Zissi Skarzhinskaya
Based on a lesson by N. A. Hirsch (head of the Ashira midrasha)
“May G-d make room for Japheth, and may he dwell in the tents of Shem!” (Genesis, 9:27).
Hanukkah has passed. We recalled the Hasmoneans' victory over the Greek armies, culture, and oppressive laws…
But aesthetics and beauty themselves are certainly not alien to us. Especially to us women. In Judaism, it is customary to beautify the mitzvot—that is, to buy beautiful silver candlesticks, an etrog box, a Hanukkah menorah… And how we decorate the sukkah! A woman in Judaism adorns herself to be beautiful for her husband. Among other things, a beautiful wife, like a beautiful home, opens up a person's mind. For us, beauty is a means of serving the Almighty.
Thus, Judaism is not opposed to beauty and aesthetics when they are “in the tents of Shem.”
Our difference with the Greeks is essentially a matter of what is primary and what is secondary. Physical beauty is not an end in itself. Greek culture could not see “beyond its own nose”—that is, beyond the limits of the body. Everything is done to develop muscles, to make movement graceful, to stir emotions, to enjoy music and painting simply for the sake of enjoyment, as an end in itself. That does not suit us. Art must serve the Almighty, as must the person who practices it and creates works of art.
In Remembrance of Creation
The three practices the Greeks banned—observing Shabbat, performing circumcision, and sanctifying the months—were meant to distance the Jews from the Creator.
The process of creation, of bringing things into being, had ended in the Greeks' view, and now man, “the crown of nature,” was by definition above everything else. “Nature, science, philosophy—this is our limit”: that is the Greek “ceiling.” This world, and nothing beyond it. And the Jews interfered with the Greeks' enjoyment of life, because the Jews have the World to Come.
All of us women who do not study the Talmud and Midrashim believe that the revolt began because of these decrees. To a large extent, that is true, but…
No Private Life
But in fact, for the Hasmoneans, for the family of Mattathias, it all began with his daughter, who became betrothed to her fiancé. And then… She had to undergo a terrible ordeal—the “right of the first night.” And she was the one who roused her brothers to war. She was the one who insisted that they come to their senses and not send their sister to be violated.
There is a Midrash that says that, among other things, the Greeks forbade Jews to put locks and bolts on their doors, under penalty of death, so that we would have no private space and no private life, so that anyone could enter a home at any time of day or night. [The Nazis did the same in the ghettos—editor's note.] As a result, the Jews would have no self-respect… And so the Jews removed all their doors altogether, and they could not eat or drink at home or have marital relations.
It is interesting that this prohibition was devised by the “cultured” Greeks. In general, their culture allows a good deal of license when it comes to things that Judaism treats seriously and reverently. The Greeks laid bare what we keep hidden beneath the veil of modesty. Do you have something worthwhile? Show it! Something beautiful, but not for everyone? Haul it out here! Emotions on display. Nothing personal, nothing intimate. The Jewish home has been broken into. Who is supposed to protect it?
And Who Won?
The Hasmoneans won the war against the Greeks. But have we won the war against Greek culture? Have we confined the beauty of Japheth to the tents of Shem?
The war continues. “In those days,” but “at this time”—in our time.
The Greeks did not tell us to open the door completely, not at all. Just remove the lock, take off the bolt. The Greeks wanted to get us used to thinking that we were, as it were, behind closed doors, so we would go on behaving as though we were alone. But in fact, at any moment, any Greek could come in and peek… This was the very first idea for a “reality show,” starring the Jewish people!
The Jews fully understood the meaning of this prohibition, and therefore removed the doors altogether—so that they would not gradually become accustomed to licentiousness, so that it would be immediately clear that there was really no door, not even a semblance of decency. Thus, everyone learned to behave very modestly in their own home, as though they were constantly being watched from every direction. And since even eating is an intimate act for Jews, they could neither eat nor drink in their own homes. This affected women most of all, because we identify ourselves with our homes.
How, then, do the Greeks enter our private space (in Hebrew, reshut hayachid)? Through networks (a net is a reshet), social networks. Respectable Jewish women photograph and post every moment of their lives! Our home has been caught in the net—it has been photographed from every angle—along with our children, our free time (with our girlfriends and our husbands), our food and drink! Previously, we saw only Japanese tourists with phones on sticks who, wherever they went, saw the world through a phone screen. But now every other person takes a photograph before eating. As though we need witnesses, or more than that, people to rate our every action.
Someone has baked beautiful challahs—let us say that showing a photo of the challahs is Japheth in the tents of Shem. Torah lessons online, lessons on healthy eating—these benefit many people. But sometimes things that should remain intimate and private are put on public display.
