KORBAN MINCHA: The Finest Flour (2011)

In Parshat Vayikra we read of the different kinds of ritual sacrifice. In Haftarq Vayikra we read of Israel’s need for forgiveness and atonement.

 

Parshat Vayikra describes a type of sacrifice called an olah. This term denotes the burnt offerings made by fire. The word olah alludes to the ascent of the “essence” of the sacrifice which rises “heavenward” as smoke. God’s Presence in the midst of the desert community was indicated by a cloud and a fire. With that in mind, any “burnt offering” (involving fire and smoke) may be seen as being a ritual related to the “bringing near” of the Divine Presence in some way. In this sense there is an element of ascent and an element of descent in the process and it is that which has grabbed my attention. What are we “sending up” to God and what is He "sending down" to us?

The burnt offerings are described in Leviticus 1 and 2 and they are listed according to the wealth of the one making the gift. The most wealthy offering a bullock, the less well off birds, and the poorest an offering of flour. This last of the offerings made by fire is the sacrifice we usually refer to as the Korban Minchah, the “Meal Offering”. Though the term “minchah” was originally used to describe any ritual offering, it is used in Parshat Vayikra to denote an offering of unleavened bread made using flour and oil. The word has since come to denote the afternoon prayer service which replaced the afternoon Sanctuary/Temple sacrifice.

Besides the intrinsic ingredients of the bread itself, the meal offering included the pouring of oil and the laying of frankincense. This would increase the visual intensity of the flames and would produce a strong-smelling cloud of smoke when the offering was set on fire. Oil is one of the symbols for joy and also of consecration. Frankincense is one of the symbols of purification and of devoted prayer. All sacrifices were offered with salt as well, another symbol of cleansing but also of self-sacrifice and of wealth. If we remember that a sacrifice is an act of korban, of the drawing close of God and Israel, we could say that:

Flour and Oil:The sacrifice of our prayer is most acceptable when we offer it in joy and as a part of a dedicated life, not as a separate act. (Our entire lives should be an act of worship).

Oil and Frankincense: Our own effort, our “labour”, is blended with the Fire of God’s overwhelming Love and the Inspiration of His Breath so that we might “burn” more brightly in His service.

Salt: If we perform this kind of sacrifice to the best of our ability it will serve to purify our hearts to make the drawing close of our souls with God a possibility.

The giving of charity and the nullification of our own self-importance will complete the sacrificial act and make our prayers a potential atonement for ourselves and for those for whom we pray.

In Leviticus 2:3 and in Leviticus 2:10 we are told that the minchah offering is the “most holy of all the offerings made by fire”. Today I considered why this might be.

We are told that the offering should be of "fine flour" (solet). As the minchah offering was the sacrifice brought by the very poorest people, it is significant that despite their poverty, the best grain available was to be selected. It reminds us that even in (physical or spiritual) poverty we can always afford to select the very best we have to give as our offering to God.

 This applies especially to the way we observe mitzvot. Our intention is to “beautify” the mitzvot to the best of our ability and we do this by making full use of whatever expertise, intellect, or artistic skill we might be blessed with in performing the act of service we are engaged in. For contemplative Jews, this is especially so when we pray or when we study in Hegyon Ha-Lev(meditative scriptural reflection). The hurried performance of liturgy or a skimped half-attentive period of Torah study are like inappropriate fast-food or a cake made from a packet. We are to bring only the finest ingredients….even though we are poor in the sense that our personal resources are often limited (and always imperfect), we are asked to select only the best we can offer.

An animal sacrifice involves a lot of violent drama and splashed blood and is unavoidably spectacular. To a modern sensibility it is also an emotional event. It is not just a symbol of surrendered wealth, it is also is the taking of a life and the destruction of an animal “soul”. Some may feel that the drama and enormity of the action is a sign that animal sacrifice is in some way more momentous or even superior, but the text obviously sees things in a different light. The sacrifice of minchah is not the taking of life, nor the expending of an item of great financial value, nor is it performed on a grand scale. These are highly significant factors which indicates that a much more spiritual theology of sacrifice is at work. That which distinguishes the meal offering, and therefore indicates why it is singled out as being of special value, is that a cake of wheat-meal is the product of human labour. It is a sacrifice of the humblest human effort (unleavened bread) offered with holy joy (consecrating oil) and the devotion of those cleansed of self-interest (the purifying frankincense of prayer).

The korban minchah is the gift of a poor but devoted soul to a God who has and gives everything. It is a personal offering which is act of allegiance and a statement of trust in God.  It is an act of allegiance because it involves a person “presenting” himself before the altar (performing a religious commandment). It is an act of trust because the “poor one” making the offering has chosen the finest ingredients despite the cost.

When we say the blessing over bread which we are about to eat, we always use a formula which declares that God is the one who “brings forth bread from the earth”. It is clear that this “bringing forth” involves a great deal of human work and that we are not referring to a miraculous manna. This is to teach us (at least) two things.

Firstly: all our offerings are made from things which are already God’s to start with. We provide nothing but our labour. All creation is His Gift and the life which beats even in the molecules of a grain of wheat is not simply a matter of physical activity, it is simultaneously a life which is one of God’s “garments”. We ourselves only exist by His life-giving breath, and the impulse to serve is often as much a matter of inspiration as of any independent effort on our behalf.

