Chanuka: For the Miracles or For the Routine
CHASSIDUT
by Rav Itamar Eldar
Yeshivat Har Etzion
Chanuka:
For
the miracles or for the routine
Rav
Itamar Eldar
Progressive
adding or progressive detracting
One of the most well known disputes regarding the lighting of Chanuka
candles relates to the number of candles that must be lit each night of the
holiday. The Gemara states as follows:
Our
Rabbis taught: The precept of Hanukkah [demands] one light for a man and his
household; the zealous [kindle] a light for each member [of the
household]; and the extremely zealous, — Bet Shammai maintain: On the first day
eight lights are lit and thereafter they are gradually reduced; but Bet
Hillel say: On the first day one is lit and thereafter they are progressively
increased. Ulla said: In the West [Eretz
Bet Shammai and Bet Hillel disagree about the manner in which the
extremely zealous light Chanuka candles. According to Bet Shammai, on the first
night they light eight candles, and then on each subsequent night they light one
candle less. According to Bet Hillel, they light one candle on the first night,
and then add one additional candle on each subsequent night.
The Gemara suggests two ways to understand this controversy. According to
the first explanation, Bet Shammai maintain that we light candles corresponding
in number to the days that are still to come. Thus on each night we light a
number of candles equal to the number of days left until the conclusion of the
holiday. In contrast, Bet Hillel contend that we light candles corresponding in
number to the days that have already gone, that is to say, equal to the number
of days that have passed from the beginning of the holiday until
now.
In essence, we are dealing with two different counts, one counting down
and one counting forward. There is an essential difference between counting down
and counting forward. When we count down, we demonstrate that we are striving
towards a particular objective, counting the time remaining until we reach it.
We stand in anticipation of this objective. The present moment is insignificant;
it is defined solely in relation to the time remaining until we reach the
objective, but in itself is void of meaning. When, in contrast, we count
forward, it is the objective that is insignificant. When we start with the
number one and count forward, we don't know where the count is supposed to stop.
Perhaps at five, perhaps at ten, perhaps at a hundred, for the objective is
undefined. All that we can know with regard to such a count is how much time has
passed from the beginning of the count until the present moment. From this
perspective, the present moment itself has meaning; it is counted in and of
itself, and not as a point in time along the road to some
objective.
According to Bet Hillel, importance is attached to each and every day in
and of itself. Each passing day becomes part of the count and is mentioned on
each subsequent day: Two days have passed, three days have passed, eight days
have passed. According to Bet Shammai, each day marks a point of time along the
road to a certain objective. When the day has passed, and we reach the next
point in time, the first point vanishes from the world. The eighth candle is lit
only on the first night; after that day has passed, it is never lit
again.
In great measure, this dispute corresponds to another dispute between
Hillel and Shammai:
It
was taught: They used to say about Shammai the elder that all his life he ate in
honor of Shabbat. So, if he found a comely animal he would say: "Let this
be for Shabbat." If he later found a more comely one, he would put aside the
second for Shabbat and eat the first. But Hillel the elder had a different
approach, for all his deeds were for the sake of heaven, as it is said: "Blessed
be the Lord day by day" (Tehilim 68:20). It was likewise taught: Bet
Shammai say: From the first day of the week, prepare for Shabbat, but Bet Hillel
say: "Blessed be the Lord day by day." (Betza 16a)
The Gemara describes the greatness of Shammai who would live all week in
anticipation of Shabbat. Each comely animal that he found, he would set aside
for Shabbat. In contrast, stands Hillel, all of whose actions were for the sake
of Heaven. In other words, when he found a comely animal, he would eat it that
very day.
One way to understand this dispute relates to the issue of trust in God.
This is the way that the dispute was understood by the author of the piyyut
"Chai Ha-Shem":
My
soul thirsts for God/ may He fill my granary to satiety/ I lift my eyes to the
hills/ like Hillel and not like Shammai. (Seder Kiddush for Shabbat
day)
The author of this piyyut praises Hillel's trust in God as opposed
to that of Shammai. Hillel allowed himself to eat the comely animal because he
put his trust in God, believing that as Shabbat drew near God would send him an
even more comely animal.
