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Kabbala of Fiddler on the Roof
Lord who made the lion and the lamb
You decreed I should be what I am
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan
If I were a Wealthy Man?
Philosophical profundity crops in up in funny places. Fiddler on
the Roof is a sentimental, feel-good, dollop of schmaltz that has warmed Jewish
hearts for decades. Its enormous popularity has nothing to do with metaphysical
content. The video cassettes are not rented by scholars in quest of ontologic
truths. Nonetheless, there it is, put into the mouth of Tevye the milkman by an
unwitting lyricist, garnished with "yubba buhs" and accompanied by an antic
little jig: "Would it spoil some vast eternal plan / if I were a wealthy man?"  | | " What, if anything, is the meaning of finite physical existence?" |  |  |
Tevye is no theologian. He is obviously not interested in
discerning the Almighty's ways. The question is rhetorical, intended merely as a
little dig at G-d for His apparent indifference to Tevye's poverty. The
proposition that the foundation of the cosmos would be shaken in some way if
Tevye should come into a few rubles is clearly absurd, or so it would seem. In
fact, Tevye has raised one of the most enigmatic and recondite issues in
religious thought: What, if anything, is the meaning of finite physical
existence? The impecunious milkman would undoubtedly be shocked to learn that
the answer to his question is yes, it would spoil some vast eternal plan if he
were a wealthy man.
Tevye's query is really the following: I inhabit a minuscule
particle situated somewhere in an endless universe teeming with countless stars,
galaxies, and planets of mind-boggling proportions. I share this tiny speck with
six billion fellow humans. I will live for no more than 80 or 90 years, which in
cosmic terms is less then a blink of an eye. I am utterly dwarfed by the
endlessness of time and the boundlessness of space. How is it conceivable that
what I do or what happens to me is of any consequence whatsoever?
In order to address this question, we must first deal with a
misconception that is deeply ingrained in the human psyche: the size fallacy.
For example, a child stubs his toe getting out of bed in the morning and cries
in pain; on the same day a bomb scare at Kennedy International Airport delays
flights and inconveniences thousands of travelers. Which of these two stories is
likely to make the front page of the New York Times? Since, in either case,
nothing of any lasting consequence occurred, why is the airport closure news and
the toe stubbing beneath notice? Why does the conquest of Mount Everest still
excite the imagination, whereas the scaling of half a dozen more challenging
peaks attracts no attention at all? Why are the Eiffel Tower, the Rock of
Gibraltar, and the Empire State Building in New York major tourist attractions?
Why should anyone spend time and money in order to see a stack of girders, a
stone, or an office building? The answer is that all of the above are big, and
people instinctively (and mindlessly) equate size with significance.  | | " If bigger is better, infinite is best...." |  |  |
If bigger is better, infinite is best. In the presence of the
infinite, anything limited by dimensions, regardless of magnitude, is of no
account. A galaxy and a speck of dust are indistinguishable before the endless
expanse of the universe. Since Tevye is finite, neither he nor his circumstances
make a dent. Whether or not he were rich could no more botch up G-d's vast
eternal plan than would the removal of a drop of water from the Pacific ocean.
Tevye's first mistake is shackling G-d with the limitation of
infinitude. The term "infinite" defines a property, and it is, therefore, no
less restrictive that its antonym, "finite". The concept of properties or
characteristics is inapplicable to G-d . He is not infinite nor finite nor
anything else. There is nothing within the realm of created being that applies
to G-d and no term can describe Him. The names that we ascribe to G-d do not
denote His essence, but rather attributes through which he reveals Himself and
with which He interacts with creation. Terms such as "HaKadosh Baruch Hu"
("the Holy One Blessed Be He") and "Hamelech Hamromam" ("Exalted King")
define transcendent (infinite) manifestations of G-dliness, whereas " Shechina"
(the Divine Presence) and " Av Harachamim" ("Merciful Father") define
immanent (finite) modes of expression.
