Vayetze (Hasidism)

On “Greatness” and “Smallness”

One of the important early Hasidic books is Degel Mahaneh Efraim, by R. Moshe Hayyim Ephraim of Sudylkow. Its author, a grandson of the Baal Shem Tov who had a modest following in the small Ukrainian town of Sudylkov, is described as living “in humility and poverty.” He was among those who strongly criticized the arrogance of those scholars who boasted of their learning, emphasizing service of God with sincerity and for its owns sake (EJ XII: 430). As a direct descendant of the Besht, this book is considered particularly valuable as a source for teachings.

It is interesting and rather ironical that, while later Hasidic dynasties were largely based upon heredity, only a handful of descendants of the Baal Shem Tov functioned as rebbes: the rabbi of Sudylkow; his brother, R Barukh of Medzibech; and, best known, R. Nahman of Breslav, the Besht’s great-grandson through the sister of the above two. According to legend, his own son, Zvi, felt himself unworthy of serving as leader after his father’s death, and relinquished the mantle of leadership in favor of the Maggid. The original circle was composed of the Besht’s and the Maggid’s personal disciples, each one of whom became who he was through a kind of spiritual apprenticeship; the idea of hereditary leadership may be seen as a degeneration of the original idea of a band of spiritual seekers. Indeed, in virtually any group the automatic inheritance of title represents a kind of corruption, in which an elite family rests upon its laurels rather than spiritual continuity being determined by the personal qualities of the individual. Hasidim in its later days justified the passing down of leadership by a doctrine of “yihus,” of certain mystical qualities of soul supposedly being passed on by blood, but this seems rather like a rationalization, which certainly led to the dominance of many mediocre leaders as well as, now and then, genuinely outstanding personalities.

This week’s portion opens with the dramatic scene of Jacob’s vision of the ladder leading to heaven at Bethel. The following is the opening section of the Torah explanation offered the “Degel”:

“And Jacob went out of Beer-sheva and went to Haran. And he came to a certain place… and he took one of the stones of the place… And behold, there was a ladder standing upon the ground, and its head reached the heavens. And behold, angels of God were going up and down upon it” [Gen 28:10-12].

This contains the secret of greatness and smallness, as is known. In the name of my grandfather, of blessed memory, that “the creatures run back and forth” [Ezek 1:14]: that it is impossible to stand upon one level constantly, but only to go up and down. And the descent is needed for the ascent. For when one takes to heart and knows and feels that he is in a state of smallness, then he prays to God in the manner of, “And you shall seek from there the Lord your God, and you shall find” [Deut 4:29]—“there” alluding to the place where he is.

A basic concept used in Hasidism is “greatness” and “smallness” of mind or consciousness (gadlut demohin / katnut demohin): that is, the fleeting, ever-changing states of human religious consciousness. This is a basic problem in all spiritual life. A person (i.e., the one addressed here, engaged in a serious religious quest) seeks, and hopefully eventually achieves, a sense of apprehension, of intuition, of insight of the nearness of God, of His presence: a sense, say, while praying, that he is not merely uttering words, but that his whole being is engaged in the way it should be. But a moment later, an hour later, the next time he prays, or the next day, it is gone. The person is troubled by this, and asks: What happened to me, that I had it, but then I lost it? This homily addresses that dilemma, explaining that by its very nature, the religious life has its ups and downs. This is so—I would add—because it is concerned, not merely with cognitive, informational knowledge, but with the experiential, intuitive realm. The state of mind demanded in order to feel the Divine Presence within this busy, noisy, corporeal world, filled with external stimuli and distractions, is very subtle and refined, and it is difficult to maintain for more than a brief time. This is why, even in pre-modern times, those who sought knowledge of God withdrew to a state of seclusion (see, e.g., Rambam, Yesodei Hatorah 7.1; cf. Tefillah 4.16).

Interestingly, in his essay “Uvikashtam misham,” Rabbi Soloveitchik z”l invokes those passages in Song of Songs in which the lovers seek but constantly miss one another as representing a central quality of the religious life. The verse quoted here from Ezekiel, in which the celestial beings that form the Divine chariot are constantly moving back and forth, is seen in Hasidism and Kabbalah as emblematic of this idea.

To put matters in more down to earth terms: the message here is that people must not be too hard on themselves, but accept the rhythmic nature of religious life. One must learn to accept that, for no obvious reason, one will experience peak moments of deep spiritual insight, or of kavvanah in prayer, which then recede and fade. “Trying harder,” exerting efforts of will, won’t bring them back—whether because in some sense it depends on Divine grace, or whether, even in natural terms, the type of consciousness needed for this is not one that can simply be willed into existence. Religious adepts, mystics, ba’alei teshuvah, may often be stern people, with high expectations, who tend to be harsher on themselves than they are on other people. Rivka Schatz has observed that the real subject of the Hasidic doctrine of joy, of simhah, relates to this issue—that is, that one must not fall into despair and depression at ones own shortcomings (see Chapter 4 of her Hasidism as Mysticism). The consistent answer of Hasidic teachings is: to accept that this is how it is and, in contemporary language, to learn to flow with it.

As my grandfather, z”l, said that this is alluded to in the verse: “And Jacob left Beer-sheva” [ibid.]. That is, when the righteous man falls from his level, and departs from the flow and the Shekhinah, that is called “Bat-sheva,” as is known. And this is, “and he went to Haran”—that is, that he falls down into smallness. And when he feels this, “and he touched upon the place” [ibid., v. 11]—that is, that he prays concerning this to the Place [one of the names of God], blessed be He. “And he took from the rocks of the place”—that is, from the place where he is. “And you shall seek from there the Lord your God” [op. cit.].

The interpretation of “leaving Beer-sheva,” and its equation with “Bat-sheva,” is interesting. I’ve never seen the two equated in this way, but presumably the idea is that both relate to the number seven, which is a mystical number, alluding to the seven principle sefirot or midot, the “building blocks” of the Kabbalistic universe.

In the name of my grandfather, z”l: Then “And he dreamt, and behold, there was a ladder placed upon the ground, and its head reached into heaven.” That is, the descent, which is [called] “placed upon the ground,” is itself the ladder by which one may thereafter ascend to a higher level. As is known, that the descent is needed for the ascent. … “And behold, the angels of God”—that is, he may see that all the righteous behave thus, that they go up and down. That is, that they have descents which are for the purpose of ascent….

Yeridah tzorekh aliyah, “descent for the sake of ascent,” is likewise a central idea in Hasidism. First of all, there is a kind of comfort in knowing that descent is part of the ascent; that there is a dynamic picture, the entire cycle being a natural one. Second, the longing for God, the poignant feeling of His absence, the alienation felt when one is “down below,” is itself a central stimulus for spiritual growth, for once again making the effort to really pray and to serve Him as one should. Finally, being in the world may itself somehow give one the qualities, insights, etc., needed to help the process of “ascent.” The climax of this process is described in the conclusion:

“And behold the Lord was standing upon it” [ibid, v. 13]. That is, there was revealed to him the attribute aspect of greatness, which is HYWH, blessed be He. And he promised him, “you shall spread out…” [v. 14]. That is, that he shall reach a very high level, in the expansion of his apprehension. And this is what is said: ”Indeed, the Lord was in this place, and I did not know” [v. 16].