Читать книгу The Mystery of You - Adin Steinsaltz - Страница 8

It is May 2007. Actually, it is Sivan, 5767. Some 4,000 years of difference – apparently – and yet, these two time-frames intersect. Maybe the difference is in civilisation, but that is a matter of perception and experience. Maybe there are differences in beliefs? Or could they be due to the impact of bureaucracy upon belief? The depths of personal belief or the lack of personal belief? The superficiality invading everyday living?

People – as individuals and as parts of groups.

It is Shavuoth (Pentecost) and I’m back at the Kotel (Western Wall) again. It is part of the remnant of the biblical Temple first built by King Solomon about three thousand years ago, then destroyed by the Assyrians and rebuilt again about a hundred years later, only to be destroyed again by the Romans just over two thousand years ago. It is my “Kotel Shule” (synagogue). Actually, it is the second day of Shavuoth for me, as well as for many others like me,⁶ but an ordinary weekday for Israelis (and, of course, also for people who are not religiously observant). There are many people praying at the Kotel and others just visiting or passing by for a look or a photo experience.

6 ^{People living outside the Land of Israel celebrate two days instead of one, in each of the major festivals.}

Every week, on Mondays and Thursdays, we take out a Torah scroll during the morning prayer (Shacharit) and read an excerpt of the weekly Torah portion (Parshah). On Shavuoth, as on all festivals, we read from two Torah scrolls.

Shavuoth is one of the three “pilgrimage festivals” prescribed in our Torah. It has no specific date, unlike Pesach (Passover) and Succoth (Tabernacles) whose dates are specified; rather, it is celebrated on the 50th day after the start of Pesach (7 weeks x 7 days, plus 1). It is the time of the giving (and our receiving) of the Torah at Mount Sinai after the Exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt, on their way to the Land of Israel.

During the First and Second Temple eras, many of the people of Israel did indeed make a foot pilgrimage to Jerusalem three times every year to celebrate our festivals. They brought along their offerings and were blessed by the priests.

So here I am, standing at the site of our Holy Temple, which is also Mount Moriah, the place where Abraham, Isaac and Jacob stood and so much of our history took place.

There is a beautiful hum all around me; not an intrusive kind of noise but the warm and happy sound of my people. There are a number of different minyanim⁷ taking place all around me: Ultra-Orthodox, Modern-Orthodox, Chassidim, Sephardim, Ashkenazim, bar mitzvahs. I hear Moroccan, Yemenite, Eastern and Western European, British, French, American, Iraqi and Israeli accents and different prayer versions, each at a different stage of the Morning Prayer service – all in Hebrew, although some sound more Yiddish while others sound more oriental. It is easy to pick the Anglo-Saxon and American accents.

7 ^{Prayer quorums – at least ten males above the age of 13. According to Jewish law, every male over 13 is supposed to pray three times a day: morning, afternoon and evening (Shacharit, Mincha and Ma’ariv), preferably within a minyan. Women are generally exempt from time-related laws due to their duties and routines, but are free to pray according to their own choices.}

I look around and see a group of Ethiopian Jews next to some modern-looking people who are obviously not religiously observant; young and old people, traditionally dressed people and very pious-looking people, a proud American grandfather arranging a small private space for a family celebration – each and every person with their own, unique expression. Some people are standing close to the wall, gripping the stones and crying. People with their eyes closed are asking for solutions to their problems. Some of the people are praying in unison, while others are praying by themselves. People dreaming; people in a haze; people with a gaze; people watching other people.

Beggars who collect charity give festival greetings to those people who, like myself, are unable to carry money because they celebrate an additional day, then move on to their next target.

I like to pray on my own; I become absorbed in prayer and am oblivious to my surroundings, yet I feel part of a wider group. I am part of a minyan – not only the minyan of those around me but also the minyan of my people – as I connect to our religious and cultural heritage. It is a historical combination with a spiritual bond.

A bar mitzvah procession of Indian Jews passes by me and I wish them a mazal tov. A Torah scroll is being carried and, as is the custom, I point the fringes of my prayer shawl (tzitzit) towards it and then kiss them.