Secondly: it is to encourage us by reminding us that, paradoxically, our partnership in the “life” and “work” of God is by no means insignificant. It is precisely because we have collaborated intensively in the production of the bread that the minchah sacrifice is declared the most acceptable and most valuable of all the sacrifices of the temple. It represents an ideal balance between Bitahon and Hishtadlut- between relying on Providence and taking the initiative ourselves.

The flour which makes our meal offering is the finest flour when it has been purified and processed in humility and yet still represents the very best we each have to offer. In return for our acceptance that we are literally paupers who rely on Providence at every moment, another bread falls.....the manna which is our spiritual sustenance,

The finest flour is also a symbol of which kind of prayer is the most valued. We may use a formulaic liturgy-but without the work of our own kavannah, our own attention to the task of prayers and to the discipline of “creating” a liturgy afresh each day…our offering would be lacking. If we make the avodat HaKodesh…our best labour then we will have understood the core meaning of the meal offering, and why it is declared the “most holy.”

And yet, however “holy” a sacrifice is we know that our intentions, our words, our acts of love, our efforts are only actually of value in the processes of atonement or worship as signs of our willing service. This is what I meant earlier when I pointed out that our prayer is most valuable when it is offered as a part of an entire way of life that is “holy”.

Our acts of restorative justice and the creation of a channel for grace in our everyday relationships and business dealings are what make our “atonement” a reality, not just our holy words and rituals. The drawing close of man and God is a part of God not some “thing” we burn or wave at Him to get our own way. He initiates both forgiveness and pardon on the evidence of our heart and our will, and not on the offering of promises, presents, or bribes. In the end, atonement is an activity of God’s Mercy, freely given. In Haftarah Vayikra we read:

“ I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions,

For My Own Sake.”

Isaiah 43:25

His Mercy is overwhelming and beyond our comprehension. As one of the Psalms exclaims:

For His kindness overwhelmed us

And His Truth is forever

(Psalm 117:2)

We may be overwhelmed when we consider God’s “kindness”, but our euphoria is usually short lived and we forget very quickly. Even with human gifts we become forgetful. We may be stunned by someone’s generosity or by the beauty of a gift, or even its financial value. Yet how many days or weeks pass before such a treasure seems to have become an object left on a shelf, in a cupboard, or wrapped away for safe-keeping and thus never used.

How could we take God’s gifts for granted?

-His Torah and His “daily miracles” are our most valuable possessions  

-His Word is without calculable value and can create worlds 

through the partnership of our human labour...

in both the physical and spiritual realms. 

-His Presence is a Light that is meant to shine on and out… 

not be stored away for personal use.

And yet the sad fact of our history is that we do repeatedly forget “His kindness” and fail to see that He is our true “wealth”. Haftaras Vayikra- the prophetic reading which accompanies the Torah description of the sacrifices- concludes with the plea:

“Remember these things, O Jacob

And Israel, for you are my servant

I have formed you and you are My own servant

O Israel, You should not forget Me.”

Isaiah 44:21

This is not just a coincidence. The act of sacrifice and the act of memory are closely related. There are those who would say that a large part of the rationale of our liturgy-in both the sacrificial cult and the rabbinic siddur- is to remind us and not God of the situation we are in. That the acts of prayer are not so much ways of attracting God’s attention (for He “sees” us always) as ways of focussing our attention on God.

Rituals are a way of recalling an event or concept of religious significance. They are an especially potent and effective aid to memory: a set of practices which encourages us to remember God’s “kindnesses” and just how “overwhelming” they really are. This function of remembrance is especially obvious in the mitzvot of tzitzit, tefillin, and the observance of Shabbat.

For a contemplative, it is also the act of prayer itself- in the dialogue of hitbodedut, in the infused contemplation of hitbonenut, and in the focussed recitation of the formal liturgy- which brings us most profoundly into the state of “remembering” God’s Presence and His gifts to us. All forms of Jewish prayer are both acts of ascending gratitude and praise and descending acts of Divine recollection. We are not just remembering God, He is in some way involving Himself with us. We are not recalling God’s deeds so much as becoming more consciously a part of His Being.

Our prayers are both an olah (an ascent) of praise and petition and a vehicle for the descent of God’s Mercy in the form of a heavenly manna. In other words, we present the finest flour of devotion and trust in His Providence. He blesses us with the daily sustenance which we need in order to serve Him. We are given just enough faith and trust to enable us to follow one step at a time.

But perhaps the most important aspect of the meal offering is that it is the offering of one who is “poor”. By poor I mean: clear sighted in humility before God who creates and owns all (koneh hakol). Whatever its theological dynamics or liturgical significance...the thing which makes the korban minchah most special for me is that it is not an offering demonstrating the sacrifice of one’s own “wealth” : but it is a demonstration of one’s intent to give the best one can. That is an act by which we remember God’s overwhelming kindness and through which we hope He will regard us as being His faithful servants. And it is a prayerful act of sacrifice, a korban minchah of the finest flour, which anyone can offer.