Since divine powers of transcendence and infinitude delineate
G-d's essence no better than those of immanence, our erroneous tendency to
identify G-dliness with infinitude simply reflects a natural human bias.
Significance, therefore, is determined not by size nor by any other property,
but rather exclusively by the will of the Almighty. That is, an entity is
significant if the Almighty so chooses. There is, accordingly, no basis for
Tevye to assume that he plays a negligible role in G-d's vast eternal plan
simply because he is small. On the contrary, the fact that the Almighty has
chosen to create, sustain, and relate to a puny, frail, mortal creature such as
Tevye, indicates that he is of great importance to G-d, if to no one else.
Tevye's second error is his assumption that the "vast eternal
plan" is modular, consisting of interchangeable, disposable parts. This
misconception follows naturally from the observation that when a prime minister
dies or a multinational corporation collapses, celestial orbits continue
unperturbed, the laws of nature remain in force and the world goes on pretty
much as before. The totality of being is unaffected by individual occurrences,
regardless of their local importance. To put it another way, the world appears
to comprise a multiplicity of autonomous, self-sustaining components engaged in
an endless variety of unrelated events. Thus, replacing Tevye the pauper with
Tevye the magnate would have no impact outside of Anatevka and should easily be
accommodated by the vast eternal plan.  | | " Creation is a form of language...." |  |  |
What Tevye does not understand is that creation is a form of
language. The symbols of language, the letters and words, are chosen and
arranged in such a way as to capture and reveal a thought or a feeling. Every
word in a sentence, as well as its relative position, contributes to the intent
and to the clarity of expression.
Consider the verse "Hear O Israel, G-d is our Lord, G-d is One".
It is well known that this ultimate statement of Jewish faith expresses the
unity of G-d, that He is the only true existence and that all other apparent
existence is merely a reflection of His true being. Suppose a scribe made a
small error and substituted the letter alef for the letter ayin at
the end of the word for "Hear", " Shma". Since the other 24 of the 25
letters (in the Hebrew version) are written correctly, 96% of the verse is just
fine and the inadvertent substitution should have a minimal effect. In fact,
this little alteration not only changes the meaning of the verse, it perverts it
entirely. The word "Shma" with an alef means "perhaps", so instead
of "Hear O Israel, G-d is our Lord, G-d is One" the verse now translates into
"Perhaps O Israel G-d is our Lord, G-d is One". Thus this little isolated change
has transformed the great statement of faith into a great statement of doubt.
Although substitution of other letters of the Shma may not result in such
a dramatic distortion in meaning, transposition, substitution, elimination, or
deformation of any individual letter is sufficient to render tefillin, a
mezzuzah, or an entire Torah scroll invalid.
Just as every letter of Torah captures an essential aspect of
divine will and wisdom, so is each detail of Creation a vehicle or a "letter"
through which a facet G-d's will and wisdom, as expressed in Torah, is embodied,
objectified and introduced into our physical world. In the words of the holy
Zohar, "He looked into the Torah and Created the world". This explains why Torah
Law governs every minute detail of life in this world, and why no object, act,
or event is beneath consideration by the vast corpus of oral Torah known as the
Talmud. Inasmuch as each particular of Creation is mandatory for the realization
of G-d's "vast eternal plan", Tevye has no case. He and the details of his life
are critical to the purpose of creation. He is not only important, but in a very
real sense, the very fabric of the cosmos depends upon him.