It seems, however, that there is another way to understand this dispute,
one that finds expression in what the Gemara says about Hillel, "all of his
actions were for the sake of Heaven," and "blessed be the Lord day by
day."
Shammai, in his usual manner, counts down; all of his days are directed
towards Shabbat which is the climax, from which it follows that the weekdays are
all subordinate to it and of no importance whatsoever.
Hillel, on the other hand, wishes to reach a spiritual climax every day.
All of his days and all of his actions are part of his standing before God. He
eats the comely animal on the day he finds it in order to honor that day which
is meaningful in and of itself. That very day offers an opportunity to perform a
deed for the sake of Heaven, and to merit the blessing of God that is bestowed
on each and every day. Shammai wakes up in the morning and counts how many days
remain until Shabbat. Hillel, in contrast, wakes up and blesses the new day,
saying, "Welcome, day such-and-such."
Heaven
and earth – which was created first
These
ideas seem to be connected to a more profound issue relating to God's presence
in this world, and they may be sharpened by way of yet another dispute between
Bet Hillel and Bet Shammai:
Our
sages taught: Bet Shammai say: Heaven was created first and the earth was
created afterward, as it is stated: "In the beginning God created heaven and
earth" (Bereishit 1:1). But Bet Hillel say: The earth was created first
and heaven afterward, as it is stated: "In the day that the Lord God made earth
and heaven" (Bereishit 2:4). Bet Hillel said to Bet Shammai: According to
you, a man should build the upper story of the house first and the lower story
afterward, as it is stated: "It is He that builds His upper chambers in the
heaven, and has founded His [lower] vault upon the earth" (Amos 9:6). Bet
Shammai replied to Bet Hillel: According to you, a man should first make a
footstool and then make the throne, as it is stated: "The heaven is My throne
and the earth is My footstool" (Yeshaya 66:1). But the Sages say: Both
were created at one and the same time, as it is stated: "Yea, My hand has laid
the foundation of the earth, and My right hand has spread out the heavens; when
I called to them, they stood up together" (Yeshaya 48:13). (Chagiga
12a)
Bet Shammai base themselves on the opening verse of the book of
Bereishit: "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth,"
learning from here that the heaven was created first.
Bet Hillel, in contrast, base themselves on the first verse in the second
chapter of the book of Bereishit: "In the day that the Lord God made the
earth and the heaven," learning from here that the earth was created
first.
The reasoning put forward by each side demonstrates the profundity of
this controversy.
Bet Shammai perceive the relationship between heaven and earth as that
between a throne and a footstool. Heaven, argues Bet Shammai, is God's throne,
whereas the earth is His footstool. It is the way of man to first build the
throne and only afterwards the footstool. Bet Shammai's image radiates not only
upon the order, but also upon the focus. God's principal dwelling place,
according to this image, is in heaven; only its fringes stand upon the
earth.
In
contrast, Bet Hillel's image is that of a house with an upper story. The earth
is the house and heaven is the upper story, and it is the way of man first to
construct the house and only afterwards the upper story. This too has
ramifications not only regarding the order but regarding the focus as well. A
person's principal place of dwelling is in the main part of his house; only
occasionally does he go up to the attic. So too according to this image, God's
principal dwelling place is on earth; only on occasion does He go up to
heaven.[1]
It
seems that the different perspectives regarding God's presence in the world give
rise to different attitudes towards the world in which we
live.
According
to Bet Shammai, man encounters God in that which is holy; everything else is
subordinate to it. Shabbat is the moment during which we merit to ascend to
heaven and appear before God, and thus the other days are subordinate to it,
void of meaning and importance. And we might add, the other days are perhaps
even void of an encounter with God, for God's place of dwelling is in heaven,
and not on earth.