The small contribution we make in any offering to God is our effort. And though it is a small offering, in God’s eyes it is far from insignificant. Parshat Vayikra describes the person who offers the korban minchah as “nefesh” (a soul) not as “ish” or “adam” (a man). In the Talmud we read:

"For what reason is the introduction to the mincha changed, to say 'nefesh?' The Holy One said, Who is it who usually brings a mincha? A poor person. I will therefore consider it as though he sacrifices his soul (nefesh) before Me."

(Menachot 104b)

Nachman Davies

8th March 2011

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For Those Who Are "Alone" On Shabbat

Zawiyya AnNur      Safed      Erev Shabbat 2025    ©N.Davies 

The  Single and  Unmarried  Jew is sometimes regarded with sadness or pity by some Jews.  Despite being halachically and  liturgically  marginal with regard  to our generally perceived role in Kehal Yisrael, we are actually extremely numerous.    

Solitary Jews  are often  people still searching for  a life partner or  elderly people whose families and friends have  moved elsewhere. But then, there are also Jews who are Single  and  Unmarried by choice. 

Though I was not  always  celibate, I chose to follow the  lead of  the  tiny minority of   respected   Jewish  Sages and Tzadikim who actually supported or practiced eremitic lifestyles: for  I have  been living  as a celibate  Dedicated Jewish Contemplative—a Mitkarev—for  over twenty years now.    In all that time I have  been utterly contented, grateful, and  joyous  living  this  way. 

But many Single  and  Unmarried Jews do not choose to be  single or solitary. 

For  the predominant majority of  Jewish Singles, the notion of partnership and  marriage is very much  a hope, or a dream, and  an active  goal, and  those striving to reach that goal   receive every encouragement from the majority of Jews; rightly so as marriage  and the  family unit  represents the usual  mainstream understanding  of the  commandment to be  fruitful and  multiply.

 (It is, however not  the  only possible interpretation: By halacha, the commandment should  be fulfilled biologically, but there are  midrashic and philosophical Jewish opinions  that are more in favour  of a metaphorical interpretation derived from Genesis12:5. Some  have   proposed that this commandment can be  fulfilled by becoming a  teacher with many  students.)

For  others—whether their  solitary status  is  caused by age, disability, genetics, biology, or  personality—the  search for the  other half of one's orange (a Spanish idiom for  one's beshert) is  not  a priority, and  it may not  be a realistic or feasable  aim for  them to reach  at all.   For  those people the predominant "Jewish majority" system offers little encouragement  psychologically.

And  then, there are others who  may have  been forced to live far from Jewish communities  by  employment or other practical and  sometimes purely geographical limitations. They may never receive  invitations  to attend  Shabbat meals or  attend family-orientated gatherings. In such situations Shabbat dining can be  a  decidedly gloomy affair. 

Some  caring and  kindly communities organise food-packages and written Shabbat cards which they distribute to congregants who live alone and  are unable  to get out and  about.  Many congregations  have financial assistance available for such people, assistance  that gives the beneficiaries comfort as well as financial security, and  in these activities the givers receive their spiritual reward quietly and anonymously, lest their care for  others slips  into mere virtue-signalling.  These are highly laudable acts of Justice: acts of commanded Tzedaka that benefit both giver and  receiver.

But sometimes these Shabbat treats can leave  the single or solitary recipient feeling they have been singled out as "unfortunates", or as  "sad and  somehow incomplete" people  who need comforting and supporting, simply because they are alone.  Such an impression can sometimes deepen the single  person's feelings of loneliness.    

I have  been present  at festival meals  organised specifically and  exclusively for large numbers of  single Jews without families.  The  aim of the  benefactors was surely a kind one, and  for  many of  those  who prefer to see themselves as  ''lonely souls'' I expect it gave  much comfort. But the  overall feeling I sensed was that of being waited upon by those more "fortunate".

On the  other hand, in tourist cities that also have huge student populations  (like  my own city of Tzfat), several congregations organise Shabbat meals  on a  regular basis  to cater for the  fluid student and  tourist population.  For these "Jewish Singles" the  experience is much less segregational and  the  familial/marital nature of  the guests'  status is not the focus at all.  For  the  tourists,  it is  a matter of Shabbat practicality; and for  the  younger student Singles it may also assuage their understandable feelings  of homesickness.   

Personally, though my chosen eremitic lifestyle precludes making social dining a frequent practice,  I have  felt  much happier when invited to dine at  small,mixed, and inclusive Shabbat or Festival meals hosted privately by  individuals—with or  without a family present — because there, I have always  been made to feel part of  the mixed group invited.  Sometimes I have  even felt that I had become a genuine "part of  the  family".  I have  been blessed to experience such a  welcome both in Spain and  here in Israel by thoughtful Jews who did not see me  as  a "charity-case"  simply because  I am  single and  without  family.

Many Single  and  Unmarried Jews do not actually feel lonely at all. They have either accepted their status happily in equanimity; in a grateful stoicism that focuses on other aspects  of  their life and often on the needs of  others.

 In particular, those within that group who are also Solitaries-By-Choice are necessarily strong people who display an even firmer independence and sense of contentment.

But again such people are a minority.

In this brief commentary, I hope  to dispel some  of  the gloom felt by those Jews who do  not choose their life-styles and  who do feel lonely, by reminding them that they too have  been given the Sabbath to be  a joy and  a delight.

