Context Makes All the Difference

Rabbi Joel Fleekop

Friday, June 22, 2007

When the Baal Shem Tov saw misfortune threatening the Jews, it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a fire, say a special prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and the misfortune averted.

Later, when his disciple, the Maggid of Mezritch, had occasion to intercede with heaven for the same reason, he would go to the same place in the forest and say "Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the fire, but I still can say the prayer." and again, the miracle would be accomplished.

Still later, Rabbi Moishe Leib of Sasov, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say," I do not know how to light the fire, I do not know the prayer, but I know the place and this must be sufficient." It was sufficient and the miracle was accomplished.

Then it fell to Rabbi Israel of Rhizin to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God. "I am unable to light the fire and I do not know the prayer, and I can not even find the place in the forest. All I can do is tell the story, and this must be sufficient. And it was sufficient.

This story, which comes from the rich collection of Hassidic tales, highlights for us the interplay of magic, ritual and healing in Hassidic life. It also teaches us about the role of tradition and how long after the details of something are forgotten, the memory that remains can still be very powerful.

In this week’s Torah portion we find another story about magic, ritual, and healing. Following the Israelites second bout of complaining, we read in Parshat Hukkat that God responds by releasing a plague of serpents on the Israelites. The serpents are poisonous and many who are bitten fall dead. Recognizing the error of their ways, the people came to Moses asking for him to pray on their behalf.

Moses prayed and God told him how to end the plague. Following God’s instructions, Moses constructed a serpent out of brass and placed it on a pole. Seeing the brass serpent served as an antidote for the real snakes’ venom, ending the plague and allowing the Israelites to continue on their journey through the desert.

Unlike the fire and prayer offered by the Bal Shem Tov, the bronze serpent was not forgotten by subsequent generations. But perhaps worse, it was co-opted and corrupted.

After settling in the Promised Land, some Israelites began offering sacrifices to the supposedly miraculous metal snake. The problem of treating the snake as an idol became so great that it later had to be destroyed. Describing the actions of King Hezekiah, in the Book of II Kings we read, “He also broke into pieces the bronze serpent which Moses had made, for until that time the Israelites had been offering sacrifices to it; it was called Nehushtan (II Kings 18:4).

The rituals performed in the woods by the Bal Shem Tov and by Moses in the wilderness have so much in common. But the memory of one became a blessing while the other a curse. Why is it that? What was the critical difference between these two rituals?

I think the answer is context. The Rabbi’s who lived in religious communities and devoted their lives to Torah study saw that the purpose of the Hassidic ritual, long after the details were forgotten, was to ask God for help. And so this is what they focused on. Honoring the memory of the sages who preceded them, each generation turned to God, with what ever part of the ritual they knew, and asked for assistance.

According to the Mishnah, the purpose of the serpent statue was also to turn people towards God. But for Israelites of the 7th century b.c.e, who lived surrounded by superstition and idolatry, the part about healing coming from God was forgotten. What mattered was the object and the ritual. And so they, perhaps ignorant of the teachings of God and the ideals of their community, fetishized the bronze snake.

Today both the Hassidic ritual and that of the bronze serpent seem very foreign. But Judaism, even rational Reform Judaism, still has magic rituals. We will see an example of one tomorrow, with the bnot mitzvah of Hanna and Emily. The girls have studied hard and I know they will do an excellent job of leading the service. But what they, and all other Bnai Mitzvah remember about the experience two months or two years, or ten years from now will depend on context; the context provided by their families leading up to the special day and the context they create for themselves going forward.

Another magic experience for many Jews is a trip to Israel. Since its creation in the late 1990s, the patrons of Taglit-Birthright have made it possible for more than 120,000 young Jewish adults to spend time in Israel, with another 25,000 expected to go on the program this summer.

Participants in Birthright spend two weeks touring the country, learning about the history of the land as well as meeting with people who help shape its future. Almost everyone who participates describes the trip as incredible. But studies show that the long term efficacy of Birthright in building a connection to Israel and a stronger Jewish identity depends on how participants were prepared for the trip as well as what type of follow-up took place after returning to America. Like other magic moments, the meaning of a trip to Israel depends on context.

And the same is true for other rituals of life, the rituals we don’t categorize as “Jewish.” There is nothing more magical for a teenager than the ability to drive. But it is context that will determine whether getting one’s driver’s license means having only new freedoms or also new responsibilities. Context also shapes the way we remember high school and college graduations, weddings, and retirement parties. Context is even what determines whether a summer trip to the ballpark, with its prescribed music and special foods, qualifies as a family ritual or just a form of entertainment.

The great Hassidic Rabbis and the Ancient Israelites both told stories about special rituals. And we are sure to do the same with the rituals that fill our lives. May we carefully shape the context in which the magic moments of life take place so that when we reflect back, our memories will be a source of blessing.

Shabbat Shalom