical knowledge (along with the philosopher’s stone) that was learned from Adam. Bezalel, the builder of the Mishkan, is said to have been an alchemist (Exodus 31:1-5). Late traditions associate David and Solomon with the Hermetic arts, based on the Biblical account of how David gave Solomon stones, assumed by later readers to be philosopher’s stones (I Chron. 22:14). One ancient alchemist even interpreted the sacrifices made in Solomon’s Temple as kind of nascent alchemical rituals.

By far the most important and influential historical Jewish alchemist of ancient times is Maria Hebraea (Miriam the Jewess). She introduced the Bain Marie, a water-bath oven method still used in chemistry to this day. Medieval alchemists, both Jewish and gentile, frequently claimed occult knowledge of Kabbalah. The Zohar of Moses Shem Tov de Leon and the writings of Abraham Abulafia show a familiarity with alchemy. Directions for the making of gold appear in several Kabbalistic works and Jewish scholars debated whether such transformations were actually possible.
Because Kabbalah was so widely applied by Christian alchemists to their work, by the dawn of the modern era alchemy and Jews were uniquely linked, though this appears to be more perception than reality. So ingrained was this perception that, in order to give their ideas more gravitas, a number of treatises on alchemy were evidently published by non-Jews using Jewish pseudonyms.

Actual Jewish practitioners include Jacob Aranicus (French, 13th Cent), Isaac and John Isaac Hollander (Dutch, 15th Cent.), Modecai Modena (Italian, 16th Cent.) and Samuel de Falk (English, 18th Cent.). Even Baruch Spinoza expressed an interest in it. Oddly, however, only a few Hebrew language alchemical texts have survived to the present.

[This entry excerpted from The Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism. To learn more, the EJMMM is available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050 ]

1. Janowitz, Icons of Power, pp. 109-122; also see Patai, The Jewish Alchemists.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Taharah IV: Clothed in Righteousness

["Behold the couch of Solomon. Sixty mighty men surround it, of the mighty men of Israel" A taharah table]

This is the fourth entry in our study of the liturgy for the ritual of body purification:

Having undergone ablution [1] the body is ready to be dressed (ha-l'bashah) in burial shrouds. The tradition as it currently stands is to use tachrichim, a white three-piece bio-degradable outfit of pants, blouse, and head covering [2] followed with a winding sheet (sovev). The Tachrichim are meant to resemble the garments of the priesthood. In fact, some of the items are known by the same terms as the priest's outfit - mitznefet (miter), michnasayim (breeches), and kittel (robe). This continues the motif of earlier liturgy that death is in essence an elevation to a higher status, that the deceased is being readied to enter the mikdash ha-maalah, the "Temple on High." Again, mimicking the dream-vision of Zechariah 3, the Chevra Kadisha serves as the angelic entourage attending to the newly elevated "priest."

As the corpse is being so dressed, the following liturgy is recited:

I will greatly rejoice, my soul shall be joyful in my God, for
God has clothed me with the garments of salvation; God
has covered me with the robe of righteousness as a
bridegroom puts on priestly glory and as the bride adorns
herself with jewels (Isaiah 61:10).
And I said, “Let them set a pure headdress upon his head,”
and they set the pure headdress upon his head, and they
clothed him with garments, and the angel of Adonai stood by
(Zechariah 3:5).
For as the earth brings forth her growth, and as the garden
causes the things that are sown in it to spring forth, so
Adonai will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth
before all the nations
(Isaiah 61:11).
And Adonai will guide you continually and satisfy your soul
in time of drought, and make strong your bones, and you shall be
like a watered garden and like a spring of water whose waters
never fail (Isaiah 58:11).


The uplifting, upbeat images catalogued here are quite striking, even discordant - the deceased is compared to a bride/groom on the wedding day (with the implication of God being the complimentary partner); to the High Priest undergoing coronation; to a seed [about to be 'sown' in the earth!] that will spring forth in new life; and to a garden with a perpetual spring, which, what ever the fate of the individual growths, collectively will never wither or dry up. The Chevra Kadisha simultaneously defies and embraces, and verbally redefines death with tropes of joy, empowerment, fertility, purity, and eternal life.

It is an exquisite act of dialectic interplay between reality and hope. Through speaking this liturgy before the speechless corpse and the valley of the shadow of death is inverted into a high place of hope. Performing magic with words, the Jews of the holy fellowship construct hope from the stuff of tragedy, sending both the death and the living on to renewed life.

[1] Many douse the body in water while it is on the taharah table, others actually use a mikveh, submerging the body in a built-in ritual pool. There is controversy over which is preferable - having handled a few bodies, I find bringing the water to the dead somewhat more dignified.

[2] For those families who insist on the western custom of burying their loved one in fine street clothing, a kittel sometimes will be put over the suit/dress.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Taharah III: The Hope of Israel

[Jugs dedicated to a Chevra Kadisha. Note the image of men carrying a burial litter. Found at www.shtetlinks.jewishgen.org/nikolsburg/w16.jpg]

The term "taharah" is used to refer to the entire ritual of preparing a corpse for burial, but it more specifically refers to the one stage of the ritual in which the body undergoes ablution. Having already physically cleansed the body, we now symbolically cleanse the spirit. This is achieved by either the body's total immersion in a body of "living water" (a moving natural body of water or a man-made ritual pool), or by continuously dousing the body in a minimum of 24 quarts of water (usually by means of buckets). This is the center-piece of the preparation, the culminating moment.

This is so because "living water," water that has flowed down from heaven, is, in effect, a heavenly substance. Jews regard bodies of water to be a kind of celestial embassy on earth, a nexus point between us and Eden. By immersing, we in effect place ourselves at the very doorstep of the World-to-Come, we are prepared to encounter divine things. Since the dead can do nothing from themselves, we perform this liminal ritual on their behalf.