I  hope  to offer them some  encouragement  to adjust their perspective a little in order to  see their solitary  Sabbath observance in a more positive  light.  

The  Sabbath was given to ALL JEWS—and  it should (and  can)  be a "delight" for  those who are single by choice and  also for  those single or  alone against their  will. 

With the  perspective  that I  presented in the  following  essay from 2007—even those who did  NOT choose their solitude can find a spiritual home by spending Shabbat with their Divine Partner.  Read on!

oooOooo  

The Flaming  Cherubim of Shabbat (2007)

"It does not fall to everyone of us to “welcome the stranger” to our Sabbath dining table. Nor do we always have human messengers/family/friends for company. But all of us, whether we are alone or in company, will welcome the Sabbath “herself”.

That moment of welcome is represented by the ceremony of lighting the two Sabbath candles.  

Though in many families, and  by traditional halacha, this candle lighting   is  the  responsiblity of a wife or mother, men too are enjoined to light  candles at this  time if they are alone (though artistic representations of  men  actually doing this  are hard to find!!)  The  Sabbath is  usually welcomed (as it  were) by single  males during  their Friday evening davening....but  for  those male  Jews who live  alone, they  are  obligated to light  the  home-base candles themselves. 

In many homes the  lighting of Shabbat Candles is  followed by another ceremony: that of welcoming two mysterious  "Sabbath angels"  by singing the song “Shalom Aleichem”.  

The “folk custom” of welcoming the Sabbath angels is perhaps the development of a Talmudic story of the two angels (one "good" and one “bad” ) who enter the house on a Friday evening to check on the inhabitant’s level of observance. If all has been well prepared for Shabbat the “good” angel expresses the wish that it may be the same on the following week’s Sabbath. The “bad” angel is compelled to answer “Amen” to this. If all has not been well prepared, the “bad” angel expresses his wish that the following weeks’ Sabbath be the same. The “good” angel is then compelled to answer “Amen” to that. (Shabbat 119b)

I am not at ease with that Talmudic story and never have been. The implied dualist theology doesn't make sense to me, but I have a simpler objection: Some people no doubt find the notion of spying angels to be a valuable spur to encourage timely accuracy and precise care in greeting the Sabbath with alacrity. Being predisposed to anxiety, the last thing I need on a Friday is the idea of an angelic competition going on at my heels or over my shoulder. My hope as I charge about with the mop and crash through the saucepan and plate barrier is that my Abrahamic haste to welcome  the  Sabbath as my guest  will be appreciated in the heavenly court by the Judge Himself. If I don’t quite make the deadlines, then I rely on His mercy.

Having thus declared my position on the Sabbath Angels as they appear in the Talmud… I will now share the way in which I do make an angelic presence felt at my Sabbath table.

 I cannot remember where I first read the idea that the two Sabbath candles are reminiscent of the two keruvim (angelic cherubim) of the Ark of the Covenant (Num. 7:89)…or of the idea that the Divine Presence somehow “rests between” their flames…. but for me, that is a concept which makes the Friday night meal of Shabbat glow with a special light .

 In my own little 1994 prayer book I made a pictorial statement about this link in the illustrations I used for the song “Shalom Aleichem” (a 17th century kabbalistic hymn welcoming the angels) and for the candle blessing. The gate which marks the entrance to Shabbat is guarded by two angels, shown here with the outstretched wings of the keruvim of the Ark:

(click on graphic to enlarge)

The pillars of this gate are in flame as they are the two Sabbath candle-sticks. On the base of the candlesticks are the two Hebrew letters representing “Shamor” (Observe) and "Zachor” (Remember).

The connection between the angels/keruvim/candle-flames is echoed in the following pages which show the candle-blessing:

(click on graphic to enlarge)

It is the “Gate of Shabbat” seen from the other side. The candles on the table are like the keruvim. The “Name of God” is written between the flames and highlighted as if it were shining.

There are traditional meditation practices which recommend focussing on the space between the two flames of the Sabbath candles: a space believed to be pregnant with a memory of the presence of the Shekinah resting over the Ark.

The guest we have been hurriedly preparing for is the “Sabbath Peace”. For me, that is a sort of reflection of God’s Presence.

I spend almost all my Sabbath evening dinners alone, but I have only once experienced the despair or lonely anguish which I know many other single and isolated Jews feel regularly at that time. I have never felt like giving the candle lighting and the laying of the special table a miss. I know there are those who find the idea of lighting the Sabbath candles alone at home just too much to bear. It is as though it were underlining their feelings of isolation.

For many years, I have sat at the Sabbath table every Friday and have gazed into that warm space between the two candles in front of me. Maybe ten times I have made it a formal meditation session…..but more usually I have just rested in the light….. warmed by a special meal and sweet wine, and by a wordless companionship with HaShem: The One who is Present. He was/is always there but on a Friday evening, He  rests between the  keruvim again.

If you are ever alone for that Friday meal, and especially if you are usually alone for it,…..don’t be afraid of lighting those candles. You have a very special Divine Guest. Make it a candle-lit dinner for two. Shabbat Shalom."

© Nachman Davies

Safed
Rosh Hodesh Adar

February 2026

Hanukah: The Light of The Tzaddik

           

To celebrate Hanuka 2025, Here is a reposting of an essay originally presented on this website in 2010.

