When faced with a particularly weighty problem, the Baal Shem Tov would go to a particular place in the woods, light a sacred fire and pray. In this way, he found insight into his dilemma.
His successor, Rabbi Dov Ber, the Preacher of Mezrich, followed his example and went to the same place in the woods and said, “The fire we can no longer light, but we can still say the prayer.” And he, too, found what he needed.
Another generation passed, and Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sassov went to the woods and said, “The fire we can no longer light, the prayer we no longer remember; all we know is the place in the woods, and that will have to suffice.” And it did.
In the fourth generation, Rabbi Israel of Rishin stayed home and said, “The fire we can no longer light, the prayer we no longer remember, nor do we remember the place. All we can do is tell the tale.” And that, too, proved sufficient.
Sufficient for what?
For finding a solution to a weighty problem, the story says.
How do you find a solution to a weighty problem?
Do you have a ritual, like the ritual of the Baal Shem Tov, where you step away from the troubled situation, go to a peaceful place, do an action and then pray?
I do. I go down to the cat corner at 30th Ave and John St. I sit on the bench and wait for a cat to come. Then I take out my notebook, and begin to write. By the time I walk back home, I have new insight into my dilemma.
I told the tale. Are your problems solved now?
Did you at least get an idea for a ritual you might perform?
Telling the tale is a sufficient start, but after you hear it, you still have to DO something.
Have you ever wondered why, on Yom Kippur, we sing the list of God’s thirteen attributes of compassion at least five times, as part of every selichot (asking forgiveness) section of the service?
It’s because of a Talmudic teaching about the power of storytelling.
As Torah tells it: After the group revelation at Mt. Sinai, Moshe remained on top of the mountain with God. For the other Israelites, life was business as usual. No new peak experiences unfolded as they waited. They began to worry that Moshe and God had abandoned them. So they asked Aharon to build them a god they could see. Aharon asked them to bring him their gold. He tossed it into the fire and watched a sculpted golden calf emerge. He said scornfully, “There’s YOUR God, people!” The irony, of course, was lost on the materialistic group.
Moshe came down from the mountain, smashed the tablets on which God’s words were written, and executed 3,000 people. God said to Moshe, “I am going to kill them all, and start a new nation with you.” Moshe said, “God, if you are going to do that, write me out of your book.” Moshe insisted that God show the true divine nature and lead the people with it. God placed Moshe in a cleft in the rock…and then an extraordinary thing happened.
Torah says:
Va’ya’avor HaShem al panav, vayikra: HaShem, HaShem, El Rachum v’Chanun, etc.
Literally, the Hebrew says, “God passed over his face, and he called out: God, God, God, gracious and compassionate, etc.”
Over whose face? And who called out these thirteen attributes?
Some translators answer the question by saying that God passed by Moshe’s face, and Moshe called out what he saw.
Rabbi Yochanan, quoted in Talmud, translated differently. He said, “You know, if it weren’t actually written in the text, I wouldn’t dare to offer this interpretation. But, it is.” The Holy One of Blessing passed something over the Divine face, to cover it, wrapping it in a talit (prayer shawl) as a prayer leader might. Then God demonstrated how to pray for forgiveness by calling out the thirteen attributes. God concluded by saying, “Whenever the Israelites sin, they should do this, and I will forgive them.”
When you sin, cover your face with the talit, and call out the thirteen attributes.
When you call out the thirteen attributes, it is as if you are retelling the story of the Golden Calf. All you have to do is tell the tale, and that will prove sufficient.
Except that you still have to DO something.
But what? What do you have to do to be forgiven by God?
You have to understand what the Israelites didn’t: God never goes away.
Rabbi Yochanan explains: I am HaShem, I am HaShem, that is, I am YHVH: I am the one who was-is-will be, the eternal one. That is who I am before a person sins and after a person sins.
Later poets developed Rabbi Yochanan’s point into a full explanation of the attributes:
Adonai…Eternal: with you before you sin
Adonai…Eternal: with you after you sin
El…available to every living creature, through my Canaanite name
Rachum…compassionate to those who deserve it
V’chanun…gracious to those who do not
Erech apayim…patient, never losing hope that the wicked will change
V’rav chesed…present for those who need love
V’emet…letting people know the consequences of their deeds
Notzer chesed la’alafim…here for generations for all who do good deeds
Noseh avon…and for all who deliberately avoid the good
Va’fesha…and for all who transgress in order to hurt
V’chata’ah…and for all who genuinely makes mistakes
V’nakeh…and for all who do teshuvah (repentance)
Understand?
That is all you have to do. Tell the tale, understand it, and it will prove sufficient.
If it seems insufficient, examine your understanding.
Perhaps you have in mind an image of God as a judge, imposing a plan for reparation and restoration, and waiting for you to complete it. But the teaching is about God as love, whose true nature is compassion, grace, and patience, and who never imposes any conditions.
Perhaps you have in mind the world of assiya, action, where, in order to be forgiven, you do have to address the practical consequences of your actions. The teaching, however, is about the world of atzilut, spirit, where all you have to do is dwell in God’s presence.
For those of us who don’t understand, God sends a prayer leader, wrapped in a talit, year after year, to help us re-tell the tale.
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Sources: Hasidic story: as retold by Rami Shapiro in Hasidic Tales. Talmudic teaching: Rosh Hashanah 17b. Image: www.torchweb.org