While the ablution is performed, we read a lectionary of verses affirming that God is the mikveh (the purifying waters) that cleanses the spirits of all flesh in the end:

Said Rabbi Akiva, “You are fortunate, Israel. Before Whom do you purify yourselves, and Who purifies you? Your Father in heaven, as it is said: ‘And I will pour pure water upon you, and you shall be purified’ (Ezekiel 36:25), and it says: ‘The mikveh [ritual bath, also a word play on 'hope'] of Israel is God’ (Jeremiah 17:13). Just as a mikveh purifies the defiled, so does the Holy Blessed One purify Israel” (Mishnah Yoma 8:9). A fountain for gardens, a well of living waters, flowing from Lebanon (Song of Songs 4:15) . And I will pour pure water upon you, and you shall be purified from all of your impurities; and from all of your abominations I shall purify you (Ezekiel 36:25).

This ablution, once again, is a mimetic performance. We are acting out physically what we believe to be happening spiritually. It is God, not the Chevra Kadisha, that purifies soul, but we purify the body as a ritualized assertion of faith that God will receive this deceased Jew.

Most of the verses selected are straight-forward prooftexts of this belief. The somewhat oblique verse from Song of Songs, "A fountain of gardens...," refers to the female lover of the poem, who is a understood to be a literary figure for the people Israel. The reference to her as "living waters" affirms that life is still present in death, that just as water moves from one state to another, there will be an enduring aspect of the person who has died. The deceased is now ready to enter and participate in the garden of eternity.

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Taharah II: In My Flesh I See God

[Illustration by David the Artist, found on Flickr]

Continuing our discussion of the rich symbolic blending of liturgy and action that is the ceremony of taharah, of preparing a body for burial, we come now to the ritual washing. The body undergoes two cycles of cleansing. First, the body is gently washed, starting at the head and working down the limbs. Only then is the actual taharah, a whole body ablution, performed.

Like the removal of clothing, the washing is done while passages of Scripture are recited. In the case of the cleansing, it is Song of Songs 5:11-16, widely known as the Rosho ketem paz from the opening words:

His head is like the most pure gold [ketem paz].
His hair is curly – black like a raven.
His eyes are like doves by streams of water,
washed in milk, mounted like jewels.
His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume.
His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh.
His arms are like rods of gold set with chrysolite.
His abdomen is like polished ivory inlaid with sapphires.
His legs are like pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold.
His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
His mouth is very sweet;
he is totally desirable.
This is my beloved!
This is my companion, O maidens of Jerusalem!

The juxtaposition of text and context could hardly be greater. It is little short of mind boggling; reciting the lively, lusty, hyperbolic description of the male lover in Song of Songs while one washes the limp, grey, lifeless limbs of the corpse. It seems yet another example of exquisite, some might say tasteless, Jewish irony.

Yet this paean to beauty thrown in the face of obvious physical desolation is precisely the point. The human, made in the divine image, is to be celebrated. Even if these limbs no longer course with life, what a miracle that they once did. The liturgy forces us to look past the dead flesh to meditate on the sublime nature of the human body. It also suggests that the most splendid aspect of this person endures in a way that may not be obvious, even with the close examination of his corpse.

But there is more. Any Jew conversant with the siddur knows that this passage from Song of Songs has long been treated as an allegorical description of God, the lover of Israel. In the Shabbat service there is Shir ha-Kavod, the Song of Glory, which uses the imagery of ketem paz to praise the God of Israel. The Midrash and Kabbalah frequently cite these words when describing God's attributes.

So reciting these words over the body implies we are looking at, and caring for, something divine. In the divine image, for sure, but something more; God is present in the flesh, even in the decaying flesh, of every person. As the body is readied for burial, the implication is this: God is present in this moment, which is obvious in its tragedy, but may also be hiding something of surpassing beautiful just below the skin.

Addendum: In many traditional chevra kadisha, ketem paz will be recited over both men and women. In more contemporary circles, the woman's washing will be performed to the description of the female lover, Song of Songs chapter 4.

Zal g'mor - to learn more, consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Taharah I: Memesis of Angels, Transformation of the Dead

One of the one of the most widely practiced yet least familiar ritual customs is that of taharah (or tahorah): Purification of a corpse. In theory, every Jewish body buried undergoes this ritual (with variations), though in fact most newly deceased Jews outside the State of Israel probably don't.

A form of body preparation, taharah is performed by a chevra kadisha, a "sacred fellowship" of community volunteers who take on this task. In past centuries, these groups were a cross between the Optimists Club and the Masonic Lodge. Membership was considered a kind of elite privilege, it functioned partly as a social club, and often had more than a air of secrecy about it (anonymity was considered a virtuous aspect of participation).

At its core is a ritual of transition not unlike what is done in most cultures; it is a mechanism to show respect for the deceased by preparing the body for its final resting place (When I worked as a registered nurse, we had our prescribed 'ritual' for washing and preparing a body for transfer to the hospital morgue). Taharah has been, over time, elevated to the status of a sacrament in some circles - there are sources which claim a dead Jew cannot take his or her place in Eden if the body has not undergone taharah. The steps in body preparation became more and more elaborate, and each ritual gesture was given more complex and metaphysical interpretations.

There are endless geographic and communal variations of how this ritual is performed, but I want to comment on examples of the liturgy performed during taharah, because I think the resulting "speech-act" of reading and doing is revealing and interesting.

In this entry I will focus on one of the early steps of the ritual, the removing of any clothing worn at the time of death. Every aspect of what is done, even something as mundane as stripping the body prior to its washing and purification, is considered integral to the ultimate meaning of the ritual, which is to help the dead make the transition from one state of being (existence in this world) to another state of being in the World-to-Come. This is captured in the very fact that there is a liturgy for the pragmatic act of removing the clothing. Moreover, the choice of reading, taken from the prophets, is both startling and beautiful. As the clothes are cut away (the body is at all times partly covered to protect its modesty), one of the participants recites Zechariah 3:4-5:

And He raised his voice and spoke to those who were standing before him, saying, "Remove the soiled garments from him" And he said to him, "Behold, I have removed your iniquity from you, and I will cloth you in fine garments."

