A middle-aged couple planned to celebrate their newly acquired status as empty nesters; they planned to check into a luxurious country spa for a midweek retreat on their way home from dropping off their youngest child in his college dorm. Unfortunately, their dream getaway was dashed by the tragic untimely heart attack and death of the husband. When the bereaved wife called her children to inform them of the death of their father, her eldest son immediately told her he was coming to bring her home. She refused, telling him she made all the arrangements and would meet the family the following morning at the funeral home in Boro Park, Brooklyn. Her son was horrified, insisting that the children did not want her to spend the night “Alone?” she replied, “I am not alone. Hashem is with me.” While the woman in this real-life story seems too spiritual to be true, there are those who have walked in the ways of our forefathers and Torah heroes in their outstanding show of faith in God.
Rabbi Efrem Goldberg, in his weekly emunah class, distinguishes between three levels of faith. The first is emunah, which I understand to be the affirmation that Hashem is the “omnipotent” master of creation; yet, at this level, the certainty that He continues to orchestrate the running of the world has not yet been established. At the second, spiritually enhanced, level, bitachon, the understanding that Hashem extended Himself beyond creating the world—to orchestrating every aspect of our lives on this earth—is established. Moreover, it is at this level of faith that we also come to understand that “Hashem,” the God of mercy, and “Elokim,” the God of strict judgment, is one and the same; and even the justice He metes out is rooted in goodness and loving-kindness. Still, even those who achieve this level of faith have difficulty in sustaining it fully, particularly when faced with those uninspired moments or the challenges of pain, suffering and loss. Yet, our Torah teaches us that if we work hard enough to transcend these leaps of faith, He rewards us with a greater level of ease in sliding into the third, the most elevated and abstract highest, level of faith, “d’veikut.” Literally, d’veikut is interpreted as “clinging” to God; at this level, one can grow to enjoy an intimate relationship with Him by seeking out His presence each and every day in the many opportunities He sends us. This can be as simple as finding a close parking spot on a rainy day, or as deep as understanding why we are challenged with a specific hardship.
Indeed, those who are committed to reaching out and seeking God at this level are often blessed with feeling His “tap” on their shoulders or “kiss” on their cheeks; at the very least, they experience His comfort and support on a visceral level.
Despite knowing this, we find it so hard to establish and sustain this level of intimacy with Hakadosh Baruch Hu. This is because of the host of personal distractors that separate us from God, as well as the obstacles posed by the host culture within which we reside. For example, the literal translation of d’veikut is “clinging” to God connotes a sense of co-dependency, which is counterintuitive to the values advanced in an environment that places a premium on independence. This then poses a serious barrier to achieving the emotional and spiritual connectedness with God and our fellow man. Yet, based on the wisdom of the Nesivos Shalom, Rabbi Goldberg shows us how even ordinary people like you and I can overcome the obstacles we face in achieving the enhanced spiritual level of d’veikut.
In last month’s article, we saw that Yaakov reached this level when he recited the Shema upon reuniting with Yosef after the 22 years of separation. At that point in time, Yaakov recognized that “Hashem,” (our God of mercy and loving-kindness), “Elokeinu,” (our God of strict judgment, “Echad,” is one and the same. With these words, Yaakov crystalised the truth that the challenges we face are rooted in goodness. In Parshiot Yitro and Mishpatim, when Bnei Yisrael accepted the Torah with the words “Na’aseh V’nishma,” they committed to abiding by Hashem’s mandates prior to hearing them. Rabbi Goldberg, referencing the Chernobyler Rebbe, explains that the word na’aseh corresponds with yemei yeridah, the “uninspired” or “challenging” times in our lives; while nishma is associated with yemei aliyah the “highs” or days of great inspiration. The Slonimer Rebbe deepens our understanding on the placement of the word na’aseh prior to nishma. He explains that when the nation expressed the sentiments of na’aseh before nishma, this was a show of unconditional commitment, through the ups and downs Hashem sends our way. They were “in” not because they were inspired or that it would be easy, but because they knew with certainty that God had their back. While they would not always understand the ways of God, at the core they knew that it emanated from goodness and would result in goodness. This is also expressed in the words “V’atem, hadvaikim baElokim,” intimating that we will cling to Him when He expresses His midat hadin as well as His midat harachamim. Yet, knowing that this will be difficult for us, Hashem sends us reminders moment by moment and it is up to us to recognize them as such.
Yet, knowing that even in the pristine midbar the nation had difficulty in holding on to this level of d’veikut, then how can we in this very physical/material world expect to do so? Rabbi Goldberg makes a good case as to how the gift of Shabbos goes a long way in helping us transcend the barriers erected by our host culture. Indeed, the peace and serenity we experience on Shabbos, as we put aside the debris, stress and chaos of “our matter-clogged” lives, frees us of the distractors that separate us from Hakadosh Baruch Hh. Having lived through and survived the enslavement in Mitzrayim, and more recently through the Holocaust, on a national level we have surely affirmed that this truth continues to prevail. And realistically, we also know that throughout our lives we will slip out of the safe zones into the danger zones, where the safety of God seems out of our reach. Yet, we also understand that the Torah would always be accessible to us, guiding our way back into the warm embrace of God. Still, how do we know that holding onto this truth is sustainable on a personal level?
In the segment of Parshat Mishpatim where Hashem invites Moshe up to Har Sinai to receive the full version of the Torah, the words of Hashem seem to reflect a futuristic view of the world we live in today. Rabbi Goldberg references the Slonimer Rebbe, who notes and explains the redundancy in the wording of the pasuk: As it states: “…. Ascend to me, to the mountain and be there…. (Shemot: 24:12).” This raises the question as to why the Torah found it necessary to add the words “be there” if Moshe is already directed to ascend the mountain. Surely Hashem did not doubt that Moshe Rabainu would fail to follow His command. Rabbi Goldberg, in his typical manner of making this authentic for his audience, asks us to imagine the conversation that transpired between Moshe and Hashem: “…Come on Moshe, get off your cell phone, I don’t care who is on the phone and how much they think they need you; now it is time to be with Me.” With these extra words, Hashem communicated the message that He desired more from Moshe than to ascend the mountain and be physically there. Rather, Moshe was expected to be fully present, both emotionally and physically, sans any distractions. Indeed, the popularized word “absent-present” is one of the major obstacles to achieving d’veikut with Hashem. Moreover, if being fully present was expected of Moshe, who was second in command to the CEO of the world, engaged in the critical job of leading the nation, how much greater is our obligation in this matter!
Viewed from this perspective, and given the nature of the relatively petty distractors we face, we must take this message very seriously in order to sustain the d’veikut in the precious relationships we cherish with Hashem, our spouses and those we love and care about. Most importantly, we must be aware of the fact that the intimacy inherent in d’veikut is not something that can be called upon as a “per-need basis”; rather, it must be developed and nurtured over time in order to be available to us during all the joyous as well as challenging moments, when the desire and need to connect is at its strongest. Let us look to our Torah leaders and real-life heroes, the true role models in achieving the level of d’veikut. In doing so, we will hopefully enjoy the warm touch of God each and every day.
By Renee Nussbaum, PhD, PsyA
Renee Nussbaum is a practicing psychoanalyst with special training in imago relational therapy. She can be reached at [email protected].
