Quote from Davening
Davening: A Guide to Meaningful Jewish Prayer
by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi with Joel Segel
Jewish Lights Publishing, Woodstock, Vermont, 2012. 218 pp.
A story is told about a certain Rabbi Shimon, who comes to Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachman with a question. "I have heard that you are a great master of aggadah," he begins.Aggadah is not an easy word to translate. Sometimes aggadah simply means storytelling. More broadly, it can refer to any form of Rabbinic discussion that is outside the subject of halakhah, Jewish law. It tells us that whatever troubles Rabbi Shimon, it is not something about which he expects a "straight" answer. He comes seeking a different level of discourse: not peshat, the simple meaning of the text, but something deeper. He is looking for meanings that are encoded, hinted at. Secret.
Then Rabbi Shimon asks his question: "From what was the light of the First Day created?"
Other rabbis have wondered about the light of the First Day. God said, "Let there be light, and there was light." (Genesis 1:3). But the sun, the moon, the stars--the me-orot or luminous bodies--were not created until the Fourth Day. Where then did the light of the First Day come from? This is what Rabbi Shimon is asking.
Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachman was indeed a master of aggadah, a teacher to whom the Rabbis turn again and again, in dozens of passages throughout the midrashic sources, to explain passages of Torah. To answer Rabbi Shimon, the midrash tells us, he lowers his voice to a whisper. "It teaches us," Rabbi Shmuel whispers, "that the Holy One, blessed be God, wrapped himself in it like a garment--and the luster of God's divine majesty illuminated the entire universe, from one end to the other!"
If a mysterious, and many-layered answer was what Rabbi Shimon was looking for, he had come to the right person. At first glance, Rabbi Shmuel does not even appear to answer the question; he merely reflects it back in different language. What does his answer mean? Where exactly did this light come from? And what does the image of God enrobing Godself with a garment come to teach us?
Other rabbis have wondered about the light of the First Day. God said, "Let there be light, and there was light." (Genesis 1:3). But the sun, the moon, the stars--the me-orot or luminous bodies--were not created until the Fourth Day. Where then did the light of the First Day come from? This is what Rabbi Shimon is asking.
Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachman was indeed a master of aggadah, a teacher to whom the Rabbis turn again and again, in dozens of passages throughout the midrashic sources, to explain passages of Torah. To answer Rabbi Shimon, the midrash tells us, he lowers his voice to a whisper. "It teaches us," Rabbi Shmuel whispers, "that the Holy One, blessed be God, wrapped himself in it like a garment--and the luster of God's divine majesty illuminated the entire universe, from one end to the other!"
If a mysterious, and many-layered answer was what Rabbi Shimon was looking for, he had come to the right person. At first glance, Rabbi Shmuel does not even appear to answer the question; he merely reflects it back in different language. What does his answer mean? Where exactly did this light come from? And what does the image of God enrobing Godself with a garment come to teach us?
With aggadah we have no choice: we have to slow down. We have to "turn it and turn it," as the Rabbis say, meditating on the meanings that emerge. (pp. 1-2)
-- submitted by Jennifer Knight