Even without comment or prior knowledge, this is a great quote for the occasion, but consider the original context. In Zechariah, the prophet is having a dream-vision where he sees Joshua, the High Priest of his time, being tried in an angelic court. Joshua is clothed in filthy clothing, symbolic of the spiritual corruption that threatens the disintegration of the sacred community of Israel. In the midst of the trial, God graciously intervenes and declares Joshua fit, having endured the ordeal of exile, and ready to take on new, priestly duties. The angels strip him of his outer garments in a gesture signifying his spiritual purification. What has happened is that his soul has been cleansed, even as his material covering is cleansed - also indicating that sin, like the garments, are incidental, not integral to who he is.

By reciting these verses while stripping the body (perhaps in death the body itself is the covering that is removed, revealing the soul beneath), the Chevra Kadisha is acting out a memesis of Zechariah's vision. We become the angels preparing the dead for his/her elevation to a new and holy state. The deceased is Joshua, sullied and stained by transgression in life, undergoing the ordeal of death, but now he/she is readied by us to take a new form, a new role, to become a being akin to the priesthood. An unstated subtext is that life itself is an exile analogous to the exile Joshua endured, and merely having endured it has prepared the spirit for future glorification and return to God, Who is the homeland (ha-Makom, "the place," as the Sages refer to Her) of the soul.
It is a brilliant use of text in a ritual setting to affirm the values of Judaism and the enduring value of the individual. It marks death not as an end, but almost as an overcoming of life and a transfer of the essential part of each person into a higher, purer, order of being. The Chevra Kadisha is, in that moment, an angelic assembly privileged to be the facilitator of that transformation.
Zal g'mor - to learn more, consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Monday, July 20, 2009

Ruach P'sak'nit: Who Speaks for Israel?

It is apparent that the people Israel could sure use some help. Spiritually, there have been numerous intercessors on our behalf. Among humans, we can immediately think of Moses,

[Hopeful Angel, by Paul Klee]

whose actions on our behalf are recorded in Torah.

The Sages also call attention to numerous times where the prophets following Moses speak in defense of Israel. Some argue that no prophet is worthy of the name unless he is willing at some point to step in between God and Jewish people. As it turns out, keeping us out of trouble in more than a full time job. Abraham, Rachel, and other virtuous ancestors, we are told, are still occupied with this advocacy long after they've died (LOTJ 4:304-10).

Among angels we are told, in various sources, that Michael (Exodus Rabbah 18:5), Gabriel (Sanh. 44b), and even an eponymously named angel, Israel (Mid. Teh. 8:6; PdRE 37), is our people's guardian spirit and advocate. Least known, however, is the Ruach P'sak'nit.

The Ruach P'sak'nit ("Intervening/Intercessory Spirit") Is a celestial defender of Israel. Perhaps based on the recording angel who pleads on behalf of suffering Israel in the Book of Enoch (1 En. 89.76), he goes by three names - Piskon, Itamon, and Sigaron (B.T. Sanh. 44b). He is given permission to dispute with God over matters pertaining to the Jewish people (Tanhuma, V'zot ha-Brachah). I was not aware of him when I wrote the EJMMM and would welcome anyone who knows of additional sources or traditions about any angel of these names or titles.

Zal g'mor - consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Friday, July 10, 2009

Serafim: Fiery Angels of Presence

Seraphim, Serafim: (“Fiery Ones”). A class of angels first described in the apocalypse experienced by Isaiah in the Temple (Isa. 6). There are four seraphim, corresponding to the four winds. The appearance of the Seraf is truly awesome. It has six wings, sixteen faces, and is the height of all seven heavens combined. Serafim are born anew each day, rising from the river of light that flows from under the Throne of Glory (Sefer Hechalot). According to Enoch I, they are serpent-like. The Talmud counts Michael among the Serafim:

R. Eleazar b. Abina said furthermore: Greater is [the power] ascribed to Michael than that ascribed to Gabriel. For of Michael it is written: Then flew unto me one of the Seraphim, whereas of Gabriel it is written: The man Gabriel whom I had seen in the vision at the beginning, being caused to fly in a flight.... [one "flap" vs. two "flaps"]. How do you know that this [word] 'one' means Michael? — R. Johanan says: By a word association; [the words] 'one', 'one'. Here it is written: Then flew unto me one of the Seraphim; and in another place it is written: But, behold, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me (B.T. Ber. 4b)

The Zohar contains a section on angels, probably a Hekhalot text inserted into the teachings on creation, which briefly discusses Serafim.
Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Hillula: Partying with the Righteous Dead



All Jews consider visiting the graves of deceased relatives a meritorious act. But outside of Hasidic circles, American Jews have no experience with the custom of making a pilgrimage to visit the tombs of Jewish saints and folkheros. Among the Jews of North Africa and Asia, however, the veneration of the righteous dead is widespread and widely observed.



Called variously a ziyara (Arabic: "visitation"), aliyah ha-regel (Hebrew: "pilgrimage") or hillula (Aramaic: "party" or even euphemistically "wedding"), thousands will make a journey, sometimes alone, but more often in organized caravans, to the gravesides of venerated scholars, rabbis, and faith healers.



Largely (but not entirely) unknown in Biblical and Talmudic times, the custom arose in the Middle Ages, coinciding with the rise of saint veneration in Christian and Muslim societies.