I hear the high-pitched sounds of rejoicing from Oriental Jewish women on the other side of the partition (mechitzah) separating the men from the women, as another bar mitzvah boy completes his public Torah reading. I turn in their direction and smile. I am both tearful and happy seeing their joy. I hear Kaddish⁸ recited nearby and I respond in the appropriate manner as I include myself among those who recite it, according to tradition.

8 ^{A liturgical prayer recited at specified points during each of the three daily services; also Mourner’s Kaddish used during mourning.}

Keddushah⁹ is being recited next to me. I close my eyes and respond to these holy phrases. I am crying warm tears. As the Priestly Blessing is heard, I place my tallith (prayer shawl) over my head and close my eyes as I respond with my “Amen – ken yehi ratzon” (so may it be) to each of the three verses of this blessing. I feel my tears again. I feel serene and blessed. I breathe the sweet air and feel alive and healthy. I feel clean in a spiritually holy kind of way.

9 ^{A section of the daily prayer which is recited only in a minyan.}

My own morning prayer continues. I hear my voice singing these ageless and beautiful poetic phrases. I turn the pages of my prayer book. I am praying together with my people, in just the same way as our people have prayed for centuries upon centuries – to the One and only G-d – the G-d who created the world – my G-d – our G-d, King of our entire world.

5767 and 2007. Four thousand years of difference and four thousand years of similarity.

We have a tradition and a culture which has absorbed so much from the multicultural world around us throughout history – and yet we have retained our own unique collective identity.

This now brings me to an interesting kind of a tension: the individual and the group; praying as an individual and praying together with a minyan.

Obviously there can be many differing experiences. We are human; we are not supposed to be robotic. It can be difficult to feel one’s spirituality during prayer or meditation when group dynamics are at play. Yet, our individual prayers, as part of a group, are preferred over our prayers in isolation.

It is the golden middle path, without compromising Jewish law but with compromise towards our fellow human beings. There is a time for solitude and personal meditation, just as there is a time for being an active participant in community.

This, then, is the free spirit of personal belief within a communal framework containing bureaucracy. Both dimensions form an important component of existence and of continuity.

People are much more strongly influenced by example than by words. People do or don’t do what they experience others doing. It is the “do-whatI-do” rather than “do-as-I-say” syndrome. We have the ability to synthesise the two and to juggle with both according to the environment we happen to be experiencing at a particular time.

They are a mixed multitude – my people – the Jewish people. We have been continuously and repetitively oppressed, persecuted, exiled and dispersed into every corner of the world and yet, we remain alive, creative and productive and unified by our religion. Why?

Every group which is on a positive growth path increases in numbers and then becomes a community. Every community requires leadership and organisation as well as institutions which are designed to serve the community. By their very nature, these institutions and organisations require bureaucracies to manage their activities. With time, bureaucracies tend to grow and become more impersonal and detached from their original purpose. Rather than having a culture of service and a conscious drive to achieve appropriate results, bureaucracies often assume their own culture and dynamic of becoming inwardly focused and have little to no regard for the actual services or the outcomes they are supposed to deliver.

So too, regarding religious organisations. They often lose their identities and fall into self-serving spirals of inwardly-focused behaviour and cease to relate to the actual human beings. Thus, individual belief may find itself under attack from bureaucracies which are unsympathetic to individuality.

What can one do then: Fight? Rebel? Retreat? Withdraw? Disassociate?

Inappropriate bureaucracies cause tension and conflict within society. I don’t believe that extremism is the correct or most effective approach. Obviously, we must remain true to our beliefs and to ourselves; but we must also be true to our community and to those around us.

Judaism is about emet, Truth. We are encouraged to be free thinkers, to challenge what we see and what we hear, to analyse, to be creative, to learn and to grow as individuals. At the same time, however, we are also encouraged to act with kindness and to participate in our actions with consistency.

For instance, a Jew is supposed to follow the dietary laws, to observe the Shabbat (Sabbath) and the festivals, to be charitable, to engage in the study of Judaism. Thus the character and personality of the individual Jew is formed as part and parcel of the Jewish people. It has a collective dimension.

This tension is a real and alive one, an active part of expression and living life, just like the tension between praying as an individual and praying as part of a minyan. The search for identity and for belonging is an integral part of the search for truth. It is one aspect of the fight between the good and bad inclinations, the yetzer ha-ra and the yetzer ha-tov.