" The story of Joseph, which is spread over four parashot in the book of Genesis, is always read at the time we celebrate the Festival of Hanuka. The themes of that festival are Light, Providence, Dedication and Miracles. The story of Joseph does not relate closely to the theme of Light and yet, in way, it is all about Light: the Light of the Tzaddik or “Righteous One” which is a beacon to those who would follow the path of righteousness..Though the sages disagree about whether Joseph’s youthful vanity and insensitive pride were due to naiveté or just to downright nastiness, they all agree that Joseph’s subsequent behaviour makes him Ha Tzaddik, and a model for all who would be “righteous”. His particular flame is one which burns to show us that miracles are happening all the time if only we would open our eyes to see them, and that behind all the efforts of man is the gift of God in Providence (Hashgachah Pratit). As we read in Psalm 85:

“The Lord will provide what is good...

Righteousness (tzedek) will walk before Him

And He will set his footsteps on the path.”

Psalm 85 13-14

In parshat Vayigash, Joseph reminds his brothers that:

“It was not you who sent me here, but God”.

Genesis 45:8

Even the call to live a life of prayer as a dedicated contemplative is a summons and not something we have truly initiated ourselves... and anything that happens thereafter is something that God does and not something anyone, however righteous, could ever attain by themselves. Joseph knew this and the rabbis who described the re-dedication of the Temple as a miracle knew it too.

In the Joseph narrative we are given a model to follow.

It is not an accident that Joseph is called “The” tzaddik.

On the path of those who would be “righteous” his story is a beacon.

Devekut: Becoming the Light which is “all Prayer”

The story of Joseph is a story about escaping from the confinement of spiritual captivity.

I have been considering the story of Joseph in the light of the Psalm text:

“In return for my love they accuse me,

But I am all prayer”

Psalm 109:4

In Parshat Vayeshev, Joseph is cast into a waterless pit and then sold as a slave by his own brothers;

He is wrongly accused of attempted rape by his master’s wife and ends up in the dank dungeon of Pharaoh;

He is then used as a counsellor and dream-interpreter by his jail-mates, one of whom (the chief butler) does nothing to assist the captive Joseph once he himself is freed.

In return for his love they accused him.

But there is no record of any complaint here, nor of revenge, nor of any resultant lack of faith in the heart of Joseph the righteous one.

Why?

Because, as the psalm puts it: “He is all prayer”.

One who cleaves to God does so through all the aspects of their life and not solely in their contemplation and meditation.

Joseph did not lose his trust in God’s Providence even when circumstances turned from good to bad.

Why?

Because he knew already that “interpretations belong to God” (Genesis 40:8)

He knew that ultimately none of us can see the details of the Divine Plan accurately and that consequently it is foolish to question Divine Wisdom- even when this plan seems far darker and more painful than humans would themselves wish. Creation is not always explicable and some events only make sense to us in retrospect.

Joseph was sorely tried by the people he came into contact with domestically and socially- both at home and at work. It is not always our families or our friends or our colleagues who can appear to be sent to try us- though that surely happens. Sometimes the “accusers” are our very own thoughts.

At times, we may be too hard on ourselves in self-criticism. At times we may feel that we are talentless or just plain lost in the world of contemplative action and feel that we are achieving little or nothing at all. If this worries us, it is because we have not freed ourselves from expectation...and it should humble us by offering us a clear proof that that we are still attached to the effects of our prayer-lives on ourselves or on others.

God Himself seems to accept our failings, as we read:

“He frequently withdraws His anger, and does not arouse all His rage.

And He remembered that they were but flesh

A passing wind that does not return.”

(Psalm 78: 38-39)

yet in our pride and desire for self importance or in our senseless perfectionism we set ourselves above Him and His Judgment.

In doing these things we imprison ourselves. Our only hope in making our way out of that captivity, our only sure escape route out of our own “waterless pit” or “dank dungeon”- is to make our own lives “all prayer”. When we are completely engaged in doing that, we lose self-observation, and when we leave the outcomes of prayer and its effects on us to God then our failings are no longer perceived as obstacles- but can simply be accepted as character weaknesses we are aware of, are working on, but which we defuse so that they can no longer block our progress.

We do this by remembering that the key to our spiritual liberation is not to shout at the dark but to light a candle. This is a message which is very appropriate to the current festival of Hanukkah but it is applicable throughout the year.

Prayer may seem a decidedly blunt weapon against the “accusers”...but it isn’t. As many have observed, a small flame can fill a very large dark space with light.

I read last week that (in deepest darkness, far away from artificial light) a small candle flame can be seen by the human eye from a distance of up to five miles.

The flame of prayer is a bright reminder of the Original Light. Just because something is hidden does not mean that it is not powerful. It is by the light of the kind of prayer we call devekut that Joseph was able to interpret dreams, for the light of contemplative prayer is a guiding lamp on the path towards the near-prophetic state of Ruach ha-Kodesh.

Devekut means “cleaving to God” in utterly devoted thought and action. When we pray and live in devekut we can become “God’s intimate friends” (to use Avraham ben Maimon’s term [as translated by Wincelberg]). In that state we may sometimes become channels for the Light. Not  “directly” in the way a prophet does—but “reflectively” through receptive contemplative prayer.