There are appointed "holidays" (a yom hillula) for some figures, often the yahrzeit, the most famous in Israel being the Lag b'Omer (33rd Day of the Omer Count) hilula to the Safed grave of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, the Talmudic Sage, mystic, and purported author of the mystical tract, Sefer Zohar. Others include Choni ha-M'aggel, the Talmudic rainmaker buried in Hatzor, the medieval healer Meir Baal ha-Nes in Tiberius, and Baba Sali (a modern folk hero) in Neivot. [See this Youtube clip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWqWIFEox0c]




These events are lively social gatherings, freely mixing religious, commerical, and party atmospherics, with food, drinking, bonfires, marketing, worship, dancing, and Bar mitzvah celebrations. They also are the focal points for a widespread belief in miracles. Like Lourdes, these sites will attract pious petitioners seeking spiritual intervention for health, fertility, marital problems, and the like. Offerings are made - sacred books, bottles of olive oil and liquor, candles (often tossed, or hurled en mass, into a huge brazier) - in hopes of soliciting a divine response.



Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Marot ha-Tzovot: Reflections of Male and Female, Lens of Prophecy

[Woman gazes at mirror art by Israeli artist Daniel Rozin, found at http://nymag.com/images/2/daily/entertainment/07/09/06_artcandy_lg.jpg]


Mirrors have occupied an interesting place in human thought. More than just a means of seeing the self, they are often an archetype for a portal between mortal and immortal realms, or ironically, a means to see "beyond" the self ("Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?" is followed by the power to see unseen and distant things).

Given that the Tabernacle and Temple were the places of divine vision and encounter, places to "see the face of the Eternal (Deut. 16:16; Ps. 11)," it is surprising that more early interpreters of the Torah didn't make symbolic hay out of Exodus 38:8, an explicit reference to mirrors associated with the sanctuary of God:

He made the laver of copper and its stands of copper, from the mirrors of the women who worked at the opening of the Tent of Meeting.

The laver of copper/bronze used in the Mishkan came from these mirrors, making them "integral" to the cosmic scheme embodied in the Sanctuary and its objects. But in what way?

In a small number of Rabbinic interpretations, these mirrors were not symbols of divine vision, but emblems of female sexuality and the Sages explored its appropriateness both in the sanctuary as the locus of God's holiness and in the larger divine plan. In Numbers Rabbah, Moses selects them specifically because the Israelite women did not use them for "immorality" (i.e., used them to make themselves look more sexually appealing) (IX:14). RaSHI playfully tweeks this rather puritan Midrash by making Moses' prudishness a foil for a more positive view of sexuality:

From the mirrors [marot] – The Israelite women had in their possession mirrors that they would look in when they put on their jewelry. Even these mirrors they did not withhold from the donations to the Tabernacle, and Moses was disgusted with them because the mirrors were made for the evil inclination. God said to [Moses], "Accept the mirrors, for they are more precious to Me than anything else, since with the mirrors the women brought many hosts of children into being." When their husbands were oppressed with slave labor, the women would go and bring them food and drinks, and feed them. They would bring the mirrors with them and each one of the women would look at herself in the mirror with her husband and entice him with worlds, saying "I am more beautiful than you." From this they would make their husbands desirous and have sex, and the women became pregnant there (in the fields), as it says: "Under the apple tree I roused you" (Song of Songs 8:5). And this is why [it calls them] "marot tzovot" which can be read as "mirrors of multitudes." (Tanhuma Pikudei 9 has a similar account)

Kabbalah, by contrast, focuses on the word-play of the word marah between "mirror" and "vision." Thus Marot ha-Tzovot can be read as "visions/mirrors of the Hosts [of heaven]," reminiscent of another esoteric teaching, the "nine shining speculum," or levels of prophetic vision (Num. 11:6-8; T.B. Yebamot 49b). Thus these "mirrors" associated with the place of Divine Presence (the lowest of the sefirot which is the "speculum that does not shine") are apertures for gazing upon degrees of divine light, as Joseph Gikatilla (13th Cent) wrote:

Know that Moses our teacher was greater than all the other prophets, and Moses never used the phrase "YHVH TZVAOT" for his level cleaved to YHVH [alone] and he did not have to look into "mirrors of TZoVOT" (the hosts or legions of women). Thus it is written that Moses our teacher, PBUH, looked into the luminous mirror (Num. 12:8). The other prophets see through an opaque, unfinished mirror "...I make myself know to him in a vision [Marea] (Hosea 12:11)" [which] is the essence of Marot Tzovot...this is also the essence of the mirrors of Tzovot that were arrayed around the doorway of the Tent of Meeting. [1]

In later sources, the tenth sephirah, Malchut/Shekhinah, is even dubbed the Marot ha-Tzovot. By the late 13th Century there is a book devoted entirely to the Kabbalistic symbolism of these "mirrors" [2] Which is not to say that the sexual association of the marot made by the Rabbis is lost - Kabbalah takes as a premise that God's creation is shot through and sustained at all levels by erotic energy. Elsewhere Gikatilla links the mirrors of Exodus 38:8 to the lower sefirot of Hod (female) and Netzach (male), which are most closely tied to prophecy.

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050


1. Weinstein, Avi, trans., Gates of Light, Harper Collins, 1994, p. 119

2. Matt, Dan, "David ben Yehudah HeHasid and His Book of Mirrors," HUCA Annual, 1980.







Friday, June 05, 2009

Kiss of Disclosure, Kiss of Death

The kiss as a spiritual act has a long history in Judaism. It is closely linked with the handling and learning of Torah. Jews often kiss a Torah scroll when it is brought into the congregation. People will kiss a chumash or siddur that has been dropped.

