(סג) וַיֵּצֵ֥א יִצְחָ֛ק לָשׂ֥וּחַ בַּשָּׂדֶ֖ה לִפְנ֣וֹת עָ֑רֶב וַיִּשָּׂ֤א עֵינָיו֙ וַיַּ֔רְא וְהִנֵּ֥ה גְמַלִּ֖ים בָּאִֽים׃ (סד) וַתִּשָּׂ֤א רִבְקָה֙ אֶת־עֵינֶ֔יהָ וַתֵּ֖רֶא אֶת־יִצְחָ֑ק וַתִּפֹּ֖ל מֵעַ֥ל הַגָּמָֽל׃ (סה) וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אֶל־הָעֶ֗בֶד מִֽי־הָאִ֤ישׁ הַלָּזֶה֙ הַהֹלֵ֤ךְ בַּשָּׂדֶה֙ לִקְרָאתֵ֔נוּ וַיֹּ֥אמֶר הָעֶ֖בֶד ה֣וּא אֲדֹנִ֑י וַתִּקַּ֥ח הַצָּעִ֖יף וַתִּתְכָּֽס׃
(63) And Isaac went out walking in the field toward evening and, looking up, he saw camels approaching. (64) Raising her eyes, Rebekah saw Isaac. She alighted from the camel (65) and said to the servant, “Who is that man walking in the field toward us?” And the servant said, “That is my master.” So she took her veil and covered herself.
(א) לשוח לְשׁוֹן תְּפִלָּה (בראשית רבה), כְּמוֹ יִשְׁפֹּךְ שִׂיחוֹ (תהילים ק"ב):
(1) לשוח TO MEDITATE — this means “to pray” (Genesis Rabbah 60:14), as we find (Psalms 102:1) “[A prayer of the afflicted …] when he pours out his lamentation."
יִצְחָק תִּקֵּן תְּפִלַּת מִנְחָה, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר ״וַיֵּצֵא יִצְחָק לָשׂוּחַ בַּשָּׂדֶה לִפְנוֹת עָרֶב״, וְאֵין ״שִׂיחָה״ אֶלָּא תְּפִלָּה, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר ״תְּפִלָּה לְעָנִי כִי יַעֲטֹף וְלִפְנֵי ה׳ יִשְׁפֹּךְ שִׂיחוֹ״.
Isaac instituted the afternoon prayer, as it is stated: “And Isaac went out to converse [lasuaḥ] in the field toward evening” (Genesis 24:63), and conversation means nothing other than prayer, as it is stated: “A prayer of the afflicted when he is faint and pours out his lamentation [siḥo] before the Lord” (Psalms 102:1). Obviously, Isaac was the first to pray as evening approached, at the time of the afternoon prayer.
(א) לשוח בשדה... ולא מצאנוהו בשום מקום שיהי' מובנו טיול, ולכן בהכרח אין הפירוש כאן כמו שרגילים לפרש – לטייל בשדה, ופירוש חז"ל הוא עומק פשוטו של הלשון ואמתתו.
“We have not found in any place that the [word lasuaḥ] means tiyul “to travel about”, therefore certainly there is no meaning here as many explain “letayel in the field”, the Rabbis’ explanation is the only true literal one.”
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
The Sabbath
Judaism is a religion of time aiming at the sanctification of time. Unlike the space-minded man to whom time is unvaried, iterative, homogeneous, to whom all hours are alike, quality-less, empty shells, the Bible senses the diversified character of time. There are no two hours alike. Every hour is unique and the only one given at the moment, exclusive and endlessly precious.
Judaism teaches us to be attached to holiness in time, to be attached to sacred events, to learn how to consecrate sanctuaries that emerge from the magnificent stream of a year. The Sabbaths are our great cathedrals; and our Holy of Holies is a shrine that neither the Romans nor the Germans were able to burn; a shrine that even apostasy cannot easily obliterate: the Day of Atonement. According to the ancient rabbis, it is not the observance of the Day of Atonement, but the Day itself, the “essence of the Day,” which, with man’s repentance, atones for the sins of man.
Jewish ritual may be characterized as the art of significant forms in time, as architecture of time. Most of its observances–the Sabbath, the New Moon, the festivals, the Sabbatical and the Jubilee year–depend on a certain hour of the day or season of the year. It is, for example, the evening, morning, or afternoon that brings with it the call to prayer. The main themes of faith lie in the realm of time. We remember the day of the exodus from Egypt, the day when Israel stood at Sinai; and our Messianic hope is the expectation of a day, of the end of days.