It is hard to imagine that such a complex and abstruse concept
as man's place in Creation emerged fortuitously from a Broadway Musical. In
fact, Tevye's query did not originate with Tevye. As is the case with any matter
of substance, the source is the Torah. The Talmud (tractate Taanit)
relates that Rabbi Elazar ben Pdat, who was exceedingly poor, once fell ill and
required bleeding, a common medical treatment in ancient times. Following the
procedure, he wished to strengthen himself by taking nourishment, but he was so
poor that all he had was a garlic peel. He ate he garlic peel and fell into a
faint during which he had a vision of the Divine Presence. He inquired of the
Divine Presence how long he was to be subjected to such grinding poverty. The
Divine Presence answered, "Elazar my son, do you wish that I destroy the
universe and reconstruct it so that you can perhaps be created in a time
favorable to prosperity?"  | | " The writer of Fiddler on the Roof could very well have recreated Tevye a wealthy man, but then he would no longer have a play...." |  |  |
The implication is obvious. Rabbi Elazer's penury is essential
to the vast eternal plan. Since Rabbi Elazer plays an integral role in the
divine scheme, were his situation to change, the macrocosm would have to be
redesigned so as to conform to his new standing. In other words, the "story" of
Creation would have to be rewritten so as to square with Rabbi Elazar's altered
situation. Similarly, the writer of Fiddler on the Roof could very well have
recreated Tevye a wealthy man, but then he would no longer have a play, and a
new story would have to be devised in which Tevye's affluence is meaningful.
Where then, does all of this leave Tevye, and for that matter,
the rest of us? Must we live lives of rigid predestination, locked into roles
demanded of us by the vast eternal plan, prisoners of our own indispensability?
We can not, after all, expect the Almighty to restructure creation in order in
order to adjust to our individual desires, or can we?
Consider prayer. If a friend lacks a livelihood (G-d forbid), we
pray that he be helped. In view of the implications of Tevye's query, prayer is
really nothing less then a request to the Almighty to reconstruct the universe.
What we are saying to G-d is that we are dissatisfied with a cosmic order in
which our friend is destitute, so would the Almighty be so kind as to scrap it
and invent a new one in which his circumstances include a reasonable income.  | | " We are not only characters in the divine Drama, we are co-authors...." |  |  |
Although this outlandish request seems like the ultimate in
chutzpah, we are not only entitled, but obligated to submit it. Praying for
those in need is not optional, it is a mitzvah, which is to say that G-d
commands us to do it. Moreover the Torah assures us that prayer does not go
unanswered, although the results may not be readily apparent. It would appear,
then, that we are not only characters in the divine Drama, we are co-authors.
Although, as presupposed by Tevye's query, we are puny, feeble,
vulnerable, fallible mortals, there are universal consequences to everything
that we do. Every prayer, every mitzvah, every act of kindness, every attempt at
self-improvement, redefines an individual's role in life, and necessitates a
corresponding refinement in the cosmos consistent with his or her new status.
The divine plan is thus constantly being amended to adjust to the improvements
introduced by ourselves, and we are, therefore, truly partners with the Almighty
in the progressive ongoing process of creating a perfect world. With each
positive act and subsequent revision of the "divine script", we advance ever
closer to the final draft.
Several years ago I asked a noted Kabbalist why Torah assigns
the term "nature" to the workings of the physical world whereas the higher
spiritual realms, antecedent to the physical universe, are considered above the
natural order. Are not these "worlds" also orderly, consistent, and governed by
immutable laws of cause and effect, and do they not, therefore, run according to
a type of nature? He smiled and answered that every time someone puts a coin in
charity box, or dons tefillin, or lifts someone's spirits with a kind word or a
smile, angelic vehicles of divine grace are created and new channels of G-dly
effulgence are opened in these worlds. Since every mitzvah produces radical
innovations, higher worlds are in a constant state of reorganization and they
have no stable nature. On the other hand, in this "natural" world the
revolutionary changes brought about by performance of Torah, mitzvot and prayer
are concealed by the coarseness of material existence and, although very real,
they are not apparent, at least not yet.
It is, therefore, clear that not only do our actions effect
changes in the vast eternal plan, we have been placed here specifically for that
purpose.
[From www.chabad.org; first published in Di Yiddishe Heim.]
Dr. Yaakov Brawer is Professor of Anatomy and Cell Biology at
McGill University Faculty of Medicine. He is the author of two books of
Chassidic philosophy, "Something From Nothing" and "Eyes That See".
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