Students would kiss the hand of their master after a learning session, symbolically acknowledging the hand that “fed” them spiritual sustenance (PdRE 2; Zohar III:147a). Masters would kiss disciples on the head as a kind of initiation ritual (T. Chag. 2:2). In the Zohar, in particular, masters would kiss students, often on the eyes, when they had demonstrated an insight or high attainment of wisdom.[1]

In the highest heaven, the angels who serve before the Throne of Glory kiss God during the afternoon worship (Hechalot Rabbati). A special category of kiss is the “kiss of God” (Meitah be-nesikah in Hebrew or mise binishike in Yiddish). This refers to death directly at the hands of God (or the Shekhinah):

930 kinds of death were created in the world...The most difficult is plague, the easiest of all is a kiss. Plague is like burr being pulled through a wool fleece or like stalks in your throat. A kiss is as gentle as drawing a hair out of milk (T. B. Ber. 8a)

The concept arises from the death of Moses, where it is said he died al pi Adonai, "at God's command", but literally "by God's mouth" (Deut. 34). This easiest of all deaths circumvents the dreaded Angel of Death. According to the Sages, only six people have died this way: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Miriam, Aaron, and Moses (B.B. 17a; S of S R. 1:2; Tanh., Va-Etchanan). In later Jewish mystical writings, a number of kabbalistic masters die in ecstasy via the “kiss” (Zohar III: 144b; Sha’ar ha-Gilgulim 39). Jewish mysticism also equated the “kiss” with devekut, mystical fusion with God (Zohar II: 53a).

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050


1. Arthur Green, “Introducing The Pritzker Edition Zohar,” at 2004 Conference of the
Central Conference of American Rabbis, Toronto.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Divine Tears: The Zohar on Weeping

[Found at http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pbqs7mCGdtM/STVvR_qBVTI/]

I made an earlier entry on weeping as a spiritual practice in Jewish tradition. I also alluded to the idea that God weeps. In the Zohar, the distinction between divine and mortal tears blurs in fascinating and beautiful ways. Here we have a passage which suggests that heartfelt tears are actually a manifestation of the Divine Presence (Shekhinah):

The great Rabbi Hiyya went to the masters of Mishna to learn from them.
He went to R. Shimon ben Yohai and he saw a curtain was blocking the entrance to the house. R. Hiyya was astonished and said: I will hear something from his mouth from here. He heard R. Shimon saying, “Hurry my beloved, swift as a gazelle or a young stag, to the hill of spices…”
(SoS 8:14)
R, Hiyya heard this and said: Exalted ones are engaged in the house and I am sitting outside! He wept.
R. Shimon heard this and said: the Shekhinah is surely outside! [The Midrash repeatedly describes the Shekhinah as weeping out of love for exiled Israel. Here Hiyya's tears at being "exiled" from the scholars is taken by Rabbi Shimon to be a sign the Divine Presence is nearby] Who will go out? [See Isa. 6.1-10 - there are several moments that echo the summons of Isaiah] His son R. Elazar said: If I am burned, I shall not really be burned, for the Shekhinah is outside of us. Let the Shekhinah come inside and there will be a complete flame. [Bring the Shekhinah "in", uniting it with the Word, i.e., fulfilling the verse under discussion, a mimetic act of ending the estrangement of Israel from its God]
He then heard a voice that said: The pillars have not yet been supported, and the gated have not been completed. R. Elazar did not go out.
R. Hiyya sat down. He wept and groaned. He opened and said: “Set out my beloved swift as a gazelle or a young stag, to the hill of spices…” (SoS 2:17) [He offers a complimentary verse to Rabbi Shimon's, echoing his longing to unite the separated lovers - God and Israel - and signifying that he is spiritually fit to enter into the company of the enlightened circle of mystics]
The gates of the curtain opened but R. Hiyya did not go inside. R. Shimon lifted his eyes
and said: Learn from this that permission has been given to the one who is outside while we are inside. R. Shimon arose and fire went from his place to the place of R. Hiyya [The fire of Torah uniting with the water (tears) of Divine Presence, reconciling the duality ]….Once he entered inside he lowered his eyes and did not left up his head. R. Shimon said to R. Elazar his son: Arise and pass your hand over his mouth [Look again at Isa. 6.1-6]…R. Hiyya then opened his mouth and said: My eye has seen what I have not seen before, something I’ve never contemplated has been shown to me. It is good to die in the good glowing fire of gold! [to experience unio mystica, or as the Hasids put it, bittul ha-nefesh] (Zohar 2:14a)

Notice that Shimon never repudiates his earlier claim that it was the Shekhinah outside weeping - Rabbi Hiyya's tears transfigured him into something divine! In fact, elsewhere in Zohar, enlightened individuals are also called "Shekhinah."

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Friday, May 08, 2009

Kosher Fodem: Sacred Threads between the Living and Dead

[Candles stacked upon the ohel (gravesite) of a Hasidic master]

People are aware of the use of strings and threads as amulets in Jewish popular culture. Heck, the Kabbalah Centre has made it into an industry. There are a number of sources and explanations for this custom, but today I'll consider just one.

Kosher fodem ("fit string") is an outgrowth of the Ashkenazi pious custom known variously as Kneytlekh Legn ("laying wicks") or Korim Mesn ("measuring graves"). In Poland and other Eastern European communities, pious women would go, en mass, to graveyards and lay thread around the graves of people known for their piety in life. This seemingly morbid practice was actually a spirited and popular women's outing [1]. The string so prepared were thought to "absorb" a measure of the dead soul's merit. Most often, the strings would be cut into wicks, made into candles, and then donated to a synagogue or house of study.

This was a charitable effort to support these sacred institutions, but it was also done, pardon the pun, out of 'enlightened' self-interest. Often the donation would be made to coincide with High Holidays or an illness or trouble in the family, in hopes of receiving divine intercession. The candles could also be reserved for rituals of divination or as a means to protect the household against malevolent forces [2].

No doubt, some of this string was simply attached to places of vulnerablity one wanted to protect - a baby crib or birthing bed, for example. And some just got tied around the wrist.