Live Your Own Life, Feel Your Own Emotions
Sometimes it seems that if you look at yourself “from the outside,” life will appear brighter than it really is. If your page online is adorned with photographs, it feels as though your whole life is just as adorned. This is living “alongside” your own life. If a phone camera does not capture an event, it is as though it never happened. Not connecting with your children in real life, but looking at their smiles in photos. Not communicating with your husband, but exchanging remarks: “Here's the food,” “Did you pick up the children?” “Who's going shopping?” And everything else goes into the screen. That is where the emotions are: “Which facial expression goes with this caption?” “What should my emotions look like in this situation?” rather than “What should I feel in life?” We build our own virtual world, our own world on the other side of the looking glass—and voluntarily move into it.
Rabbi Nachman of Breslov writes (Teaching 54): “Important things must always be remembered, without allowing forgetfulness (shikhechah), that is, ‘death of the heart’ (mitat halev). And the most important thought, which must never leave one's consciousness, is the thought of the World to Come, so that one does not come to think that only this world exists, G-d forbid. And by keeping the World to Come in his thoughts, he helps reveal the Creator's oneness.”
We must not allow forgetfulness. The word shikhechah contains the same letters as the word chashechah, darkness.
The Sages explain that the darkness is the enlightened culture of the Greeks. On the eighth of Tevet, when the Torah was translated into Greek, the world was plunged into darkness for three days. Again and again, we forget what matters most—there are so many events around us that “dim” the light for us.
There is such a thing as autumn and winter depression, associated, among other things, with the shortening of daylight hours. The soul and body are connected (although psychosomatics is a Greek concept, we know this better than the Greeks), so although it has become darker around us, outside, its effects are felt as inner emotional ailments: low mood, melancholy, and tiring easily. By analogy, we can imagine how the darkness that descended during the Greek exile affected the soul.
What will happen if, like the Greeks, we immerse ourselves completely in this world?
“Death of the Heart”
What is it? A dead heart feels nothing. Nothing touches it. The emotional richness of one's experience of life is dulled or absent altogether. Life has lost its flavor.
It turns out that remembering the World to Come is precisely what gives our life in this world its flavor (meaning)! That is, if we are drawn into the whirl of events in this world, we “die” in our hearts, but if we always remember the World to Come, we live.
It is, of course, possible to observe the mitzvot, pray, and study with a “dead heart,” out of habit, to tick a box. To keep the heart alive, to keep it beating, it needs vital energy, blood—the soul. Every act connected with the mitzvot must be done with soul, with joy, wholeheartedly.
But let us even set aside the relationship between a person and G-d for a while. “Death of the heart” can also occur in relationships between people. A husband and wife decide to go out to dinner together. He is on his phone; she is on her phone. This is their evening together! Look at each other! There, in the eyes of someone dear to you, is a better place to see your reflection than on a phone screen. This evening is not just a photo together at the table. Why did the couple need this dinner together? To become emotionally closer to one another, to feel, to live for one another! To live! But what happens instead is… “death of the heart.”
To Shine
The Hanukkah candles repair what the Greeks wanted to damage. The Hanukkah menorah stands at the entrance to a Jewish home, showing everyone that this is the boundary. Beyond it is private territory. Beyond it, you are intruding into someone's private life. The Hanukkah candles shine from the inside out. Their task is akin to that of the entire Jewish people—to be a “holy nation,” to illuminate the world with the light of moral purity, the light of Torah.
Not only “in those days,” but also “at this time.” The days of Hanukkah are ordinary days, not Yom Tov. That is, on an ordinary day, amid our routine activities, we light candles and gather as a whole family to experience holiness.
We can extend this to our entire lives. An ordinary day, a pile of tasks, your head spinning. But if we make an effort, we can try to create a small measure of holiness (the size may differ for each of us), a corner of tranquility, like the World to Come (me'ein olam haba).
First Thing
What is the first thing we do upon waking? Even before netilat yadayim? We think about something.
We can think about the pile of tasks that lies ahead. Some people's first concern is the news from around the world and what their electronic net has brought them.
However, there is a way to begin the day immediately with holiness, with what matters most. The Shulchan Aruch lists six “constant mitzvot” that a person can fulfill in thought and whose observance does not stop for even an instant. Here they are:
— Believe in the one Creator;
— Do not believe in any power other than Him;
— The oneness of the Creator (He governs and directs everything, without partners, and has not endowed any helpers with independent power);
— Love the Creator;
— Fear the Creator;
— Do not stray after the thoughts of your heart and after your eyes.
This will immediately set our thoughts on the right wavelength from the very first moments of the day. Remembering this takes no effort (after all, you can print it out and hang it where you can see it). At the same time, we immediately distance ourselves from shikhechah, that is, from “death of the heart.”
What Resembles What?
