Rabbi Adam Rosenwasser

October 16, 2009

Lecha Dodi:  How We Greet Shabbat

I remember the most peaceful Shabbat I spent during my year in Israel .  After a grueling six week stretch of ulpan, intensive Hebrew learning, I and three new friends set off for an adventure.  We rented a little car (try renting a car in Israel … I dare you!), drove north, and arrived at our destination, the Golan Heights .  We spent a full week there, hiking through gorgeous late summer brown and green hillsides, swimming in waterfalls, and completely falling in love with the rugged, dusty plateau.

After our week long adventure, it was time for some Shabbat menucha, Shabbat rest.  What better place to spend Shabbat than in Tzfat, we figured.  We arrived at this hilltop city on Friday afternoon, as the sun was beginning to set over the nearby hills of the Upper Galilee .  We  put down our bags in our modest hotel room, showered, shaved, and dressed in our Israeli Shabbat best, i.e. naot sandals (just bought that week from the factory at Kibbutz Neot Mordechai!), khaki pants, and white polo shirts. Then, our Shabbat adventure began.  We walked the narrow cobblestone lanes and began to hear whispers, which became murmurings, which crescendoed into loud singing and rejoicing.     In every synagogue we passed, the congregation was singing a different tune of lecha dodi.  We heard the Sabbath bride being greeted over and over.  Each time, it felt more special to us.   Shabbat had arrived in Tzfat, and we were the guests at this wonderful occasion.

I have to believe this is the experience that the mystics of Tzfat, or, in English, Safed, enjoyed some 500 years ago, during the height of their creative energy.  You see, in 1492, after the expulsion of the Jews from Spain , many arrived here in the holy city of Tzfat .  Among those who arrived were early practitioners of Jewish mysticism, which had flourished in Spain . They chose Tzfat because of its location near Mount Meron , site of the grave of Shimon bar Yochai, the sage who supposedly wrote the Zohar, the central book of kabbalah.  As an added bonus, it is believed that the messiah will first appear on top of this sacred mountain.  The mystics believed that through their actions, they could hasten the arrival of the messiah and therefore bring ultimate redemption to the world. 

I also believe that the mystics chose to settle in Tzfat for another reason.  Its unique beauty.  Perched high atop the hills of Galilee , Tzfat is a spectacular city.  Its very name means “lookout,” and believe me, the lookout is majestic.  It feels as if you are in the middle of paradise.  Looking around the bend past a simple house, you are greeted with the view of majestic mountains, covered with lush green trees.  The air in Tzfat feels cool and refreshing.  The city never gets extremely hot, and it is also fairly isolated from the rest of the region.  To this day, many artists reside in the city, painting portraits of the lush landscape and the amazing synagogues scattered throughout the little town. 

One of the mystics who settled in Tzfat was Shlomo Alkabetz, also known as Shlomo HaLevi.  He began his life in Greece and Turkey .  One night, he had a mystical encounter with God, who told him to move to Tzfat.  He packed his bags and obeyed.  It was in Tzfat that he wrote Lecha Dodi, the poem I would like us to explore tonight.  Please open your siddur to page 20.  The first thing I would like you to do is to look at the first letter of verses 1-8 in Hebrew.  What does it spell? (wait…)  Yes!  Shlomo HaLevi.  He wrote his name into the poem.  HaLevi wrote what my teacher, Dr. Joel Hoffman, described as “The most perfect poem in our liturgy.”  Let us take a look at it and see if we agree.   

The chorus itself, lecha dodi likrat kala p’nei Shabbat nkabalah, tells us to go forth! Just as Abraham is told Lech Lecha, go forth, get out, lecha dodi tell us to go!  Take action!  Go outside.  Leave the narrow cobblestone walkways of the town and venture into the nearby hills.  This is exactly what the mystics of Tzfat would do.  They would put on their finest white robes, journey into the neighboring hills, sing, and greet Shabbat outdoors.  One can picture Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, the founder of Hasidism, basing his prayer a few hundred years later on Lecha Dodi.  For Reb Nachman, prayer should not be about huddling indoors hunched over a prayerbook.    He declared the following:

“Master of the universe, grant me the ability to be alone;
may it be my custom to go outdoors each day,
among the trees and grasses, among all growing things,
there to be alone and enter into prayer.

There may I express all that is in my heart,
talking with God to whom I belong.”

Lecha Dodi likewise reminds us to see prayer as active.  Judaism is a religion focused on exploring and experiencing the beauty of the outdoors.  The chorus demands that we go outside, to center ourselves, and to interact with God’s awesome creation as Shabbat begins.

