Kabbalah and Closeness: The Importance of Being Nearby

When I was in Israel recently with a cohort of rabbis, Dror Eshed, husband of Professor Melila Hellner-Eshed, died following a long illness.  I had never met him, though I have gotten to know his wife as one of our teachers, a passionate, brilliant expositor of Kabbalah.   At his funeral, she shared an insight that I want to bring to our congregation.

The Jewish mystical tradition maintains the notion that God’s energy and presence somehow flow into the world as a kind of emanation, the word for which is atzilut.  Dr. Hellner-Eshed pointed out that the Hebrew word contains the same root as the word etzel which means “next to” or “near.”  Some people, she said, associate spirituality with things that are remote and esoteric, thinking of it as a hidden force that we wait for to appear and flow into us.  But maybe the essence of spirituality, she suggested, is that it is near us and that often it flows from us, not just to us.  

She went on to describe how her husband inspired people by being near them and often by inviting them in.  He was an artist who had a studio near Jerusalem.  Frequently he worked with young people who came from disadvantaged homes, giving them opportunities to work in his studio and to gain the confidence that they had lacked.  Dror, she told us, brought atzilut to people because he was etzel, accessible, near them.

Recently we read in the Torah about God’s revelation to the children of Israel at Sinai.  It was an awesome moment, filled with mystery and grandeur.  Previously, we read about how the Israelites gained favor in the eyes of the Egyptians who provided them with garments and utensils as they prepared to leave.  Esoteric and mundane, far and near, are equally on display in our tradition.

Curiously, though, when the sage Hillel was asked to summarize the Torah, he opted to keep it close.  “Whatever is hateful to you, don’t do to others,” he said.  “The rest is commentary.  Go learn it.”  Hillel sensed, I imagine, that things will rise or fall based on what we do or don’t do to those nearby.

We just finished celebrating the holiday of Purim.  In the rather humanistic tale we read each year, we see that a key chapter in the story of the mighty Persian Empire was guided by the actions of a few people, some quite mighty, some not so different from you and me, in close proximity to one another. 

In our community we pray, learn and socialize together.  Often we try to access that which can seem remote and difficult to attain.  Perhaps we should try at least as hard to find what we need from those who are right nearby. 

We don’t have to be seasoned Kabbalists; we just have to open our hearts.  To give and receive atzilut, we need to be etzel.  Thankfully our sacred community gives us the space and the time to be near one another.   I hope we will continue to make ample use of this gift.