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

1. Wex, Born to Kvetch, p. 178.
2. Weissler, "Measuring graves, Laying Wicks," pp. 61-80.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Abbahu: Magic Herbalist, Fiery Preacher

Along with my earlier entries on Jewish shamans of the Talmudic era,

Choni the Circle Drawer: Rainmaker and Rip Van Win...
Chanina Ben Dosa: Jewish Shaman
Akiba: Mystic and Miracle-Worker
Lamed Vavniks: The thirty-six righteous who sustai...
Rav Aha ben Jacob: Dragon Slayer, The Jewish Beowu...
Joshua ben Levi: Esoteric Master, Cosmic Jester

I must add Rabbi Abbahu. This Talmudic Sage (ca. 3rd-4th century) was a man of exceptional physical perfection, rivaling that of Jacob and Adam (B.M. 84a). When he sat and interpreted Torah, supernal fire would flash around him (S of S R. 1:10). He experienced clairvoyant dreams (T.Y., Taanit 1:4, 64b). He once escorted Elijah to Eden, where he gathered healing leaves, wrapping them in his cloak. Afterward he discovered his cloak had such a heavenly scent that he could sell it for a great price (B.M. 114a-b). An avid collector of lore both legal and legendary, he preserved stories of how angels intervened in the lives of biblical figures (PdRE 16, 43). He was given a glimpse of his reward in the Olam ha-Ba (the World to Come) before he died, which appeared to him as thirteen rivers of soothing balm (T.Y., A.Z. 3:1). When he did die, the building pillars in his home town, Caesarea, voiced their mourning (Mo'ed Katan 25b; T.Y. A.Z. 3:1, 42c).

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Friday, May 01, 2009

Cry Out To The Lord: The Spiritual Power of Weeping in Judaism

Weeping, biologists now tell us, is a useful mechanism for keeping our body in balance (The Mystery of Tears, William Frey). Jewish tradition has always weeping a great tool for maintaining spiritual equalibrium. As the Yiddish proverb goes, "Tears are to the soul what soap is to the body." There are branches of Jewish thought that take the idea of tears cleansing the soul quite seriously (Talmud A.V. 17a). In the Zohar we are told,

If a person grieves and sheds tears for the death of Aaron’s two sons, God declares, ‘Your sin has left and your iniquity has been atoned for’ [Isaiah 6:7]”

and

"...all those that are pained from those righteous who have died, or who sheds tears for them, God proclaims over him, 'Your sins are remove, your iniquities atoned for.'" (Zohar 3:57b).

The significance of weeping is in Zohar is complex and wide-ranging, often being the necessary precursor to revealing a divine secret, a marker that the revealor is spiritual cognisant of the awesome nature of what he is about to do (Fishbane, Eitan. “Tears of Disclosure: The Role of Weeping in Zoharic Narrative,” The Journal of Jewish
Thought and Philosophy
, Volume 11, No. 1) and appears in many phases of Jewish mystical tradition.

Thus, weeping can induce visions (II Enoch; Zohar 1:4a, 3:166b; Sefer ha-Hezyonot). It has the power to draw the Shekhinah to one who cries in worship (Reshit Chochmah). Hasidic figures like the Kotzker Rebbe and the Seer of Lublin encouraged weeping as a spiritual discipline (Idel, M., Kabbalah New Perspectives). The tears of the righteous have the power of Torah; in some cases, they even turn into words of Torah when they fall ("Sealing the Book with Tears," Nechemia Polen).

Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Friday, April 17, 2009

Choni the Circle Drawer: Rainmaker and Rip Van Winkle

[A patio with an inlaid circle outside of Choni's gravesite in the Galilee]


We are going to complete our current study of wonder workers and shamans of the Talmud...


...with the figure of Choni (or Honi) the Circle-Maker. Mishnah Taanit 3:8 and the accompanying Gemara tells of this 2nd Century BCE legendary rainmaker. In a fabulous and humorous episode, Honi literally draws a line in the sand (actually, a magic circle) with God, announcing he will not move from it until God opens the heavens and brings the people Israel rain:

It once happened that they said to Honi ha-M'aggel: "Pray that rains may fall." He said to them: "Go out and bring in the [clay] ovens for the Paschal sacrifices so that they will not dissolve." He prayed, but rains did not fall. What did he do? He drew a circle and stood within it and he said before Him: "Master of the Universe! Your children have turned their faces to me, for I am like a member of your household. I swear by Your great Name that I will not move from here until You have mercy on Your children." Rains began to come down in drops. He said: "I did not ask this, but rains [to fill] pits, ditches and caves." They began to come down angrily. He said: "I did not ask this but [for] rains of benevolence, blessing and generosity." They fell in their normal way, until Israel went up out of Jerusalem to the Temple Mount [high ground] because of the rains. They came and said to him: "Just as you prayed for them that they should fall, so pray that they should go away."...Shimon ben Shetach [the Nasi, or chief officer of the Sanhedrin] sent for him: "If you were not Honi I would decree a ban upon you. But what shall I do to you, for you act like a spoiled child before God and yet He does your will for you, as a son who acts like a spoiled child with his father and yet he does his will for him? And about you the verse says: "Your father and your mother shall be glad and she who bore you shall rejoice." (M. Taanit 3:8)

Another fabulous (and this time, poignant) story (Ta'anit 23a) about Honi seems to have inspired the tale of Vip Van Winkle:

All his life, Choni ha-M'aggel was bothered by this verse, "When God returns us to Zion, we will have been as dreamers," (Ps. 126:1) [Choni is thinking about the Babylonian exile of 70 years, how could it have passed as a dream?]. "Could it be," he asked, "that a person can sleep continuously for 70 years?" One day, as he was walking, he saw a man planting a carob tree. "How long will it be," he asked the man, "before this tree produces fruits?"
"Seventy years," the man answered.
"And are you certain you will still be alive then?" Choni ha-M'aggel asked.
"I was born into a world with carob trees," the man answered. "Just as my fathers planted trees for me to enjoy, so I plant trees for my children."
Choni ha-M'aggel then sat down a little distance away, to a meal. He ate, then dozed off. A wall of rock sprung up around him, and hid him from view. No one could find him, and so he slept for 70 years.