A person is always striving for something. And if they see that someone has already achieved what they want—fame, wealth, honor—they want to be like that person. In our time, this reaches absurd extremes. Take the world around us. On the one hand, there are people who have accomplished something. They write books, and those who want to achieve the same read those books and learn. On the other hand, there are those who believe it is enough to look like them, have plastic surgery, dress the same way, adopt similar facial expressions and poses—and you, too, are successful, rich, and famous. It turns out that the world is moving increasingly toward outward, imagined similarity and thinking much less about what is inside.
Kabbalah has a concept called “koach hamedameh,” the power of imagination. Rabbi Chaim Vital discusses it when describing prophecy. A person's rational soul ascends, receives prophecy, then descends and passes it on to the animal soul, which has the power of imagination through which prophecy takes on a form we can understand. Imagination mixes lofty truth with complete falsehood, so it needs constant correction, yet it also helps us correct ourselves. For example, if we imagine eternity in relation to life in this world, everything falls into place in its proper proportions. Yet how powerfully uncorrected imagination rules today!
Under the Almighty's Watchful Eye
“Every day contains thought, speech, and action. Each day, the Almighty contracts His infinite light to the central point where our material world is situated (…). And He prepares for each person their thought, speech, and action (suited) to that day, that person, and that place. And in this thought, speech, and action, the Almighty ‘clothes’ symbols (signs, hints) in order to draw the person closer to serving Him. Therefore, a person must deepen their awareness and broaden their understanding in order to understand exactly which sign is hidden in each thought, speech, and action.” Rabbi Nachman continues in this vein (ibid.).
The Greeks tried to instill in us the idea that nothing exists beyond this world. Very much like: “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we shall die” (Isaiah 22:13). And there are no miracles, and there is no individual providence (hashgachah pratit). They were very much mistaken.
Each day, the Almighty sends thought, speech, and action to each person individually, meant just for that person. If we tune in, if we pay attention, we can catch the signs, the hints that are sent to us. Sometimes a thought arrives just in time; suddenly, in a conversation, you hear the answer to your question. We were just talking about someone—and suddenly that person walks in; we were thinking about someone—and suddenly they call. All these are “little signals” we receive “from Above.” Sometimes a person is simply amazed at how timely and precise the next hint sent to them is. And then they feel that someone is watching over them, caring for them, that they are not alone. This feeling is like a kind touch, like little lights in the darkness. It is that very “little light” that can “dispel a great darkness.”
Peeping
Sometimes, when a person lacks the feeling that the Almighty is watching over them, they begin to invent or find a “Big Brother” of their own, surveillance of their phone, an “electronic eye.” This is the other side of putting one's private life on display. If we allow nets to enter our home, it is logical to assume that fishermen may follow the nets. Only the first is done for one's own enjoyment, while the second arises from fear born of permissiveness and the exposure of any information, even the most personal.
One of the strongest manifestations of the evil inclination is peeping. The Greeks understood perfectly well that an open door is not as interesting as looking through a crack. The very same sight, but it is as though no one can see me. This inflames desires even more. It does enormous harm to the soul. It was not for nothing that the Sages of that time preferred to remove all the doors.
Nowadays, peeping even comes dressed up as “psychological help.”
Instead of working through their family problems privately with a specialist, a husband and wife have to account for themselves before a group of people, the “participants”: “Come on, let's see how you argue!” All these complete strangers intrude into their home, analyze their personal relationship, and judge them. Everyone present is, as it were, somewhere they have no business being, peeping at how this couple lives. Or emotional healing groups, where a person has to “open up completely.” If the Almighty wanted all our thoughts to be clear to everyone we met, He would have made our heads transparent or equipped them with a screen—is that not within His power? But He wanted the personal to remain personal, the intimate to remain intimate.
“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is vain; a woman who fears the L-rd is to be praised” (Mishlei 31:30).
We are now beginning the Book of Shemot, the book in which the people were saved in the merit of Jewish women. And what can we ourselves do?
We can learn from fish the art of avoiding nets. It is precisely in these “nets” that we see how vain beauty becomes, how much effort goes into futile attempts to imitate someone else's charm. We can counter this with a “living heart,” the ability to live our own lives today, to see miracles—to notice signs sent to us personally—because the Almighty is watching over us.
We need to remember that filming ourselves is unnecessary work. “Know what is above you: an eye that sees, an ear that hears, and all your deeds are recorded in a book” (Pirkei Avot, 2:1). Everything has already been filmed and saved, and eventually we will be shown this film from beginning to end. And we will sign our names beneath every photo, every “selfie,” however unflattering they may be. Only He has enough gigabytes to store our entire lives.
So we need to restore a sense of proportion: photography in itself is not evil; beauty and aesthetics in themselves are not evil. We simply must not give Japheth too much room, so that we can still fit him into the tents of Shem.