Chutzpah, Voluntarism and Spirituality
September 5, 2009
In a pivotal but lesser known teaching, Nahman of Bratslav taught his followers that not everything was up to the teacher. He urged them to bring something new, of their own, to the Torah he presented. It would be best, of course, (he reserved some honorary status to himself!), if they mastered what he taught them. However, if that were not possible, he encouraged originality.
This teaching might suffice to base the work that lies in store for Havurah on creativity and imagination. But Nahman adds something else: he refers to the errant quality of our thoughts. It seems that it’s the view of the spiritual master that our proliferation of ideas – about goals, about art, about virtue, about fantasy – is a blessing and a curse. And it’s up to us to direct the power of our minds to a higher purpose. Especially if we consider what it means to be postmodern Jews, we are constantly breaking things down and reconceiving them. Not all our ideas or the combustible energy we bring to celebrating our great minds will bring us home. To be at home will require us to be intentional, truthful, and at rest.
At the Yamim Noraim (the Days of Awe), we come home to ourselves, as individuals and as a community. More than ever, in the Havurah we recognize this to mean that our diversity refers not only to color or gender or to status, but to imaginative prowess and volubility. We are producers of Jewish life. Everything depends on us expressing ourselves, but putting in the effort to work cohesively. To the extent that we can organize ourselves and play a role – whether it be within the context of advocating for debt relief for impoverished nations or in terms of bringing in new music and actually singing – we will work effectively. If we embrace spiritual practices instead of leaving them to others – we will have an impact. If we listen to one another reverently and empathically, we will nurture hope and habits of kindness. On the other hand, if we just make noise, it will be an indication of our failure.
Nahman saw that spontaneity in itself was a byproduct of human life. Anyone who meditates knows all about the thoughts that enter our heads and preoccupy us. They fire in our brain incessantly, and yet few of us would say that all of this energy is ultimately creative. The same goes for a community whose members go off on tangents, but seldom demonstrates the level of self-awareness and focus it takes to work out a program of action or engage in a discourse. Perhaps that’s the message of the Yamim Noraim. It’s the time of our lives to make clear who we are in a manner that opens us to communal possibility. It’s a return to the minyan – in the sense that the Hebrew term denotes “measured counting”. I encourage you to join us this year, as we strive to reconnect – deeply, diligently, with intention.
L’Shana Tova Tikatevu,
Rabbi Joey
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