When he awoke from his sleep, he saw the same man picking carobs from the tree he had planted.
"Are you the man that planted this tree?" he asked him.
"no," answered the man, "I am his grandson."
"I see," said Choni, "that I must have slept for 70 years." He then noticed that his donkey had been given birth to donkeys, who in turn, gave birth to still other donkeys.
He went to his home.
"Is the son of Choni the Circle-Maker still alive?" he asked.
"No," they answered, "but his grandson is alive."
"I am Choni the Circle-Maker," he told them, but they would not believe him.
He went to the House of Study. There he overheard the rabbis saying, this teaching shines as brightly as in the days of Choni the Circle-Maker. For when Choni would come to the House of Study, he would solve for them in an excellent way, any difficulties they had.
"I am Choni" he told them, but they would not believe him -- and did not honor him as a scholar of his stature needs to be honored. This hurt him deeply. He prayed to God [to end his life] and he died.


In the writings of Josephus, the historical Choni meets a more mundane death at the hands of a political opponent. I like the mythic ending better.
Zal g'mor - To learn more consult the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Best Medieval Movies


(Gerald Butler and Company - Not a Jew among them)


The Best medieval movies? Someone asked me this question, knowing I love both the Middle Ages and movies. Not anything Jewish - or esoteric - in this, really (Only Ivanhoe really touches on the lives of Medieval Jews, as conceived by 19th Century Romanticism), but I feel like answering the question. All movies set in the Middle Ages are really about today and reflect our bias (egalitarian freedom/nationalism - Braveheart; religious pluralism/a politically correct view of Islam - Kingdom of Heaven) more than the real concerns of their historical subjects, but some offer more useful perspectives on the Middle Ages than others:

1) Monty Python's Holy Grail - Yes, the best. While the 10th Century knights have 13th Century garb, it satirically hits all the important elements of real medievalism - profound social stratification ("We don't 'ave a king"), pagan-derived mythic traditions ("The Lady of the Lake, dressed in shimmering..."), religious mythic traditions ("Of course...Joseph of Aramathia!"), dependance on Classical literature (the Trojan Rabbit), religious piety ("Stop that grovelling!"), chivalric pretense ("I'll bite you in the knee caps"), peasant populism ("Burn her, she's a witch!"), courtly sex ("Bad Snoot!"), skin disease ("I'm not an old woman"), religious relics ("The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch"), political and economic alliances through marriage ("No singing!"), word magic ("We are the Knights who say 'Ni'"), untrammelled infectious disease ("Bring out your dead!"), ahh, the list goes on...

2) The Lion in Winter - Excellent study not only in dynastic dynamics, but also the formal powerlessness and informal power of women. And the wit! No ponderous, majestic "histo-speak." Smart powerful people talking about power smartly.

3) The Return of Martin Guerre - A true story told with a real bit of medieval psychology.

4) The Warlord - This forgotten Chuck Heston classic gets 11th Cent. British castle life (and haircuts) right, even if lords weren't really entitled to first sex with churlish women.


5) Flesh and Blood - The mean, brutish, and short lives of peasant bandits encapulated.

6) Robin and Marion - As real as the Robin Hood legend can get on film. Nice feel for the cloistered life of women in religious orders (a medieval Jew does appear in the film for about 20 seconds).

7) Name of the Rose - Takes us inside both monasticism and the medieval world of ideas. (Kabbalah gets a mention).

8) Mongol - This Mongolian-made film is by far the most accurate portrayal of the world-conqueror and takes us out of Europe for a different perspective on the Middle Ages.

9) Ran - Kurosawa reworks King Lear into the end of Japanese medieval period. Stunning. The themes of dynastic failure and betrayal also give a more realistic perspective on the myth of Samurai chivalry and loyalty.

10) - Beowulf and Grendal - (not the CGI abomination) Gerald Butler does the Saga hero a more realistic turn than he did the Spartan king. The scene of tall nordic warriors trotting into action on diminutive shaggy ponies is visually laugh-out-loud, but utterly authentic.

Not great, but entertaining enough I have to mention them:


A) The 13th Warrior - OK, so a cannibalistic Neanderthal bear-cult in the 10th Century is only slightly more plausible than a lake fiend and a dragon, but this version of Beowulf reconceived as a medieval platoon action reported by an outsider/journalist has some worthy features, especially the under appreciated role of cultural transfer between medieval societies (Greek-speaking Vikings with eclectic collections of armor, for example).


B) Braveheart - Anachronisms (Too early for tartans, too late for wode) and errors (Where's the bridge at the Battle of Sterling Bridge? And I bet William Wallace owned a comb) abound, but the truly outdoor nature of medieval life, the size, movements, and dismemberment of armies, the overlapping loyalties created by clan, class, and feudal oaths...all ring true.

I'll get back on topic next entry.




Saturday, March 28, 2009

Chanina Ben Dosa: Jewish Shaman

Occasionally, the Talmud will include stories about particularly pious or inspired individuals who never attain a title, such as rav, abba, or chacham. One such charismatic layman was the miracle worker Chanina (or Hanina) ben Dosa.

[Bronze figurine of a man and his donkey from the Ancient Near East]

I bring him up in response to a question asked last post about a Talmudic figure who lived off of vinegar. Chanina may be the person the reader is thinking of, but let me expound for a while.

Though a person of no particular social standing -- indeed, he and his family were grindingly poor -- many recognized Chanina's spiritual genius. His primary gift was as a wondrous rainmaker. When the heavens refused to rain in order to ease his way while on the road, Ben Dosa prayed:

Master of the universe, shall all the world be grieved while Hanina enjoys his comfort? Thereupon copious showers descended. With reference to his rain-governing powers it was said, "Beside Ben Dosa's prayers those of the high priest himself are of no avail" (Ta'anit, 24b).