Take a look at the first verse:  shamor v’zachor b’dibur echad.   The ten commandments appear twice in the Torah, the first time telling us to “shamor” keep the Sabbath- a matter of action, and the second time to “zachor,” remember the Sabbath- a matter of thought and intellect.  Shlomo HaLevy tells us that these are one and the same.  We keep the Sabbath through the mitzvot, the special obligations which separate Shabbat from the week; and also by changing our conscience and attitude.

Verse two continues with the physical language of likrat shabbat lechu v’nelcha, Come, let us go to greet Shabbat!  And the verse ends with the fascinating line, sof maaseh, b’machshevah t’chila,  literally translated, the final act, in thought first.  This is based on a midrash which teaches us that the purpose of the creation of the days of the week was to lead up to the creation of Shabbat.  Shabbat is thus the ultimate purpose behind the creation of time itself.  We especially remember this lesson this Shabbat as we begin reading the Torah again with bereshit, the creation of the universe.  Everything was created in six days, but on the seventh, God rested.  We go outside to greet Shabbat to remember that all of the beautiful creations of this world were made so that we may enjoy them as we rest and relax.

The third, forth, and fifth verses encourage us to rise up from ruin, that we will be redeemed.  Again, the language implores us to get up:  Kumi tz’ei in verse 3, get up and leave; may’afar kumi in verse 4, from the dust get up, and uri uri in verse 5, arise arise!  All of these verses are meant to provide encouragement, to keep us moving through the trials and tribulations of life.  The 4^th verse also includes messianic overtones, reminding us that the son of Jesse of Bethlehem will soon redeem us.  Picture the mystics of Tzfat, refugees from the Spanish inquisition, singing this with all their might next to Mount Meron .  They truly believed with these words that they could bring messiah into the world.  Lecha Dodi was their song of encouragement that every Shabbat offered them the opportunity to bring about the ultimate redemption. 

Even as the mystics adored Tzfat, they never forgot about Jerusalem .  Verse six imagines the redemption of Jerusalem , the city which will be rebuilt on its hill.  It shares its theology and language with the prayer for Jerusalem found in birkat hamazon, the blessing we say after meals.  Ultimate redemption, for the mystics, meant the resurrection of the destroyed city. 

Verse seven imagines the ultimate mystical wedding that is to come, that bride and groom will rejoice with one another, as the people Israel and God, united with the Sabbath bride, will rejoice.  This verse paired with the first verse declare the belief in the ultimate cosmic unity.  God is one and God’s name is one in the first verse, and here God will be reunited with Shabbat and Israel .  Kabbalists would point to the unity of the sefirot, of the various attributes of God, coming together here.

Verse eight implores us to spread out to the left and to the right; yamin u’smol tifrotzi.  Again, kabbalists make lots of different meanings out of the directionality.  But this verse perhaps also implores us to look around and witness God’s splendor all around us.  Again, the marriage metaphor carries over at the end of the verse “vnismicha v’nagila,” which takes its language from Isaiah where the prophet describes the ultimate marriage of God to the Jewish people.

During the final verse, we rise and face the entrance to the sanctuary.  A midrash informs us that this serves as a reminder that when we come to pray, we not only face the torah and the aron hakodesh, but we face Shabbat, who is entering as a kallah, a beautiful bride.  She is more than a guest, she is our mate.  Midrash Bereshit Rabbi informs us that each day of the week is paired with another day; Sunday with Monday, Tuesday with Wednesday, Thursday with Friday.  Saturday, or Shabbat, was jealous that she did not receive a mate.  So God told Shabbat that her mate would be the Jewish people.  Thus we rise and greet our bride as she arrives into our company.  It is also customary to bow on the words boi kallah, boi kallah, come bride, come bride, first to the left and then to the right.

We have moved from outdoors, from the oneness of the universe to the distinctively Jewish image of the Shabbat bride.   As our Torah moves from the universal creation of the world to focus on the particular story of the Jewish people, so too lecha dodi moves us from universal teachings about the oneness of God to the entrance of the one, beautiful Shabbat bride, our radiant and stunning partner. 

 It is no wonder that Lecha Dodi was composed in Tzfat.  For Lecha Dodi reflects the town, everything about it really.  Lecha dodi is about Shabbat, messianism, and the wonder of creation.  Lecha Dodi teaches all of us to greet Shabbat [1]with a full heart, and a ready soul.  The mystics went into the countryside around Tzfat to greet the Shabbat bride week after week.  As we sing this beautiful poem week after week at Beth Am, I invite you to take some time to greet Shabbat in whatever way feels comfortable for you.  Take a walk late Friday afternoon, focus on the distinctive beauty of northern California .  Try and release yourself from the burdens of the week.  If Friday is too stressful, find some time on Saturday afternoon.  But get up, get out, and the next time we sing Lecha Dodi, take a deep breath, and welcome Shabbat with every ounce of your being.  Shabbat Shalom.