Our Sages teach us that during the First and Second Temple eras of Jewish history, there was never overcrowding when our people entered the limited space of the Temple. No matter how many people came to Jerusalem to celebrate the Jewish festivals, each person always found sufficient space. Moreover, one of the ten constant miracles on the Temple Mount was that when people stood erect, they felt crowded; but when they prostrated themselves, there was space between them. Indeed, there were many people at the Kotel when I was there, and I am a person who needs space. But I, too, did not feel crowded, distracted nor disturbed by those around me.

We are the “chosen people” and “the people of the book”. Our mission is to be “ohr laGoyim”, i.e. “a light unto the nations”. Surely, we feature in the world press in a high profile, much out of proportion to our actual numbers. There are less than 20 million Jews in the entire world, 6 million of them in Israel and probably less than 50 per cent are involved with Jewish tradition and some kind of religious observance. So many Jews are ignorant of their history, culture and religion.

What is this “light” then with which we are illuminating the world? Sadly, the way in which we are profiled in the media is an aberration of truth, often motivated by anti-Semitism; it is mass-marketed ignorance based on gross exaggeration of small issues. To be sure, we are not a perfect people, nor is democracy a perfect system; the only perfection in this world is G-d. We should not pretend to be perfect, or be apologetic about our imperfection; at the same time, though, we must aim towards perfection.

We must not try to justify our existence or our right to exist. We also should not need to buy acceptance. What we need is to understand who we are, where we came from and where we are going. We Jews cannot escape our destiny. We are, in a way, like the prophet Jonah, who tried to run away from his duty and deny his destiny, but with the intervention of a Divinely sent big fish, accepted his mission in life and acted accordingly.

Our mission in life is to live according to the laws that G-d gave to Moses. Our light will illuminate the world when we become a living example of a true and meaningful human existence. We are part of humanity – in fact, a very positive and important part. However frail and dispensable on an individual basis, we are indestructible on a collective basis. Indeed, our existence defies logic. And one of the reasons for our continuity is that our system of belief has remained true to its fundamental contents, which has generally continued to serve the needs of our people.

In our system, G-d is the One and only One, King of the Universe, the Creator of life, energy/matter and space/time. And it is G-d who makes the rules that man lives by. At the same time, however, like most Western people, we live in a democracy, not a theocracy. We respect our rabbis, rather than worship them.

Some Jews are more superstitious than others; some are more spiritual. But while we may ask righteous people, dead or alive – whom we feel are closer to G-d – to help bring our prayers to Him, we do not worship any human being. We learn about our patriarchs and matriarchs, prophets and kings and we try to emulate them, or at least some of their positive qualities.

We are the “people of the book”. This “book” and “these people” live with the daily issues pertaining to both belief and bureaucracy, with their inherent conflicts. We have to confront possible contradictions and experience the consequent enrichment. We just live life one day at a time. Our “book” is well and alive in today’s world. It is relevant. It is actually modern. It is applicable. Our “book” is consistent. It is about living life and continuity of life. It is real and we are part of it.

One Shabbat I was in Florence and attended the magnificent old Sinagoga in Via Farini. After the service, the community had a small kiddush¹⁰ where Rabbi Levi spoke to us in Hebrew, English and Italian. It was the Shabbat of the Torah reading of the tabernacle with the well known verses we all sing every time we take out the Torah from the Aron Ha Kodesh¹¹ and again replace it after the reading. Rabbi Levi chuckled and said that many of us Jews feel that our Judaism has been achieved by just being Jews, i.e. “simply belonging to the club”. But, he went on to explain that this was not an ending, but merely a beginning. All of us are on a journey. The journey is about learning and understanding and growing as a human being. Our journey never ends until we leave this earth at the end of our life.

^{10 Blessing over wine, accompanied with some snacks.}

11 ^{A closet or chest in which are kept the Torah scrolls used in the public worship of the synagogue.}

Let us consider some other kinds of spiritual “bureaucracy”. There are many people who claim to believe in the One and only G-d, yet worship other things – mostly, the accumulation of wealth and power; and the general population, the “simple folk”, are manipulated to serve the “common good”. How does that happen? In non-democratic societies, people are “convinced” either by fear or by coercion, while in emancipated societies, this is achieved through rules and regulations, accepted standards of behaviour and the media; for conformity is so much easier and more comfortable than nonconformity.

