Tefillah 069

19:
Before we leave our discussion of the Kedushah there are two terms that deserve our attention. As part of the introduction to the discussion on the kedushah we noted that our God, the Deity of the Founding Parents, the Deity who liberates the oppressed and controls the keys of life and death – our God is holy. What do we mean by the word 'holy'?

20:
The Hebrew adjective kadosh (holy) has two connotations. Its prime meaning refers to something that is set apart and removed. In a famous passage in the Torah [Leviticus 19:1-2] we read:

We might well ask ourselves in what way mere human beings can be holy as God is holy. A midrash [Vayyikra Rabba 24:4] interprets the adjective as perushim, which means 'separated', distanced'. The famous commentator Rashi [on Leviticus 19:2] says that this means that we sanctify ourselves by distancing ourselves from promiscuity, but while this is certainly a part of the concept it surely is not the totality of the concept. Observance of the laws of the Torah brings in its wake, inevitably, a distancing from the rest of the world, a separation. Let a sole example from hundreds that are possible suffice: if one observes the rules and regulations of kashrut properly one is inevtiably separated off from others, because one cannot share much of the food of those who do not observe those rules and regulations. That is why, when we perform a mitzvah, the accompanying benediction declares that God has made us holy through His commandments: we are indeed 'different' through our observance of the mitzvot.

21:
However, when that same adjective kadosh is applied to the Deity it bears its prime connotation: God is 'separate' and 'distanced' from the mundane; God belongs to an entirely different reality. There is no point of contact between the nature of the divine and the nature of the terrestrial. God's essence is so different (if one can even say such a thing) that the only adjective that can describe this difference is kadosh: in the case of God 'holy' means that God is so different, so distant, so absolutely not a part of the physical universe which we know and understand that the very contemplation of God fills us with awe and wonder. But, according to the prophet Isaiah, the term 'holy' is not enough to describe God's absolute 'removal' from everything we know and understand. All he can do is to repeat the adjective three times: "Holy, holy, holy is the God of Hosts" – utterly holy beyond even the comprehension of the angelic chorus. And if the angels cannot truly appreciate the holiness of the Deity what can be said of mere mortals?

22:
This brings us to the second term in connection with the Kedushah: the angels. Many moderns (perhaps most moderns) find the graphic descriptions of angels to be disconcerting. Where and how did the holy creatures (Ĥayyot ha-Kodesh) come to our service – and how do they fit in with our perception of God? It would seem to me that if we believe in God according to Rambam's 13 principles, there should be no place for a throne [Kissé Kavod] and no place for other supernatural beings. Now comes the obvious question – can we accept the belief in supernatural beings other than God, and in Ma'ase Merkavah? [See Tefillah 039 for an elucidation of this term.] How can we reconcile it with the belief in One God? And if not, should we continue to include them in our service?

23:
Thus we have two questions: what is the origin of the various angels that are mentioned in our prayers and can this be reconciled with our strict monotheism?

The prophets had vivid imaginations. Isaiah had envisaged the Deity as a monarch seated upon a high and lofty throne [kissé] surrounded by ministering fiery servants [serafim] who dared not even look at their sovereign [Isaiah 6:1-3]. Ezekiel had a different vision, which seems to be based on the pictures we see of historical Assyrian thrones. He sees [Ezekiel chapters 1 and 3] a throne supported by four-headed creatures [Ĥayot] – a throne which seems to have "wheels within wheels" [Ofanim] to transport it out of the doomed Jerusalem. Add to these the winged creatures [Cherubim] that protected the physical representation of the Divine Throne, the Ark of whose making we read in the Torah [Exodus 25:18-20] – and you have the biblical basis for a detailed angelology of Cherubs, Seraphs, Ĥayot and Ofanim. We have already pointed out how later mystics developed this visionary basis into a detailed heavenly host. [See Tefillah 039.]

24:
I do not see that angels constitute an immediate compromise of strict monotheism; this would only be the case if they were accorded a divine status, as being in some way part of or equal to the Deity. In Jewish thought this has never been the case. The Hebrew word for angel, Mal'akh strictly speaking means 'messenger' – as does the Greek word angelos. As long as angels are perceived only as agents of God I do not see how they could compromise even the strictest monotheism. For example, how does the angel that appears to Abraham at the crucial moment of the Akedah story [Genesis 22:11] compromise monotheism? The Sadducees, who were strict adherents of the written Torah and denied the right of the sages to interpret God's word, held that there were no such things as angels in the supernatural sense. Presumably, they held that every instance of the word mal'akh in the bible indicates a messenger from God of flesh and blood.