According
to Bet Hillel, man encounters God everywhere, and we might even say,
specifically in our world and not in the heavenly holiness, for God is found on
earth. Blessed is the Lord day by day. And all of man's actions are for the sake
of heaven, for God is present in everything and at all times. There is no such
thing as "subordinate time," for each and every moment affords an opportunity
for an encounter with Him.[2]
Gratitude for the miracle or for what happened
in its wake
In
light of all that has been said above, let us return to Chanuka and try to
understand the spiritual meaning of the two counts, that of Bet Hillel and that
of Bet Shammai.
The miracle of the cruse of oil marks the eight-day period of waiting
until the regular supply of ritually pure oil could be renewed. Getting through
those days was made possible by the miracle of the cruse of oil, through which a
tiny amount of oil lasted for eight days.
This waiting period, assert Bet Shammai, is accompanied by the constant
expectation of the arrival of the oil and the renewal of the routine lighting of
the candelabrum in the
According to this, Bet Hillel's count becomes less understandable. Why
should we count and look backwards to the days that have passed? Surely our
attention is turned to the objective – return to routine and renewal of the
supply of oil!
Bet Hillel, however, choose to focus on a different point. The days that
have passed relate to the miracle itself. While Bet Shammai light candles each
day according to the days that remain, saying: In four more days the routine of
lighting will be restored, in three more days, in two more days, and so on, Bet
Hillel light candles each day according to the days that have passed since the
miracle started, saying: For four days already God in His mercy has performed a
miracle for us, for five days already, for six days already, and so
on.
Bet Hillel choose to focus on the great lovingkindness embodied in the
miracle of the cruse of oil, and the wonderful gesture that God bestowed upon us
through this miracle. Bet Hillel - following their master, Hillel – choose to
focus on the moment itself and on the lovingkindness that radiates from it, and
not necessarily on the objective towards which we are headed. From this
perspective Bet Hillel may actually prefer that Bet Shammai's objective should
never be reached, because along with the return to routine the miracle will also
come to an end, and this is something that Bet Hillel is unwilling to give up
on.
For Bet Shammai, the transition from the eighth day, on which a single
candle is lit, to the ninth day, on which no candles are lit, is desirable, and
to a certain degree even gladdening, because it indicates that the objective has
been reached. For Bet Hillel, the transition from the eighth day, on which eight
candles are lit, to the ninth day, on which no candles are lit, is abrupt and
painful. It marks the end of the days of miracles and lovingkindness, and from
this perspective, Bet Hillel prefer that they should never
end.
This may be likened to an elderly lady who wishes to cross the street,
when suddenly the local mayor appears, takes her by the hand, and crosses her
over. A woman from the
It seems that this distinction is connected to the definition of the
experience of offering gratitude, as formulated by the Sefat
Emet:
"They
established them and made them as festival days with praise and thanksgiving."
Praise involves light and joy. Thanksgiving involves fear and submission. For
this is the quality of a person who becomes elevated and through apprehension
comes to great submission. This is a sign of true and enduring love. And
similarly it is written: "The fear of the Lord is pure, enduring forever" – for
that which brings to fear is enduring. This is also the quality of the Jewish
people - when the Holy One, blessed be He, shines upon them and redeems them,
they submit themselves greatly. This is what is written: "Praise the Lord; give
praise, you servants of the Lord" – through praise, they submit themselves and
accept more fully their subservience. Therefore, the next year, when they saw
that through the redemption through which they became elevated, they also
submitted themselves, and they saw that it was an enduring matter, they
established them as festival days with praise and thanksgiving. This is the
matter of progressively adding and progressively detracting – both are true, for
each day of Chanuka one must rise up and become excited in the service and love
of God, blessed be He, and also greatly submit oneself each and every day.
Therefore, Bet Shammai say that he detracts, they being the aspect of
gevura and fear, and Bet Hillel that of love and chesed, as is
known. The truth is that praise involves an illumination of the nefesh
and the neshama. Just as the soul overcomes, so the body submits. And
thanksgiving is with the body. The term "modim" implies that they
disagree, for the body is in dispute with the nefesh, and on these days
it submits itself to the neshama. (Sefat Emet, Chanuka
5650).