The “bottom up” approach to communications and to influencing outcomes is to appeal to the intellectual side of individual people and to progress by appealing to their intrinsic logic and common sense. This is a very non-physical as well as a more creative and stimulating approach which works within societies where people have the capacity for free thought and free choice on an individual basis.

The “top down” approach to communications and to influencing outcomes is to create an environment of either euphoria (charisma) or of fear (despotism). This is a much more physical approach which has little need for intellect but may very well involve passion. This system is undemocratic and usually repressive. It requires the power of the masses and represses individual free thought as well as individual free choice. In fact, the individual citizen becomes generally unimportant to the mission.

Today, the “people of the book” are again under open and quite fashionable attack from “people of darkness”.

When the early Jews arrived in Rome, some three centuries before the destruction of the second temple in Jerusalem, i.e. about 2,300 years ago, they observed a strange holiday celebration. It was a well established and popular pagan festival. Families gathered together and prepared lavish picnic lunches, which they brought to their cemeteries and shared with their deceased ancestors. There was a portion for each visitor present plus one especially for the deceased person. They clinked their glasses with the glass designated for the deceased person. They made a toast over their wine and poured the first drink through a hole in the sarcophagus near the nose. They toasted the dead. Then morsels of food were pushed through another hole in the sarcophagus, near the mouth. Then they all ate in merriment and enjoyed the occasion together with their deceased. This practice was also supposed to gain favour for the living among the ranks of the dead. This important holiday was a celebration together with the dead. It evolved into Halloween which occurs every year on 30 October.

The Jews were shocked by what they saw. It is said that our toast on wine – “Le chaim”, i.e. “to life”, originated in contradistinction from that time and that our tradition of not clinking wine glasses also forms part of this.

In today’s liberal western democracies, we value our freedoms. Our primary focus is upon celebrating life rather than death. Society places freedom of speech and freedom of the press as pinnacles of our democratic way of life. But, not all freedoms are equal.

The freedom of life, i.e. the sanctity of life over death is a far higher freedom than is the freedom of speech – every individual has the fundamental right to life; the right to feel and to be safe and secure. The individual right to free movement and to free thought are essential basic rights. Democracies must engage with these fundamental principles and confront their true priorities.

Freedom of speech under the protection of democratic law cannot be used to incite the killing of other human beings in an undemocratic and lawless manner. This is not a democratic freedom but a denial of the most basic democratic principle which the founders of democracy fought so hard for and died for. The fundamental right of life.

Life, liberty and fraternity. This is the correct order of principles.

The “people of the book” value life above all else. Jewish law is about life and how to live life. When a person dies, Jewish law covers the correct procedures, as do our customs and traditions.

The whole point behind the famous biblical story about Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah, when G-d tested them to make their sacrifice, is about life. G-d forbids us to kill a human being to prove our love and our belief in Him. Only G-d gives life and takes life. No servant of G-d has the right to kill in the name of G-d. G-d is the G-d of the living here on our earth.

We have the right of self-defence and this must only be applied very carefully. All such “rights” become relevant due to communities comprised of groups of individual human beings.

Belief is a personal dimension and experience of life. Bureaucracy, on the other hand, is a man-made necessity as well as expediency to help organise society. Bureaucracy should never dictate belief and belief should never become affected or compromised by bureaucracy.

Many people have negative experiences on some occasions when they visit a religious communal service. They quite likely may feel uncomfortable, unfamiliar, unwelcome; they could be distracted by others, not enjoy the experience, find it boring, or not wish to participate. There are many people who associate belief with what their negative experiences of particular bureaucracies may have been. It is interesting to note that the vast majority of people who go to restaurants, theatres, movies, sporting events etc., or who read books, do not simply avoid such activities due to particular bad experiences. They learn from the experiences and look for new and improved, often different ones.

Bureaucracies may not adequately reflect belief, but surely such situations should not challenge an individual’s basic personal belief. True belief is above bureaucracies.

The individual and the group; a family or a club comprised of people who choose to belong; the prayer of an individual and the collective prayer of a specific group which considers itself an integral part of a larger, wider group – this tension can be resolved by being inclusive rather than being exclusive.

This is belief together with bureaucracy.