In a well-composed work of art an idea of outstanding importance is not introduced haphazardly, but, like a king at an official ceremony, it is presented at a moment and in a way that will bring to light its authority and leadership. In the Bible, words are employed with exquisite care, particularly those which, like pillars of fire, lead the way in the far-flung system of the biblical world of meaning.
One of the most distinguished words in the Bible is the word kadosh, holy; a word which more than any other is representative of the mystery and majesty of the divine. Now what was the first holy object in the history of the world? Was it a mountain? Was it an altar?
It is, indeed, a unique occasion at which the distinguished word kadosh is used for the first time: in the Book of Genesis at the end of the story of creation. How extremely significant is the fact that it is applied to time: “And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy.” There is no reference in the record of creation to any object in space that would be endowed with the quality of holiness.
This is a radical departure from accustomed religious thinking. The mythical mind would expect that, after heaven and earth have been established, God would create a holy place–a holy mountain or a holy spring–whereupon a sanctuary is to be established. Yet it seems as if to the Bible it is holiness in time, the Sabbath, which comes first.
When history began, there was only one holiness in the world, holiness in time. When at Sinai the word of God was about to be voiced, a call for holiness in man was proclaimed: “Thou shalt be unto me a holy people.” It was only after the people had succumbed to the temptation of worshipping a thing, a golden calf, that the erection of a Tabernacle, of holiness in space, was commanded. The sanctity of time came first, the sanctity of man came second, and the sanctity of space last. Time was hallowed by God; space, the Tabernacle, was consecrated by Moses.
While the festivals celebrate events that happened in time, the date of the month assigned for each festival in the calendar is determined by the life in nature. Passover and the Feast of Booths [Sukkot], for example, coincide with the full moon, and the date of all festivals is a day in the month, and the month is a reflection of what goes on periodically in the realm of nature, since the Jewish month begins with the new moon, with the reappearance of the lunar crescent in the evening sky. In contrast, the Sabbath is entirely independent of the month and unrelated to the moon. Its date is not determined by any event in nature, such as the new moon, but by the act of creation. Thus the essence of the Sabbath is completely detached from the world of space.
The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.
The Sabbath
Judaism is a religion of time aiming at the sanctification of time. Unlike the space-minded man to whom time is unvaried, iterative, homogeneous, to whom all hours are alike, quality-less, empty shells, the Bible senses the diversified character of time. There are no two hours alike. Every hour is unique and the only one given at the moment, exclusive and endlessly precious.
Judaism teaches us to be attached to holiness in time, to be attached to sacred events, to learn how to consecrate sanctuaries that emerge from the magnificent stream of a year. The Sabbaths are our great cathedrals; and our Holy of Holies is a shrine that neither the Romans nor the Germans were able to burn; a shrine that even apostasy cannot easily obliterate: the Day of Atonement. According to the ancient rabbis, it is not the observance of the Day of Atonement, but the Day itself, the “essence of the Day,” which, with man’s repentance, atones for the sins of man.
Jewish ritual may be characterized as the art of significant forms in time, as architecture of time. Most of its observances–the Sabbath, the New Moon, the festivals, the Sabbatical and the Jubilee year–depend on a certain hour of the day or season of the year. It is, for example, the evening, morning, or afternoon that brings with it the call to prayer. The main themes of faith lie in the realm of time. We remember the day of the exodus from Egypt, the day when Israel stood at Sinai; and our Messianic hope is the expectation of a day, of the end of days.
In a well-composed work of art an idea of outstanding importance is not introduced haphazardly, but, like a king at an official ceremony, it is presented at a moment and in a way that will bring to light its authority and leadership. In the Bible, words are employed with exquisite care, particularly those which, like pillars of fire, lead the way in the far-flung system of the biblical world of meaning.
One of the most distinguished words in the Bible is the word kadosh, holy; a word which more than any other is representative of the mystery and majesty of the divine. Now what was the first holy object in the history of the world? Was it a mountain? Was it an altar?
It is, indeed, a unique occasion at which the distinguished word kadosh is used for the first time: in the Book of Genesis at the end of the story of creation. How extremely significant is the fact that it is applied to time: “And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy.” There is no reference in the record of creation to any object in space that would be endowed with the quality of holiness.
This is a radical departure from accustomed religious thinking. The mythical mind would expect that, after heaven and earth have been established, God would create a holy place–a holy mountain or a holy spring–whereupon a sanctuary is to be established. Yet it seems as if to the Bible it is holiness in time, the Sabbath, which comes first.
