The following primary source and commentary is excerpted from the forthcoming anthology Returning Higher: Hasidic Inspiration for the High Holy Day Journey by Aubrey L. Glazer, Or N. Rose, and Maeera Y. Shreiber with Jacob Chatinover and Jonah Mac Gelfand.

Shlomo HaKohen Rabinowicz of Radomsk, Tiferet Shlomo, Festivals, Erev Yom Kippur 5

Commentary and Personal Reflection:

As a child growing up in the San Francisco Bay area, ’Elul season did not bring with it the bold transitional colors of changing leaves or the shock of dropping temperatures. Instead, it was accompanied by the whisper of fog retreating from the Bay’s coastline; the haze that dominates the months of April to August would roll back, slowly revealing what was always there before. Each year, the Bay’s foggy veil slowly lifts at the same time that Judaism urges us to lift the veil around ourselves and our behavior; to gaze more honestly and have the humble wisdom to ask for and pursue something different. Even after a decade away from my childhood home, I find myself reaching for this image of the fog as a teaching on how to be gentle and consistent in my pursuit of inner clarity.

This practice of unveiling the truth of our deeds and responding to them anew is foundational to the practice of Selichot (Forgiveness Liturgy). In traditional Sefardic circles, the entire month of ’Elul is punctuated by the daily pre-dawn recitation of Selichot, while in Ashkenazi practice, it is recited daily starting at Motza’ei Shabbat [4] before Rosh HaShanah. Yet, across Jewish practice, reciting Selichot on Yom Kippur is the culmination of this period of asking for Divine forgiveness, insight, and the strength to change. It is on this potent, sacred time that Rabbi Shlomo HaKohen Rabinowicz of Radomsk (Radomsko, in Polish) (1801-1866), also known as the Tiferet Shlomo, seeks to comment.

In his above homily, the Tiferet Shlomo teaches that the inner, outer, and Divine planes are so fundamentally intertwined that it is impossible to speak of one without implicating the other. He interprets the verse “And The Holy Blessed One said ‘I forgave [salachti] according to your word [ki-dvarekha], however I live….’” (Num. 14:20-21) by outlining the interconnection of these three main realms: first, the intimate experience of the person who utters the Selichot liturgy. This includes the centrality of an individual’s alienation and the pursuit of behavioral and dispositional teshuvah in the context of the liturgy. Second, the communal anguish of the Jewish people’s experience of Exile. And finally, the Shekhinah (an aspect of the imminent Divine Presence), whose ontological reality is deeply impacted by, and reveals, the experiences concurring in the other realms. With this as his foundation, the Tiferet Shlomo powerfully teaches that through heartfelt prayer, humans have the power to affect the Divine realm. 

The idea that our human utterances affect the nature of the Divine’s existence hearkens back to foundational principles of penitential prayer set out by the Ba‘al Shem Tov. Scholar Louis Jacobs explains that to the Hasidim, “petitionary prayer [like Selichot liturgy] is not, in fact, a request to God to satisfy man’s needs but to satisfy His own needs. In the language of Hasidism, petitionary prayer is for the sake of the Shekhinah (‘Divine Presence’).” [5] Through this lens, prayers are “not for the different satisfactions of their own needs but are all for the lack in the Shekhinah evidenced in their own needs.” [6] According to this read, as one comes to understand the pain, grief, or lack in their own life and conduct, they recognize that their experience is a mirrored version of the pain or shortcoming experienced in the cosmic realm. When I neglected to speak kindly to my family this year, or berated myself for missing the opportunity to donate an appropriate amount to a cause close to my heart, the Shekhinah experienced estrangement, disappointment, pain, anxiety, and guilt with me.

When the Tiferet Shlomo uplifts this concept within Selichot specifically, he alludes to what we risk if we don’t look inside ourselves. Drawing upon the yearning of the season, he notes how the Shekhinah inherently desires to forgive us, and it is solely our ability to change which makes this possible. This leads me to ask, if our petitionary utterances mirror the lack of the Shekhinah, then what are the stakes of heartfelt words? And further, what are the stakes of engaging in repair and repentance if such acts directly affect the Divine’s experience of them, too?

