Bo
Exodus 10:1-13:16
Jeremiah 46:13-28
Among pastoral counselors and spiritual directors, especially Christian ones, one often hears talk of “discernment,” the spiritual process of reaching for divine guidance in the midst of life decisions. I have struggled to identify the Jewish equivalent, and had just about concluded that there is no such concept in Judaism. Until now.
The Ba’al Shem Tov, the founder of Chassidism, makes the following extraordinary comment. He begins with the famous verse in the introduction to the 10th plague: “Moses said, ‘So says God: Toward midnight I will go forth among the Egyptians'” (Exodus 11:4).
He continues as follows.
“What is essential is that one direct the thought of the heart toward heaven, even when the matter is difficult…Truly, one needs great equanimity to know whether [a particular course of action] means casting one’s lot for God or for Azazel [for hell, for evil, for hurt]…One must spend time alone and immerse oneself in Torah study, in order to become balanced. For it is written, “And God said, ‘Let there be light.” That is to say that God will bring light to our eyes through the light of Torah [when we seek to discern] whether to do something or not. As I have written elsewhere, ‘Toward midnight’ [in our verse] refers to times of doubt — when we do not know whether to go in one direction or the other. Then God goes forth into Mitzra’im — into one’s narrow place, to bring light to one’s eyes…” (Sefer Ba’al Shem Tov, Parashat Bo 1).
Remarkably, the Ba’al Shem Tov associates the description of the midnight hour, when the Torah says that death was to strike the firstborn of Egypt, with times of darkness, doubt and uncertainty in our own personal lives. He then reflects on how we might proceed when we must make a difficult decision or choose a path of action. In this brief teaching, he recommends a process for determining whether a course of action is for the best (“for the sake of heaven”) or “for hell” — for evil or for hurt.
He teaches that in order to make such a decision in a holy way, one must reach a place of equanimity. In order to get there, he teaches that we need the following:
*Solitude. We must spend time alone, in silent contemplation of the reality in which we find ourselves. In this quiet time, we may open ourselves to wisdom beyond what we could ordinarily access on our own.
*Torah study. We must immerse ourselves in Torah study. Here, in Torah, wisdom is to be found. Perhaps the period of Torah study clears our mind of clutter and brings us clarity. Or perhaps, synchronistically, a word or concept or narrative might jump off the page of the text, giving us a clue about what we must do.
*Balance. We must reach for a sense of balance, from which we can see clearly and choose wisely, knowing that our reflections are in tune with Torah and with the Holy.
When we have done these things, he promises, we will be given enlightenment about what we are to do. In fact, he assures us, God will seek us out in the midst of our personal darkness. In our own time of confusion or indecision, God, the Creator of light and the Giver of Torah, will bring light to our eyes and our minds.
Does this sound strange? Un-Jewish? A challenge to our assumption that we are in charge of our lives, and that our own intellectual resources are our only reliable source of personal direction?
Perhaps there is a place in the lives of sophisticated contemporary Jews for recognizing those moments when we need to turn beyond ourselves for guidance. Surely, we must always use the best of our own resources in running our lives. But in times of darkness and confusion, when the problem is larger than we are, we may need to lift our eyes to the heavens. Perhaps we even need to work to stay open, to actively cultivate our trust that light may come, that we may receive direction from an unexpected Source.
May this Shabbat bring us moments of light, guidance and inspiration.