When history began, there was only one holiness in the world, holiness in time. When at Sinai the word of God was about to be voiced, a call for holiness in man was proclaimed: “Thou shalt be unto me a holy people.” It was only after the people had succumbed to the temptation of worshipping a thing, a golden calf, that the erection of a Tabernacle, of holiness in space, was commanded. The sanctity of time came first, the sanctity of man came second, and the sanctity of space last. Time was hallowed by God; space, the Tabernacle, was consecrated by Moses.
While the festivals celebrate events that happened in time, the date of the month assigned for each festival in the calendar is determined by the life in nature. Passover and the Feast of Booths [Sukkot], for example, coincide with the full moon, and the date of all festivals is a day in the month, and the month is a reflection of what goes on periodically in the realm of nature, since the Jewish month begins with the new moon, with the reappearance of the lunar crescent in the evening sky. In contrast, the Sabbath is entirely independent of the month and unrelated to the moon. Its date is not determined by any event in nature, such as the new moon, but by the act of creation. Thus the essence of the Sabbath is completely detached from the world of space.
The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.
Mircea Eliade
The Sacred and the Profane: the Nature of Religion
For religious man, space is not homogeneous; he experiences interruptions, breaks in it; some parts of space are qualitatively different from others. "Draw not nigh hither," says the Lord to Moses; "put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground" (Exodus 3:5). There is, then, a sacred space, and hence a strong, significant space; there are other spaces that are not sacred and so are without structure or consistency, amorphous. Nor is this all. For religious man, this spatial non-homogeneity finds expression in the experience of an opposition between space that is sacred--the only real and real-ly existing space--and all other space, the formless expanse surrounding it.
The Sacred and the Profane: the Nature of Religion
For religious man, space is not homogeneous; he experiences interruptions, breaks in it; some parts of space are qualitatively different from others. "Draw not nigh hither," says the Lord to Moses; "put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground" (Exodus 3:5). There is, then, a sacred space, and hence a strong, significant space; there are other spaces that are not sacred and so are without structure or consistency, amorphous. Nor is this all. For religious man, this spatial non-homogeneity finds expression in the experience of an opposition between space that is sacred--the only real and real-ly existing space--and all other space, the formless expanse surrounding it.
(ח) וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃
(8) And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.
4. Rabbi Ovadia Sforno (1475-1550) - Italian rabbi, commentator, philosopher, and physician.
[The Torah] tells us the virtues of this Mishkan, by which reason it was worthy to be everlasting and not to fall into the hands of the enemy. First, because it was the "Tabernacle of Testimony," where the tablets of testimony were [deposited]; second, "as they were rendered according to the commandment of Moshe"; third, because it was through "the service of the Levites by the hand of Itamar,' for indeed the charge of all the parts of the Mishkan were in the hands of Itamar; fourth, "And Betzalel the son of Uri, the son of Chur, of the tribe of Yehuda made" - the leaders of the craftsmen of the Mishkan's work and its vessels were noblemen and the righteous ones of the generation, and therefore the Shekhina rested on the work of their hands, and it did not fall into the hands of their enemies. But the Temple of Shelomo [was built by] workers of the nations of the world, and although the Shekhina did rest there its sections deteriorated and it was necessary to repair the breaches of the house, and eventually it all fell into the hands of the enemy. But the second Temple, which did not meet even one of these conditions (and) the Shekhina did not come to rest in it at all, fell into the hand of the enemy for indeed the second Temple was not "the Mishkan of the testimony" since there were no tablets of testimony in it (at all) and it was Koresh who charged it (that it be built), and (also) there were no sons of Levi there, as Ezra attested when he said: "And I inspected the people and the priests but found there none of the sons of Levi" (Ezra 8:15(Ezra 8:15(Ezra 8:15), and among those who occupied themselves with the building were Tzidonites and Tzorites, as is explained in the book of Ezra (3:7) Ezra (3:7) Ezra (3:7). (Seforno, Commentary to Shemot 38:21-22 Shemot 38:21-22 Shemot 38:21-22)
[The Torah] tells us the virtues of this Mishkan, by which reason it was worthy to be everlasting and not to fall into the hands of the enemy. First, because it was the "Tabernacle of Testimony," where the tablets of testimony were [deposited]; second, "as they were rendered according to the commandment of Moshe"; third, because it was through "the service of the Levites by the hand of Itamar,' for indeed the charge of all the parts of the Mishkan were in the hands of Itamar; fourth, "And Betzalel the son of Uri, the son of Chur, of the tribe of Yehuda made" - the leaders of the craftsmen of the Mishkan's work and its vessels were noblemen and the righteous ones of the generation, and therefore the Shekhina rested on the work of their hands, and it did not fall into the hands of their enemies. But the Temple of Shelomo [was built by] workers of the nations of the world, and although the Shekhina did rest there its sections deteriorated and it was necessary to repair the breaches of the house, and eventually it all fell into the hands of the enemy. But the second Temple, which did not meet even one of these conditions (and) the Shekhina did not come to rest in it at all, fell into the hand of the enemy for indeed the second Temple was not "the Mishkan of the testimony" since there were no tablets of testimony in it (at all) and it was Koresh who charged it (that it be built), and (also) there were no sons of Levi there, as Ezra attested when he said: "And I inspected the people and the priests but found there none of the sons of Levi" (Ezra 8:15(Ezra 8:15(Ezra 8:15), and among those who occupied themselves with the building were Tzidonites and Tzorites, as is explained in the book of Ezra (3:7) Ezra (3:7) Ezra (3:7). (Seforno, Commentary to Shemot 38:21-22 Shemot 38:21-22 Shemot 38:21-22)