The Tiferet Shlomo says that the stakes are no less than Cosmic Repair (Redemption), explaining that “when the Children of Israel were awakened in full teshuvah, surely The Holy Blessed One, [manifests as] The Redeemer, and The Bringer of Redemption.” He articulates that when full teshuvah is met with the focused, wholehearted utterance of the Selichot liturgy, we sacredly enable the Divine to redeem the world. The Tiferet Shlomo asks the verse, ‘Whose words have the power to forgive?’ and he says ‘Ours.’ Our wholehearted recitation of Selichot has the power to redeem us not only from our past deeds, but also to redeem an aspect of the Divine that was broken as we were broken. This redemption on all planes is also referenced in the homily as the particular Wholeness of “Ha-Qomah” or Shleimut, which is understood in Kabbalah as the integration of every aspect of Divinity in the Sefirotic tree. [7] When I utter Selichot with deep will and honest vision toward change, the completeness of my desire that I bring to my words means that I have already been forgiven completely, and I have brought myself and the Divine closer to something redemptive and Whole. [8]

The Tiferet Shlomo offers a simple and radical teaching: the fates of every part of existence are tied together. Sometimes it can feel overwhelming to be a part of this project of Redemption because of the enormous pressure I experience to be as perfect as possible for the sake of the world. But what if instead of feeling heavy with responsibility, we can actually feel ourselves buoyed by the powerful interconnectedness that defines the project? The Tiferet Shlomo reminds us that we have both power and responsibility because all exiles are intertwined, that none of these exiles – neither that of our consciousness and behavior from our true and whole Selves, nor from our fellow human beings near and far, nor the exile of the Shekhinah from the other parts of Herself — can be undone alone. [9] We are intertwined in a wide and varied web of solidarity: our precarity is the Divine’s precarity, our yearning our neighbors’ yearning, our rupture the Cosmic rupture, our healing the Divine healing.

During this Selichot season, may the words of the Tiferet Shlomo invite us into asking how we can roll back the fog covering our lives, and ask for more. How might we be strengthened in redemptive work by knowing that we are never alone, and that the best we have to offer will be enough? As we seek to answer these questions, let us remember that even by uttering these words of yearning, we are already on our way toward gazing at the view of a life of forgiveness. May our voices be heard on High, and may we feel their transformation and possibilities everywhere.

Questions for Reflection & Discussion: 

1. What is a part of yourself that has felt exiled this year? How and why has it felt estranged? How might you begin to reintegrate it into yourself?

2. Are there any actions you have done this year about which you have felt ashamed? What do you need in order to take one step from that place of shame toward a place of honesty and transformation?

3. What does a practice of redemptive transformation (with yourself, with others, with the Divine) look like for you according to your own talents and abilities? How can you support yourself and others in pursuing that experience?

Endnotes:

[1] Yom Kippur liturgy, prologue to ‘Al Chet: “תַּעֲבֹר עַל פֶּֽשַׁע לְעַם שָֽׁבֵי פֶֽשַׁע”, based on Isa. 59:20.

[2] Cf. bKəritot 7a.

[3] Ed: That God’s presence has been in self-imposed exile in order to be with the people in their exile is a midrashic theme found in many places. Among them: Mekhilta’ D’Rabbi Yishma‘el tractate Pischa 14:22; Sifrei Bemidbar 84:4 and 161:5; jTa‘anit 1:1; bMegillah 29a. It became a central tenet in later kabbalistic theology and was greatly expanded upon in Hasidic writings, as will be explained.

[4] Saturday evening.

[5] Louis Jacobs, “The Nature of Hasidic Prayer” in Hasidic Prayer (New York, NY: Schocken Books Inc., 1973), 23.

[6] Ibid, 30. 

[7] This refers to the Kabbalistic idea of Divine integration of all parts of the Sefirotic tree, specifically the seven Lower Sefirot (sometimes called “The Body”) with the three Upper (sometimes called “The God Head”) such to create a full (Shalem) measure (qomah) of the ‘body’ as it were, of G!d through the measurement of the Sefirotic tree. This concept is outlined in Shiur Komah, a book of Merkava mysticism.. See Rachel Elior, “The Origins of Hasidism,” SCRIPTA JUDAICA CRACOVIENSIA, Vol. 10 (2012): 85–109.

[8] A reference to Shleimut: the Divine integration of all parts of the Sefirotic tree, specifically the seven Lower Sefirot (sometimes called “The Body”) with the three Upper (sometimes called “The God Head”). 

[9] The other nine Sefirot on the Sefirotic tree.