The contrast between his impoverished status on earth and his exalted reputation in heaven was the subject of many comments. When someone was shocked that a prominent rabbi's prayer for rain was ignored by heaven, while Ben Dosa's prayers were heeded, this exchanged was recorded:

"Is Hanina greater than you?" To this he replied, "There is this difference between us: he is like the body-servant of a king, having at all times free access to the august presence, without even having to await permission to reach his ears; while I, like a lord before a king, must await an opportune moment" (Berachot 34b).

Like people often do today, his contemporaries found it difficult to look past a humble and shabby outward appearance.

He explained his rain-making talents in terms of a capacity for kavvanah (focused intention) to some skeptical agents who approached him:

I am neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet; but experience has taught me that whenever my prayer flows freely it is granted; otherwise, it is rejected." The messengers thereupon noted down Hanina's declaration, and the exact time when it was made; on reaching the patriarch's residence they found that Hanina had spoken truly (ibid., Yerushalmi Berachot, 9d).

In another water-related story, a spring miraculously appeared under his feet, cleansing the wound of a poisonous lizard (Yerushalmi Berachot 9a).

More on point with the question, one Shabbat when his daughter accidentally filled the lamp with vinegar instead of oil, and then told him of her mistake, he remarked, "He who given oil with the power of burning may give vinegar the same power." The lamp burned on throughout the whole of the next day (Ta'anit, 25a).

Inspired by his example, even his donkey was pious, refusing to eat grain that had not been tithed (Avot of Rabbi Nathan 8:8)

To learn more consult the: Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Akiba: Mystic and Miracle-Worker

[Lied der Lieder, by E.M. Lilien]

Of all the esoteric heroes of the Talmud, Rabbi Akiba (1st-2nd Century) stands alone. Mentioned no less than 250 times in the Mishna alone, legends about him are legion, beginning with the story that he began life as an illiterate shepherd, only began his Torah studies in middle age, and went on to become the outstanding Sage of his generation (with 24,000 students who followed him around like the Verizon guy). His relationship with his wife, Rachel, is one of the few love stories told in the Talmud.

He is most important for his significant contributions to the shaping of Jewish law. But he is also the archetypal rabbinic mystic. His declaration: "The whole Torah is Holy….but The Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies." (Mishna Yadaim 3:5) is the locus classicus for the interpretation of this book as an erotic theology of the love between God and Israel and inspired generations of spiritual seekers to probe the meaning of that strange book of the Bible.

There are also a number of manifestly paranormal stories about him, including the cryptic tale of the Four Sages, one of the most analysed narratives of the Talmud:

Four men entered pardes [literally, “paradise,” but its connotation is debated]: Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher [that is, Elisha ben Abuya], and Akiba. Ben Azzai looked and died; Ben Zoma looked and went mad; Acher cut the roots; Akiba entered in peace and departed in peace (Chagigah 14b).

Variant forms of this legend add details, some clarifying, some as obscure as the stripped-down original. My favorite has Akiba adding this cautionary warning before they begin: "When you come to the place of pure marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' for it is said, 'He who speaks untruths shall not stand before My eyes' (Psalms 101:7)." Eh?

I can’t even begin to summarize the diverse explanations offered for the terms “pardes” (Ascent into heaven? Entering the mystical secrets of Torah? A critique of different rabbinic strategies for interpretation?), or “cut the roots” (Apostasy? Gnostic heresy? Auto-castration?), or the “pure marble stones.” This may be the Holy of Holies of mystical fables.

Other stories make him out to be a miraculous rain-maker (Taanit 25b) and able to commune with ghosts and exorcise them (Seder Eliyahu Zuta). All of them indicate he was a person of towering spiritual achievement.


To learn more consult the: Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050

Friday, March 20, 2009

Lamed Vavniks: The thirty-six righteous who sustain the world

[One of the 36 hidden?]

A slight digression from my earlier entries on esoteric masters of the Talmud, but not much of one. Think of it as a byway on the theme. A congregant asked me about the Tzadikim Nistarim (Heb.) or Lamed Vovniks/"Thirty-Sixers" (Yiddish).
The Thirty-Six [Righteous] are the minimum number of utterly moral people in each generation that are necessary to sustain the world. The legend evidently evolved from an earlier tradition of interpreting the “thirty shekels of silver” mentioned in Zechariah 11:12 as an allegory for godly people; God ensures there will always be thirty righteous people in every generation.
It also may have roots in the story of Abraham's efforts to save Sodom (Gen. 18), where it becomes evident that any society must have a minimum number of decent people in order to survive (Gen. R. 49:3; Zohar I:105b; Tikkunei Zohar, 21).

In the earliest version of this idea in rabbinic literature, found in Gen. R. 49:3, there are forty-five, “fifteen in Babylon, thirty in the land of Israel.” There is no firm explanation for how the tradition settles upon the number thirty-six (Sanh. 97b). Perhaps it is symbolic of "abundant life": double the number eighteen, the number value of the word chai / "life." According to the “thirty-six” legend, most of the thirty-six are nisterim, unknown, anonymously doing their good work unnoticed by the world. A esoteric prooftext for the number is found in Isaiah 30:18 - "For the Eternal is a God of justice; fortunate are those who wait for Him." In Hebrew, the pronoun "for Him" has the numeric value of 36. Thus the verse is read as "...fortunate are those who wait - [the] 36"
(Thanks to the anonymous reader who called my attention to this Isa. verse)

The reward for their anonymous labors is that they are privileged to directly experience the Shekhinah. One of them in each generation is suitable to be the Messiah (Sanh. 97b; Chul. 45a; Gen. R. 35:2; Mid. Teh. 5:5; Zohar 2:151a).

The fine Holocaust novel by Andre Bart-Schwarz, The Last of the Just, employs this legend, but "christianizes" this Jewish tradition in that the book claims that the 36 are destined to suffer for the sake of sustaining the world. Suffering and myrtrdom is not a big element of the lamed-vavnik tradition

To learn more consult the: Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Mysticism: http://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Jewish-Myth-Magic-Mysticism/dp/0738709050