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION
1. With whom do you agree, Heschel or Eliade? Is Judaism a religion of time or space?
2. What are the implications of either answer, and what challenges come up?
3. Does sacred space exist? If so, what is your definition?
4. Is sacred space transferrable? Can we move the sacred from one place to another?
5. How does the sacred space of the Hebrew Bible differ from sacred space of Rabbinic Literature? What do we do with that shift?
1. With whom do you agree, Heschel or Eliade? Is Judaism a religion of time or space?
2. What are the implications of either answer, and what challenges come up?
3. Does sacred space exist? If so, what is your definition?
4. Is sacred space transferrable? Can we move the sacred from one place to another?
5. How does the sacred space of the Hebrew Bible differ from sacred space of Rabbinic Literature? What do we do with that shift?
(שמות כה, יא) מבית ומחוץ תצפנו אמר רבא כל תלמיד חכם שאין תוכו כברו אינו תלמיד חכם
The verse states concerning the Ark: “From within and from without you shall cover it” (Exodus 25:11). Rava said: Any Torah scholar whose inside is not like his outside is not a Torah scholar.
PRACTICAL QUESTIONS
1. If space is meant to help us understand time, then how do we go about creating sacred space?
2. Is space just about location? How else can we define / differentiate our physical world?
1. If space is meant to help us understand time, then how do we go about creating sacred space?
2. Is space just about location? How else can we define / differentiate our physical world?
MAKE A GAME PLAN
let's use this time to plan and prepare.
In a journal (or anywhere that you put down meaningful notes and plans of action) start creating your prayer space. Be sure to comment on the following, and feel free to add more to this checklist!
1. Where will I pray? Are there numerous spaces meant for different times? Is there a space for online services and another space for tech-free meditation?
2. What will I add to make my space reflect my spiritual needs? Flowers? Books? Should the space be clutter free or intentionally a little chaotic?
3. How will my space sound? Do I want absolute quiet? Or might I want the sound of the birds, cars going by, etc.?
4. How will my space smell? Does my prayer space need anything to help with this? Do I want fresh air? scented air?
5. What will I wear? Do I feel like I should wear what I normally would to Shul or does the change of prayer space lend itself to a different type of intentional attire?
6. What other spaces need their own intentionality? In Judaism, we learn that the dining room table becomes the new altar. Does my meal space look the way I want it? Any other rooms that need some thought?
let's use this time to plan and prepare.
In a journal (or anywhere that you put down meaningful notes and plans of action) start creating your prayer space. Be sure to comment on the following, and feel free to add more to this checklist!
1. Where will I pray? Are there numerous spaces meant for different times? Is there a space for online services and another space for tech-free meditation?
2. What will I add to make my space reflect my spiritual needs? Flowers? Books? Should the space be clutter free or intentionally a little chaotic?
3. How will my space sound? Do I want absolute quiet? Or might I want the sound of the birds, cars going by, etc.?
4. How will my space smell? Does my prayer space need anything to help with this? Do I want fresh air? scented air?
5. What will I wear? Do I feel like I should wear what I normally would to Shul or does the change of prayer space lend itself to a different type of intentional attire?
6. What other spaces need their own intentionality? In Judaism, we learn that the dining room table becomes the new altar. Does my meal space look the way I want it? Any other rooms that need some thought?