The Sefat Emet discusses two psychological states, the state of
praise, which is light and joy, and the state of thanksgiving, which is fear and
submission.
Praise gives expression to expansion and going beyond our limits. We are
joyous and happy about the lovingkindness that we have merited, and we delight
in God's love for His people that radiates from this
lovingkindness.
Thanksgiving
involves recognition and acceptance. "'Modim' implies that they
disagree," says the Sefat Emet at the end of this teaching. Thanksgiving
resolves prior disputes and uncertainties. There is submission on the part of
the inner aspects of man that oppose God.
Joy
and love are functions of expansion and excitement. In contrast, submission and
fear are functions of gevura and contraction. The more this state
grows, the more the person effaces and submits himself.
The
Sefat Emet connects these two states to the dispute between Bet Hillel
and Bet Shammai regarding the order of lighting Chanuka candles. Progressive
detraction, states the Sefat Emet, marks a position of growing submission
and self-effacement, the climax of which, as we have seen, occurs on the ninth
day, when no candles are lit, marking total submission and self-effacement –
nothingness before God. Progressive adding, on the other hand, marks a position
of ever-growing love and joy. Each additional day brings more and more light,
the climax occurring on the eighth day, with the lighting of eight
candles.
The
Sefat Emet proposes that in essence there is no dispute; there is room
for both psychological states. The manner in which these two states may be
integrated is through the distinction between soul and body. The soul, according
to the Sefat Emet, does not need submission, but rather love and added
light. The body, on the other hand, requires submission and self-effacement. The
difference follows from the basic state of the two. The body in its basic state
opposes the soul and draws man down to material reality. The soul, on the other
hand, is in a basic state of yearning that is aimed upward to its root. It is
therefore in need of added light, whereas the body needs submission and
effacement.
The
Sefat Emet asserts that the more light that is added to the soul, the
more the body is nullified. The more the praise, the more the submission. Thus,
the two states do not contradict each other, but rather they complement each
other and lead the one to the other.
It
should be noted that this insight does not dull the sharpness of the transition,
according to Bet Hillel, from the eighth candle to the "ninth candle." From the
perspective of submission and fear, we understand how on the ninth day a person
returns to his routine, out of total submission and out of profound
understanding that there is none other than Him. But the pain of the transition
from the great love and joy of the eight candles to the ninth day does not
abate, according to the Sefat Emet. The transition from the days that
mark the growing nearness to God, when God reveals Himself more and more through
His manifest miracles, to the day on which the lighting of the candles is
already a natural act, with no Divine intervention, so that the count comes to
an end – remains sharp and drastic.
His
ways are eternal
The
words of R. Nachman of Breslov may be able to alleviate this
pain:
The
days of Chanuka are days of thanksgiving, as it is written: "And they
established these eight days of Chanuka in order to give thanks and praise,
etc." Days of thanksgiving are the aspect of the pleasure of the world-to-come.
For this is the primary pleasure of the world-to-come, to give thanks and praise
to His great name, blessed be He, and recognize Him, blessed be He, for in this
way we draw near and close to Him. For the more we know and recognize Him,
blessed be He, the closer we draw to Him. For everything else will be nullified
in the future, having the aspect of: "All the sacrifices will be abolished,
except for the thanksgiving offering (Midrash Rabba, Tzav, parasha
9, Emor, parasha 27, see there). For nothing will remain in
the future other than the aspect of thanksgiving, to thank and praise and know
Him, blessed be He, as it is written (Yeshaya 11:9): "For the earth shall
be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea," which is the
entirety of the pleasure of the world-to-come.
