Jewish Contemplatives: Contemplative Simplicity in the Room of Elisha

Let us now make for him a small chamber on the roof

and put in it a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp.

II Melachim 4:10

The above text describes the guest room built by the Shunamite woman for Elisha HaNavi. Though quite luxurious by Biblical era standards—to us, it might seem to be a perfect description of a monastic cell: no need for a wardrobe for sets of clothes; no need for luxuries; no need for additional decorative objects. Yet it is totally practical and, one hopes, comfortable. Being on the roof—it even had a certain physical isolation from the rest of the house. Dedicated Jewish Contemplatives do not seek the asceticism of Christian monks, but we ought to be aware that our real needs are actually very few. As we are reminded by our sages:

This is the way of Torah: You should eat bread with salt and drink water in small measure, sleep on the ground, and live a life of privation as you work in your study of the Torah [1]

This does not mean that we should seek asceticism for its own sake, but that we should accept any deprivations or sacrifices that we need to make (or which we are destined to shoulder) with equanimity, especially if they are to assist us in the study of Torah.

Furthermore, we ought to maintain a simplicity in our immediate environment as it encourages an uncluttered approach to our prayer life and daily contemplative and practical routines. Distractions and diversions can so easily become the ‘unnecessary furniture’ of our internal monastic cells—and keeping that spiritual and psychological ‘space’ uncluttered is a never-ending task. The Camaldolese hermits of the Christian tradition have long believed that one who seeks contemplative contact with the Divine should simply "remain alone in one's monastic cell, for it will teach you everything" — this is surely a concept that was revealed,par execellence, to Eliyahu in his cave as well as to Elisha in his rooftop "meditation room".

A simple private room/space is really all we need to sit down and try to talk to and listen to our G-d.

A bookcase would be nice, perhaps.

Or maybe the only book we really need is the Torah written on our hearts?

ooOoo

In the Zohar [2] and in the Sipurey Ma’asiot [3] of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, this passage in the life of Elisha is treated mystically.

The bed, table, chair, and lamp of II Melachim 4:10 are there presented as allusions to significant items in the Mishkan and later Temple: Elisha’s bed and chair referring to the Ark and its Cover; his table referring to the Table of Offering; and his lamp to the Menorah.[4] In Rebbe Nachman’s tale, the contemplative/tzaddik has to re-adjust the positions of these objects ever so slightly in order to effect tikkun.

It may be significant that, several times, Rebbe Nachman states that the re-adjustment is a slight one: We are each a small element in G-d’s creation, but our our apparently minor attempts to restore order, peace, harmony, love, hospitality, generosity, and balance into our surroundings are potentially acts of major significance. For a contemplative whose primary field of action is spiritual, upholding this principle is an act of faith which requires chutzpah to declare, and determination to maintain, day after day.

Specifically Jewish asceticism consists not so much in physical penance or mortification as being content with what one is given and in streamlining one’s spirituality. At its most profound level this involves bitul ha yesh (the negation of our self-awareness/self regard) but it can begin on a small scale in paring away the most superficial, inessential, and distracting elements in our contemplative way of life.

The room of Elisha might be taken as a perfect example of such moderating simplicity. It took care of basic needs, was sufficiently comfortable, and yet it kept things simple, streamlined, and on an unpretentious scale.

ooOoo

We have a duty to enjoy and to be grateful for the good fortune we have, just as we have a duty to express this gratitude in the acts of social justice and charitable generosity. More than that, as Jews we are aware that enjoyment is almost a sacred duty.[5]

Spending a little money on our whims and fancies can lift our spirits, and it really can be a noble therapy if applied from time to time. In moderation it is a part of the Jewish celebration of life. But spending, acquiring, and possessing can so easily become a distraction and a burden for one who wants to study Torah ‘full-time’.

Misuse of funds and of physical energies is a concern for all Jews. There is an equally tenacious but more clandestineform of ‘energy dissipation' which the contemplative, in particular, has to guard against: the creation and cultivation of superfluous spiritual needs or engaging in mystical shopping-therapy. The cycle of needless desire and acquisition can be at work there as well.

Studying the thoughts and discoveries of others is one of the ways in which we learn. For Jews, the thoughts of our predecessors in mysticism can often be a safeguard and (almost but not quite) a route-map. It is true that we can be temporarily carried away into the world of deep prayer whilst engaged in such religious study. Sometimes this can be the very deepest prayer for we are only truly in contemplative prayer when we no longer realise that we are praying.

Similarly, the thoughts of our contemplative contemporaries, both in print and online, are often an exciting and refreshing stimulus to our own development. Quite obviously and laudably, we need to be faithful to our tradition and study the works of those who have gone before us and those who walk with us. But we can overdo this.

The tendency to be permanently and actively attached to an iphone or a tablet (or whichever new media-toy is in vogue by the time you read this) means that we may be more easily sidetracked into periphal chatting or doodling or socializing on the media-toy and thus completely forget that we were searching for a particular Talmudic reference or halachic psak when we picked it up. Furthermore, it encourages us to think and feel at a speed that makes considered reflection a rareity.

I do not carry a phone or an internet device around with me, but I often ask myself how many hours have I spent browsing ‘religious/spiritual’ websites when I should have been standing in receptive prayer?

Is it right that a contemplative should spend more time in such study than in undiluted solitary prayer?

How often have I put off the hour of prayer by extending time spent on some less viscerally-exposed and stoic activity so that when the time came for davening or hisbodedus- all I had the energy for was a brief liturgical recitation and a few passing words in the Divine ear?

I would be the first person to echo the Kotzker Rebbe’s dictum that the hour of prayer should be delayed until sufficient preparation has been made.

He declared that there were no clocks in his community, only souls.

He reminded us that the woodcutter is engaged in his trade even while sharpening his tools.

But I still think that, for the aspiring and the experienced contemplative alike, the number one distraction is to be excessively engaged in reading, talking, (or writing!) about spirituality and contemplation when the task at hand is meant to be action not theory.

Praying is the MAIN task of the dedicated Jewish Contemplative—but because it can often be demanding, we put it off, we skimp on it, and we allow our energies to be spent elsewhere.

At the risk of repeating myself ad nauseam lectorem:

-Contemplation is not about possessing or attaining-

It is about receiving.

-It cannot be taught or studied-

We only learn by doing it ourselves.

-Contemplation is not about ‘me’, or ‘them’,

or even ‘Us’-

It is about G-d.

[1] Pirkei Avos 6:4

[2] Zohar 2:133a

[3] Tale of the Exchanged Children in ‘R' Nachman’s Stories’ , Aryeh Kaplan, page 34, (Breslov Research Institute, Jerusalem/New York,1983)

[4] I note that, R' Aryeh Kaplan also points out that, in the Zohar passage, these items are symbols of the Shechinah.

[5] “A man will some day have to give an account to G-d for all the good things which his eyes beheld and of which he refused to partake.” (Yerushalmi-Kiddushin 4:12)