25:
However, I think that the real point of discomfort is with the very idea that other beings are even deemed to exist within the Divine aegis. Thus the question is not really directed at monotheism but at another basic conceptualization that we have concerning the holiness of the Deity: non-physicality. If God is non-physical how can the prophet speak of God being "seated on a high and lofty throne, his train filling the termple" [Isaiah 6:1]? But the question is even more complex. How many times do we read in the Torah "And Adonai said…"? But how can a non-physical Deity – by definition not possessed of vocal chords, a voice box and so forth – give utterance to anything at all?

26:
When we put the question in this manner I do not think anyone will find it difficult to understand why Rambam sees every physical reference to the Deity, even the remotest, as being pure metaphor and not to be understood literally. God does not sit, God does not speak, God does not really have "a strong hand and an outstretched arm" – the list of examples could be endless. As far as Rambam is concerned all such expressions are no less obviously metaphoric than for us, say, lines such as John Donne's "Death, be not proud … Death, thou shalt die" or Homer's "Gossomer-clad dawn". Death is not really a personal entity, and neither, of course, is the dawn, so the dawn cannot wear any clothes at all! And even the most patriotic American knows, when singing "My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing", that the home of liberty is not listening, cannot listen. "It is all pure metaphor, simile and anthropomorphism" as Rambam so lucidly put it.

27:
Now let us ask how this Deity, whose verity is so incomprehensible to us that we can only speak of God in metaphoric terms – how can this Deity be associated with angels?

Thus Rambam teaches that the concept "angel" is meant to indicate to the perceptive the idea that there are forces at work in the universe through which effect is given to God's absolute sovereignty: it all happens as an act of Divine will.

28:
We can now address what is, perhaps, the most important aspect of this discussion. If we have such a non-physical conceptualization of God and angels can we continue to utilize passages such as the Kedushah? – passages which do not seem to clearly state that the vision of God and angels presented therein is purely anthropomorphic and not to be understood literally.

I think there are two aspects here. Where the influence of the Jewish mystical tradition is untempered by philosophy such passages should be expunged entirely. For instance, every Friday night, in my own family, when we sing the poem Shalom Aleykhem we omit the third verse (according to the usage of the Ga'on of Vilna). That there are "angels" that bring the serenity and sanctity of Shabbat into our homes we can accept; that we ask those angels to bless us is theologically unacceptable. However, every Kedushah is prefaced with the assertion that we are merely imitating what the prophets tell us goes on in heaven 'as it were'. I think we are sufficiently sophisticated to understand these quotes as metaphors and similes to which we too aspire: the great and imponderable Deity is in complete control ("seated upon a high and lofty throne") and the Deity's will is effected by forces whose very activity declares God to be holy.

29:
God's glory is manifest to us every moment of every day. Unfortunately, we always mistranslate; the correct rendition of the angelic chorus is that "the wholeness of the world is His glory", and not "the whole world is full of His glory". Everything that we see around us, including our very selves, is a manifestation of the divine glory.

To be continued.

In Tefillah 067 we discussed the institution of Heuche Kedushah. I wrote:

A very good reason for not utilizing the Heuche Kedushah system is the fact that nowadays many worshippers are not fluent in their prayers. When the Amidah is recited more often privately than out loud it does not give such worshippers the opportunity for listening to the text as it is intoned out loud, and learning it… In those congregations where a considerable proportion of the worshippers are not fluent in their prayers it might be considered a good idea for the 'silent' Amidah to be recited out loud, in unison, by the whole congregation.

Elaine Friedland writes: Can you please define what do you specifically mean by the phrase "not fluent in their prayers."

I respond:

A short answer would be 'no'. It is difficult to be specific, because the issue might indicate many situations. For the sake of brevity I suggest just a few:

• People who would like to recite their prayers in Hebrew but have not yet learned to read Hebrew fluently;
• People who can read Hebrew but cannot read as fast as others in the congregation seem to be able to do;
• People who do not fully understand the text they are reading and pause every now and then to consider what a phrase might mean;
• People who are dyslexic.

I am sure that others will be able to add many more suggestions to such a list.