The small light of Prayer is only “small” in the way that a laser beam is small. In other words, its size belies its enormous power.... for the light of contemplative prayer is drawn from the Light of God Himself:

“For with You is the source of life,and in Your light we shall see light.

Extend Your kindness to those who know you

And your righteousness to the upright of heart.”

(Psalm 36: 10:11)

It is no accident that a hierarchy is present in those verses. They describe a process:

• God originates Light.
• He makes this Light our point of connection with His Presence and our guiding beacon.
• When we are “living in intimate relation” to those two statements -in contemplative prayer- we can become potential channels of that Light ourselves.

In other words: Our act of prayer itself is sometimes the means by which the Divine Chesed  is “extended” to others. Nor is it just our prayer that can become such a channel -our whole life can become suffused with this Light, at least potentially. As members of the Jewish People, each one of us has made covenant with the God of Israel and each one of us lives a life of dedication in His service. Whether we are engaged in prayer or washing the dishes, davening the liturgy or caring for our sick relatives, studying the Parshah or busy in our “secular” employment... we all have the potential to be “all prayer” as that little light of inestimable power can enter through the tiniest of cracks.

Hishtavut: Allowing the Sons of the Tzaddik to Light the Way

In Parshat Mikkeitz, Joseph names his sons Menashe and Efrayim.

They are “God has enabled me to forget my sufferings”

And “Fruitfulness in the midst of my affliction”.

We are all Joseph.

The name Joseph means “God increases”.

We are all Joseph , for our spiritual progeny, our “increase” is like these two “sons”.

In our journey through this life we are presented with situations, relationships, challenges, and trials which often require us to make decisions and choices in order to progress through the gates along the way.

Our reactions and decisions and the consequences of our choices are the fruitfulness (Efrayim) which follows the “first-born” experiences of awakened-equanimity (hishtavut) and a positive assimilation of whatever has happened to us in life previously (Menashe). It is by conquering our regrets about the past, or the difficulties which challenge us, or the obstacles which are placed in our path that we produce Menashe and it is by the creativity of our resolution-making that we bring ourselves into the inheritance of Efrayim. We cut our ties with the pain and failure of yesterday when we rise up with a plan for a more devoted and productive today and tomorrow.

Again, I’ll consider Joseph’s life in the light of a psalm text:

“For you freed my soul from death.

My eye from tears,

And my foot from stumbling.

I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.”

Psalm 116: 8-9

He was “freed from death” when he emerged from the waterless pit in the desert and when he was vindicated before Pharaoh after his incarceration. His “tears were dried” when ( at the end of the Joseph narrative in Parshat Vayigash) he is re-united with his brothers in forgiveness and peace. He was able to avoid “stumbling” when he refused to respond to the seduction of his mistress and also when he chose not to punish his brothers in revenge or hateful retribution but, instead, chose to give them a hard but compassionate lesson in brotherly-love. A lesson which could lead not to destruction but to further creation.

Out of affliction came fruitfulness.

In remembering God we can forget our failings.

These two are the sons of Joseph sent to light our way.

Hegyon ha-Lev: Meditating in The Light of the Torah

And there is another way in which we can see something of the light which guided Joseph and make its illumination the key to our escape from confinement:- Biblical Prophecy itself can also act as a beacon.

We may not see the details of the Divine Plan, but there is one way to come close. In the Haftarah  of  Vayeshev we read:

“For the Lord will do nothing without first revealing His plan to His servants the Prophets”

Amos 3:7

God speaks to each one of us in our hearts but he also speaks to us through the scriptures and his servants the prophets have given us texts through which we can glimpse some of the depths of that Divine Plan even if it we do not quite understand the half of it ourselves. The words of the Torah and the Prophets are channels of that Original Light in a way which can open the gates of our constricted consciousness to show us glimpses not just of the path to be taken but also something of the Expansive Realm of God Himself.

By reading the words of our scriptures prayerfully in Hegyon ha-Lev (Lectio Divina) we may find that we ourselves are able to receive a form of revelation ourselves. It may not be “prophetic revelation”, but it is related to prophecy in its directness.

Our “study which is prayer” and our “prayer which is study” are the dual guides on the road out of spiritual captivity by our personal small-mindedness. They are like twin angels, keruvim of light, which show us the way to the Merchav-Yah, the wide open consciousness of the World of Thought- and their names are Observe (shamor) and Remember (zachor).

Bitachon: Seeing through God’s Eyes

The key to being a tzaddik after the fashion of Joseph is to see that though we are called upon to “walk before God” in righteousness...we should also be the first to see that even our efforts to do this are themselves gifts from God, because God enabled Joseph and enables us to overcome obstacles and become fruitful. If Joseph had not had explicit faith and trust in the Providence of God he would not have been able to endure his captivity so lightly- and perhaps he would not have been so charitable towards his fellow prisoners and to his offending brothers. His faith (composed of emunah/hishtavut/bitachon -each in good measure) was rooted in the knowledge that God Himself is the only true “force” for growth and for good.

This is the message of the  Mikkeitz Haftarah text in Zechariah 4:6....and one of the key messages of the festival of Hanukkah which we are about to celebrate.