The
aspect of thanksgiving, which is the pleasure of the world-to-come, is the
aspect of the halakhot. For the halakhot that one merits to learn,
and especially one who merits to have new insights into them, is the aspect of
the pleasure of the world-to-come, the aspect of (Nidda 73): "Whoever
studies halakhot every day is assured of life in the world-to-come." For
when a new halakha is proposed, there is new understanding and knowledge, and
knowledge is the primary pleasure of the world-to-cone, as stated above… For
this reason, the thanksgiving offering is called a halakha, for a thanksgiving
offering is brought when one emerges from distress. For when one suffers some
distress, God forbid, the primary distress is in the heart, for the heart knows
and feels the trouble most, as it is written (Mishlei 14:10): "The heart
knows its own bitterness," for "the heart understands" (Berakhot 61), and
so it feels the distress most greatly. In a time of trouble, all the blood
gathers and rises to the heart, just as when there is trouble in a certain
place, God forbid, everyone gathers to the local Sage to receive from him
advice. Similarly all the blood gathers and rises to the heart to seek counsel
and a scheme against the trouble. It floods the heart, and then the heart is in
great trouble and distress, for not only does the heart worry on its own,
because it experiences the trouble more than all [the other organs], but the
blood also floods it and causes it great distress. Therefore, when, God forbid,
a person is faced with trouble, the heart throbs strongly, for it wishes to move
by itself and cast [the blood] away from itself. Therefore it throbs strongly at
a time of trouble, God forbid, and then later when the person emerges from the
distress, his blood circulation returns to its natural course in the pathways of
the body. For this reason, the thanksgiving offering, which is brought upon
emerging from some distress, is called "halakha," after the tahalukhot
damim, the orderly "procession of blood" after one has emerged from
distress, as stated above. (Likutein Moharan Tinyana,
2:1-2)
R. Nachman is trying here to connect together a number of concepts. He
first asserts that thanksgiving is the aspect of the pleasure of the
world-to-come. This concept of the pleasure of the world-to-come marks the
unmediated intimacy between us and our Creator, for it contains nothing but
delight in the splendor of the Shekhina and pleasure in the very
intimacy.
R.
Nachman contends that thanksgiving has the aspect of recognizing our Creator and
drawing close to Him in an unmediated manner. It therefore has the aspect of the
pleasure of the world-to-come. This comes to expression in what Chazal
say that the thanksgiving offering will not be abolished in the
future.
R.
Nachman proceeds by adding a third concept – Halakha.
R.
Nachman first speaks of "Halakha" in its plain sense: "Whoever studies
halakhot every day is assured of life in the world-to-come." Knowing
Halakha, asserts R. Nachman, has the aspect of drawing near to and recognizing
the Creator, which is itself pleasure which is the aspect of the
world-to-come.
Thanksgiving
ties in with Halakha, according to what has been said here, in that both are
connected to the aspect of the world-to-come. R. Nachman, however, wishes to
connect them directly as well, and for this purpose, he turns the concrete
concept of Halakha into a more comprehensive psychological state. In his
usual manner, R. Nachman uses a biological analogy in order to sharpen his
point.
R.
Nachman tries to describe the phenomenon of rapid heartbeat during times of
stress. He paints a picture of blood besieging the heart, and the heart trying
to remove the blood and cast it away. This finds expression in a stronger and
more rapid pulse. When the stress is removed and relief arrives, the blood
returns to its usual place. R. Nachman refers to this phenomenon as
"tahalukhot hadamim" – "procession of blood -
Halakha.
Even
if this image is imprecise from a biological perspective, it offers a profound
explanation of what happens inside a person during times of distress and in
their wake. "The procession of blood" – Halakha, asserts R. Nachman, marks the
return to routine. This may be likened to a terrorist act which brings together
many rescue forces – police, army, ambulance crews, firefighters, and the like.
When the incident is over, they all return to their routine stations. This is
the psychological state of Halakha, and thus also of the thanksgiving that is
offered at that time. R. Nachman's major insight here is precisely the routine,
which marks the great moment, the great intimacy.
Let
us return to Halakha in the concrete sense. Here too R. Nachman's great
insight is that it is precisely Halakha, with its aspect of routine – "daily
offerings in their order and additional offerings according to their law" – that
marks the great intimacy. The study of Halakha is generally understood as dry,
routine study, whereas the study of faith and creed, and in a certain sense even
the study of Gemara, is viewed as invigorating. Here R. Nachman turns the tables
upside down. It is precisely the study of Halakha through which we attain the
aspect of the world-to-come, which is a delight and pure, unmediated
pleasure.