The text reads:

“Not by might and not by Power,

But by My Spirit, says the Lord of Hosts”

Zechariah 4:6

Not by might

- through our own efforts and ambitions to make spiritual progress

Nor by power

- through an attempt to coerce God to do our will rather than His

But by the breath of God

-An effortless caress of the will of God given to us (or not) according to His desire

This breath is the inspiration of Adonai Tzevaot,

(the all powerful Lord of Armies)

And so it defeats all our enemies for us

Blowing away the cloying debris of our past lives,

And clearing the path before us.

God Himself replaces the regrets of our past failings and the paralising fear of the future with the trust and hopeful creativity of the “sons” of Joseph. If we let Him.

If Joseph’s life is a beacon for us in our own journey out of spiritual captivity.... It reminds us that Trust in God (bitachon) is the mark of a tzaddik (and the mark of one who would become a tzaddik).

• When we accept that God has a Plan which is often not immediately comprehensible to us--we are following the Light which Joseph followed.

• When we allow the Mercy of God to temper our own rage,frustration,envy or cold-heartedness- we are following the Path on which Joseph walked.

• When we make our lives an act of positive and outflowing Creation in partnership with the Eternally Present One-we are becoming like the “Sons” of Joseph.

With God’s help, we can maintain our trust in Providence even when things are tough, and without expecting the world to be turned upside down for our own benefit..... then we might find, like Joseph, that God has been with us in the “darkness” of our captivity all along.

As we say each morning in the blessing Yotzeir Or:

“Blessed are You Lord

who makes light

Yet creates darkness”.

Both light and darkness are His servants.

When we see by that lamp of insight --so are we. "

Nachman Davies

Nov 29 2010

(The photo which heads this article is of Hanuka in my hermitage in Granada-- taken in 2008. It may be used but please credit it, according to the terms of this website ,  as  "Light in Darkness: Nachman Davies 2008 "  )

AT THE GATE OF SHABBAT (from Sept. 2011)

Parshat Ki Tavo begins with the phrase “When you enter”. It is one of the speeches which Moses made as the community was preparing to enter the Promised Land. “Ki tavo el ha-aretz”.

I see a parallel between the Biblical People of Israel waiting to enter the Promised Land in Parshat Ki Tavo and the Eternal Community of Israel waiting to enter Shabbat each Friday.

Last Friday it occurred to me that Friday often feels like a “lost” day. For most of us, it is spent in frantic preparation for Shabbat.  Each Friday we are often rushing about cleaning, cooking, buying last minute treats, finishing off tasks before leaving work, hurrying through traffic to beat the clock- and before we know it the day is gone in a flash and the heat of midday has become the dusk before the candles are lit.

Friday is the Sixth day and we read Ki Tavo on the Sixth “Shabbat of Consolation”. Man was created on the sixth day - and what was His first day on earth? It was the seventh day, the Sabbath of God’s rest (menuchah) and mankind’s joy (simcha). All the business of the six days of creation, all our efforts during the six working days, and all the rush of our erev Shabbat preparations are there to create what? 

 They exist solely for the sake of the menuchah and the simcha of Shabbat.

In Parshas Ki Tavo (at Deut.27:4) what is the first practical task that we are enjoined to make on arriving in the Promised Land? It is that we should make an altar of unhewn stones (a place for sacrifice and prayer) and set up the twelve stones of the Law (a kind of Beit HaMidrash for the study and meditation on the Torah). Once these symbols have been created we are then enjoined to “eat there” and to “rejoice” in God’s presence (Deut. 27:7)

This is reflected in the way we set the Shabbat table, light the candles, say the Kiddush (which is both study and prayer) and then rejoice in “holy eating and singing” in the presence of our G-d. The moment of transition is marked by the Kiddush text which refers to Creation and to the Exodus...both of which are woven into the narrative of Parshat Ki Tavo.

The earthly stones of our weekly labours from our six days of ordinary yet creative existence, have been re-fashioned as an altar to G-d. Yet all we offer has actually been given us by G-d, so in fact we are simply returning all to The One who is their Origin (This coincidentally is also the theme of the bikkurim passage in Ki Tavo).

It is the Ner Shabbat, the light of Shabbat which transforms the ordinary and makes of this moment a gateway between the worlds.

 A gateway which opens once a week,every week, so that God’s blessings may stream into our lives and so that we may, for a short while, stand in its threshold and feel the pull to cross over into its other-worldly dimension. I’m using the phrase “other-worldly” specifically.

The six days of creation are concerned with the physical world

And they end with the breath of life entering the first man.

The seventh day is the day on which G-d “takes a breath”

And breathes that sigh of His own eternal contentment into all creation.

The six days are the “olam hazeh”.

The world as we (most usually) perceive in the “now”.

-The way things seem to be.

Shabbos is “mein l’olam ha-ba”

A foretaste of the world which is coming

-The way things truly are.

And so the sixth day is like a gateway.

That’s why Friday sometimes seems to disappear in a flash.

In truth it is not like the other six days.

Its unique purpose is transitional and it symbolises a threshold.

Why is man created?

To do God’s will.

To be God’s activity in the world (olam hazeh).

Why is Shabbat created?

To move creation nearer to completion

To enable us to become God’s mind in the world(olam haba).

.....