How
does the routine that follows in the wake of distress and in the wake of the
miraculous rescue from it turn into an even more elevated moment than the
miracle itself, and how does Halakha turn into eternal
pleasure?
The
root of the matter, according to R. Nachman, lies in the blurring, to the point
of nullification, of the gap between miracle and nature, between the distress
and consequent rescue, on the one hand, and routine, on the
other.
In
truth, we cannot understand what is nature and [what is] providence, for in fact
nature is also God's providence. It is impossible for man to understand these
two things as one, that is, that nature is truly His providence. (Likutei
Moharan Tinyana 17)
R. Nachman tries here to nullify the distinction between nature and
miracle. "His providence," according to R. Nachman, is a code word for the
Divine will that acts not in subordination to the natural order.[3] According to
this, the entire difference between miracle and nature lies in the garments, for
nature is in fact a miracle dressed up as natural laws.[4]
We can now say that the role of miracles is to expose the miraculous
reality that lies behind the reality of nature. R. Nachman writes as
follows:
The
revelation of the will is by way of the festival days, for each of these days
proclaims, cries out, and reveals the will, that everything occurs solely by way
of His will, with the aspect of "holy assemblies" [mikra kodesh,
literally, "holy proclamation]. For the holy festival day calls out and
proclaims His will, as stated above. For on each festival day, God, blessed be
He, performed for us marvelous signs that were the opposite of nature, through
which His will was revealed, everything following from His will, there being
nothing necessitated by nature at all. (Likutei Moharan Tinyana 4,
6)
The time of miracles is not "real time," but rather a preparation for the
natural order that will follow, and its role is to expose the miraculous Divine
governance that is found in nature itself.
According to R. Nachman, the return to routine in the aftermath of days
of miracles, as opposed to what we saw earlier, is not really a return to
routine. From now on a new perspective on reality accompanies it, through which
God's hand is evident in each and every action. The procession of blood that
marks the return to routine bears within it the new perspective that comes in
the wake of the miracle, whose impression is evident. From now on
Halakha/routine wears the dress of delight. This is thanksgiving according to R.
Nachman: The recognition of God's active presence in everything that
happens.
This psychological state brings routine to eternity and Halakha to the
world-to-come, for it contains constant intimacy that is not dependent on any
event. When a person merits to attain to this level, he rises in the morning,
sees the sun shining and feels like a maidservant at the parting of the sea and
like one who stood at the foot of Mount Sinai when God descended upon it. For
such a person, routine turns into a holiday, and Halakha turns into something
closely similar to the world-to-come.[5]
This understanding gives new meaning to the Chanuka
candles.
R. Nachman of Breslov contemplates the miracle of the cruse of oil, and
sees in it a "holy assembly" which teaches about the routine days that will
follow.
The miracle of the cruse of oil, the miraculous lighting of the candles
ex nihilo, teach us that even on ordinary days, he who lights the oil is not the
High Priest, but God:
On
one Shabbat eve at twilight, [Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa] saw his daughter sad. He
said to her: "My daughter, why are you sad?" She replied: "I exchanged my
vinegar can for my oil can, and I kindled the Shabbat light with
vinegar." He said to her: "Why should this trouble you? He who commanded the oil
to burn will also command the vinegar to burn." (Ta'anit
25a)
He who contemplates the natural world as "nature" sees the lighting of
oil as nature and the lighting of vinegar as a miracle. But he who contemplates
the natural world as a miracle dressed in natural garb, sees no difference
between the lighting of oil and the lighting of vinegar. For this reason, he
also fails to see a difference between the eight days during which the candles
burned as a result of the miracle, and the ninth day on which they burned
because the supply of oil had been restored.