On finishing my Hegyon ha-Lev (meditative reading of the Parshah and its Haftarah) I opened the book of psalms at random, and the verse which I landed on confirmed to me that my passing thought about Erev Shabbat as a gate was a pointer to something:

“Enter His gates with thanksgiving

And His courts with Praise.”

Psalm 100:4

This immediately reminded me of the verse in the Leil Shabbat song “L’cha Dodi” which exclaims: “Enter in Peace, O Crown of the Husband” (Boi b’Shalom ateret ba’alah).

It did not surprise me to find that the same hymn was also linked to Haftara Ki Tavo where we read:

“Arise, Shine for your light is come
And the Glory of HaShem shines upon you”

Isaiah 60:1

This verse is paraphrased in L’cha dodi as:

“Wake up, wake up
For your light has come: rise,shine!
Awake, awake, break out in song
For the LORD’s glory is revealed on you.”

(Koren-Sachs siddur p 320)

The lighting of the Sabath candles

 marks the acceptance of Shabbat in the home.

Though they are plural, the Sabbath candles

 represent the One Light of Shabbat.

This light is the same light 

by which the worlds were created 

and by which the Torah descended.

  It is the same Light 

which transforms our “ordinary blurred perception”

 into G-d’s “True perspective”.

Just as the Pioneers were commanded to build an altar of unhewn stone, so the one entering Shabbat knows that the rest (menuchah) that is about to descend is not something they have made or deserved by their own hard work...but that it is something which is a transformative gift from God. In the same way the joy (simchah) we are given is not mere relief that the working week is over- it is a distinct and profound enlargement of the heart’s spiritual capacity. We light the candles, but the Light itself is God’s. We read in Haftara Ki Tavo that the light of the sun and moon will become (as it were) redundant and that:

“HaShem will be to you as an everlasting light (Or Olam)”

Isaiah 60:19

It is this light which we foreshadow when we light the Sabbath candles.

Haftara Ki Tavo is concerned with the restoration of Zion, but it also refers to the restoration of the individual soul. We experience a memory of that future event (sic) each erev Shabbat. Shabbat is a foretaste of that eternal moment, and each Friday that moment comes closer. 

 In both the Haftarah and in the hymn “L’cha Dodi” it is expressed as an event which shocks, which is full of excitement, which is akin to being shaken awake by a blinding light.

The Haftarah speaks of excitement so great our hearts will throb and enlarge (Isaiah 60:5), “L’cha Dodi” adjures us to welcome Shabbat as “she” enters with “joy and jubilation” . The Torah parshah (Deut 27:7) tells us we should “rejoice before the Lord our God.” 

........

I am writing this meditative and informal commentary in Elul, the pentitential month of preparation for the Royal Judgement of the coming Yamim Nora’im.

That text from Psalm 100 speaks of Gates and Courts.

In Elul (or any time of decision or self examination)

we know these have a particularly poignant message for us.

Gates

Are traditionally our places of Judgement but also of Mercy.

At a gate one may find a beit din gathered for justice

Or a beggar crying out for alms;

In Elul we are sometimes judges of our own crimes;

Sometimes we are criminal supplicants hoping for a lenient sentence;

Sometimes we are just desperate beggars exhausted after a journey through a spiritual desert.

Gates

Are like the threshold of the Cave

Where the Elijah-in-us hears a questioning voice

Examining our past like a relentless laser.

They are also like the Door of the Tent of Meeting

Where the Moses-in-us hears the Word of HaShem,

Offering us mitzvot with which to make atonement

And inspiration to plan for a renewed future.

And they are like the place where all the worlds meet.

The moment in which we face the unanswerable Fiftieth Question

That can lead to our giving up

Or deciding to begin again with a soul washed clean (as it  were) at Yom Kippur.

Courtyards

Are the places where our community gathers for worship.

When we pray we are never standing before God alone.

All Israel stands waiting, waiting, in that temple courtyard as Elul moves to a close.

We are there together in order to help each other.

It’s a time to share forgiveness, charity, encouragement, hope.

A time to accept that some of us may fail or fall

Like animals to the slaughter

But to smile at each other in showing that acceptance of the yoke of heaven

Is our purpose.

That whatever the verdict may be- it is from the Hand of G-d

And in accepting it with love we are being who we are called to be.

Courtyards

Are for insiders

They are for those who have managed to gain admission through those imposing gates,

Through those twin mountains of terror and awe: Gerizim and Ebal.

If we are fortunate enough to have been invited in,

Let’s hope we do all we can to remain there

By not shirking our duty as contemplatives.

After all, there is another psalm (which we say each day in Elul) that marks us out:

“One thing I ask of HaShem
One thing I seek:
To live in the House of HaShem all the days of my life,
To gaze on the beauty of HaShem
And worship in His Temple”

Psalm 27:4

May we find ways to escape even the sins we commit in secret and throw ourselves on the Mercy of the Judge.

Confident that He is showing us the “blessings and curses” of Parshat Ki Tavo

only as way to “Wake us up” so that we may “Arise and Shine”-

May we turn towards Him with joy to balance our fear.

And may each Shabbat be a gateway to that joy,

so that as each week passes through its Sixth Day

we may enter and be lifted up,

Each week ascending in His light just that little bit more,

To the day which is always Shabbat.

Nachman Davies

(Aharon-Nachman ben Abraham)

Sept 12 2011

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