R. Nachman "progressively adds" in accordance with Bet Hillel, and every
day the profound recognition regarding God's hand in the reality in which we
live grows stronger. In contrast to the position of the Sefat Emet,
however, the transition on the ninth day is not from eight candles to zero
candles. R. Nachman's chanukiya has much more than eight candles, but
after eight days of Chanuka, from the ninth day on, R. Nachman sees with his
spiritual sight the hand of God extended towards the wick and lighting the world
with His infinite splendor.
The mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles and the miracle of the
cruse of oil teach us to deeply contemplate the dark and wintry routine in the
middle of which falls out the holiday of lights, and to acquire the ability to
reflect upon the great light that stands behind this darkness, precisely on the
days of dark routine. From the moment that the light of the days of Halakha that
follow Chanuka is lit, we merit the aspect of the delight of the
world-to-come.
FOOTNOTES:
[1]
Let us add that it is not by chance that these ideas are connected to the first
chapter of the book of Bereishit written in the name of Elohim
which represents the trait of justice, as opposed to the second chapter of
the book of Bereishit written in the name of the Tetragrammaton which
represents the trait of mercy.
In
the first chapter of Bereishit, God is described as Elohim, as the
all-powerful, and as the Creator. He does not engage in dialogue with man; He
neither addresses him, nor does He reveal Himself to him, nor does He command
him. Nature is the focus of reality, and even the blessing of "Be fruitful and
multiply," is part of the natural law that God implants in the world. From this
perspective, God's resting place is in Heaven.
In
the second chapter, God is described by the Tetragrammaton. There we meet a God
who reveals Himself to man, who plants a garden in Eden, places man inside of
it, and even walks about it Himself. Man is commanded and there is dialogue.
Here God is present in the world; He is not described as merely having created
the world and as directing it according to the laws of nature. According to this
description, God's main place of dwelling is on earth.
Bet
Shammai chose to look at the world through the spectacles of chapter 1, where
Heaven was created first, and it is God's primary place of
dwelling.
Bet
Hillel, in contrast, chose to look at the world through the spectacles of the
second chapter of Bereishit, where the world was created first and it is
the main dwelling place of God. In their opinion, this is the appropriate
perspective on the world, and on God's presence within it.
[2]
It is related about the Ba'al Shem Tov that he was asked what is the most
important thing in life, and he answered: "What I am doing at this very
instant!"
[3]
It should be noted that this issue is highly complicated, and it was the Rambam
who devoted to it many chapters of his thought. The Rambam argued with the
Islamic sects who tried to blur the difference between miracle and nature, and
turn all of reality into a miracle. R. Yehuda ha-Levi also confronts this
conception, arguing that it attaches no value to human actions performed in
accordance with natural standards, for work does not bring sustenance, nor does
sowing bring to harvesting, and the like. R. Nachman's position on this matter
is complex, and it would appear that he is trying to hold the rope at both
ends.
[4]
"The essence of fear results from a revelation of the will, having the aspect of
"He will do the will of those who fear Him" (Tehilim 145). For by way of
the revelation of His will, fear comes into being. That is, by way of the
revelation that all proceeds from His will, blessed be He, for He created
everything with His will, nothing at all being necessitated, and He revives and
maintains everything by His will, blessed be He, there being no natural order
whatsoever. Through this fear comes into being, for there is reward and
punishment, and there is reason to fear Him, blessed be He. As our Rabbis, of
blessed memory said (Berakhot 4): '"And Ya'akov feared greatly." He said:
Perhaps sin will be a cause.' But when God's will is not revealed, and people
think that there is necessity in nature, God forbid, and it is as if everything
is conducted by the natural order, God forbid, there is no room for any fear
whatsoever. For there is no reward and punishment at all, God forbid, for
everything is conducted solely on the basis of the necessity of nature, God
forbid. We see then that the essence of fear results from a revelation of God's
will" (Likutei Moharan Tinyana, 4, 5)
[5]
Anyone who wishes to see how concrete Halakha turns into delight, according to
R. Nachman of Breslov, should study the marvelous work, "Likutei
Halakhot," authored by his disciple, R. Natan, on the basis of his
teachings, on the laws of the Shulchan Arukh.
(Translated
by David Strauss)