Introduction
If the Jewish Festival year is a circle, the High Holy Days are directly across from Passover. Where Passover is our celebration of collective redemption from the slavery of Egypt, in complementary contrast, the High Holy Days are a time for inner growth and individual redemption.
Teshuva, from the Hebrew root "to return," is the process of spiritual stock-taking that we use to prepare for the holiest days of our year. We make amends to other people and to God for the ways we've missed the mark in the past year - we "return" to our best selves by first listening inwards and then taking actions to adjust our lives accordingly.
The space that we turn to do our teshuva work is inside - to our "inner wilderness."
PART 1 - Language Emerging from the Wilderness
TEXT 1 - Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, Bewilderments, 2015
(xi) [As the Israelites journey] between Egypt and the [Promised] Land, the wilderness intervenes... [This time in the wilderness makes up the book of Numbers.]
The Hebrew name for the book of Numbers is Sefer BaMidbar, the "Book of In-the-Wilderness." ... It evokes not only geographical terrain, but also an inner landscape, an "inscape," as it were - a world of imaginative being.
...(3)Two Perspectives:
The book of Numbers is the narrative of a great failure. That is, at least, one view of the book. What should have been a brief journey from Mount Sinai to the Holy Land becomes a forty-year death march...
In direct contrast to this narrative is the narrative found in mystical Hasidic sources. Here, the generation of the wilderness emerges as the generation of extraordinary spiritual experience, receivers of the Torah to the fullest extent, fed on miracles and nurtured directly by God...
QUESTIONS
- Looking at Zornberg's "Two Perspectives," how does the power of narrative impact our objective experience of being "in the wilderness"?
- Why might we shy away from doing teshuva?
- What do we stand to gain by braving the elements of our internal "wilderness"?
TEXT 2 - Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, Bewilderments, 2015
(8) Dibbur ba midbar - language in the wilderness: the paradox resonates strangely. The Sages go as far as to suggest that, in some sense, the two - language and wilderness- are one: Ein dibbur ella midbar.
The proof text is from Song of Songs: "Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your mouth [mibarech] is lovely" (4:3). In context, midbarch obviously refers to a speaking mouth, but the midrashic genius senses the possibilities of the wordplay: "Your wilderness is lovely." ...
...Some essential link exists between this void place and the genius of language; here, God spoke to human beings and was acknowledged by them... But how are we to understand such a meeting of words and knowledge in a world of absence? The the wilderness bewilders; it undermines the very ability to speak, to know one's own experience...
...The midbar is a starting place: out of it, language may emerge.
PART 2 - Silence and Speech: A Time for Everything
TEXT 3 - TaNaKh (Torah, Nevi'im, K'tuvim / Torah, Prophets, Writings)
(1) A season is set for everything, a time for every experience under heaven: (2) A time for being born and a time for dying, A time for planting and a time for uprooting the planted... ... (6) A time for seeking and a time for losing, ...(7) A time for silence and a time for speaking...
QUESTIONS
- What is the time for silence?
- What is the time for speech?
- How are they related?
When God began to create heaven and earth— the earth being unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep and a wind from God sweeping over the water— God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, a first day.
Notice how both silence (in pink) and speech (green) are crucial tools in God's creative process.
TEXT 4 - TaNaKh (Torah, Nevi'im, K'tuvim / Torah, Prophets, Writings)
(ט) וַיָּבֹא־שָׁ֥ם אֶל־הַמְּעָרָ֖ה וַיָּ֣לֶן שָׁ֑ם וְהִנֵּ֤ה דְבַר־יְהֹוָה֙ אֵלָ֔יו וַיֹּ֣אמֶר ל֔וֹ מַה־לְּךָ֥ פֹ֖ה אֵלִיָּֽהוּ׃ (י) וַיֹּ֩אמֶר֩ קַנֹּ֨א קִנֵּ֜אתִי לַיהֹוָ֣ה ׀ אֱלֹהֵ֣י צְבָא֗וֹת כִּֽי־עָזְב֤וּ בְרִֽיתְךָ֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אֶת־מִזְבְּחֹתֶ֣יךָ הָרָ֔סוּ וְאֶת־נְבִיאֶ֖יךָ הָרְג֣וּ בֶחָ֑רֶב וָאִוָּתֵ֤ר אֲנִי֙ לְבַדִּ֔י וַיְבַקְשׁ֥וּ אֶת־נַפְשִׁ֖י לְקַחְתָּֽהּ׃ (יא) וַיֹּ֗אמֶר צֵ֣א וְעָמַדְתָּ֣ בָהָר֮ לִפְנֵ֣י יְהֹוָה֒ וְהִנֵּ֧ה יְהֹוָ֣ה עֹבֵ֗ר וְר֣וּחַ גְּדוֹלָ֡ה וְחָזָ֞ק מְפָרֵק֩ הָרִ֨ים וּמְשַׁבֵּ֤ר סְלָעִים֙ לִפְנֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֔ה לֹ֥א בָר֖וּחַ יְהֹוָ֑ה וְאַחַ֤ר הָר֙וּחַ֙ רַ֔עַשׁ לֹ֥א בָרַ֖עַשׁ יְהֹוָֽה׃ (יב) וְאַחַ֤ר הָרַ֙עַשׁ֙ אֵ֔שׁ לֹ֥א בָאֵ֖שׁ יְהֹוָ֑ה וְאַחַ֣ר הָאֵ֔שׁ ק֖וֹל דְּמָמָ֥ה דַקָּֽה׃
(יב) וְאַחַ֤ר הָרַ֙עַשׁ֙ אֵ֔שׁ לֹ֥א בָאֵ֖שׁ יְהֹוָ֑ה וְאַחַ֣ר הָאֵ֔שׁ ק֖וֹל דְּמָמָ֥ה דַקָּֽה׃ (יג) וַיְהִ֣י ׀ כִּשְׁמֹ֣עַ אֵלִיָּ֗הוּ וַיָּ֤לֶט פָּנָיו֙ בְּאַדַּרְתּ֔וֹ וַיֵּצֵ֕א וַֽיַּעֲמֹ֖ד פֶּ֣תַח הַמְּעָרָ֑ה וְהִנֵּ֤ה אֵלָיו֙ ק֔וֹל וַיֹּ֕אמֶר מַה־לְּךָ֥ פֹ֖ה אֵֽלִיָּֽהוּ׃ (יד) וַיֹּ֩אמֶר֩ קַנֹּ֨א קִנֵּ֜אתִי לַיהֹוָ֣ה ׀ אֱלֹהֵ֣י צְבָא֗וֹת כִּֽי־עָזְב֤וּ בְרִֽיתְךָ֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אֶת־מִזְבְּחֹתֶ֣יךָ הָרָ֔סוּ וְאֶת־נְבִיאֶ֖יךָ הָרְג֣וּ בֶחָ֑רֶב וָאִוָּתֵ֤ר אֲנִי֙ לְבַדִּ֔י וַיְבַקְשׁ֥וּ אֶת־נַפְשִׁ֖י לְקַחְתָּֽהּ׃ {ס} (טו) וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יְהֹוָה֙ אֵלָ֔יו לֵ֛ךְ שׁ֥וּב לְדַרְכְּךָ֖ ...
(9) There he went into a cave, and there he spent the night. Then the word of the LORD came to him. He said to him, “Why are you here, Elijah?”
(10) He replied, “I am moved by zeal for the LORD, the God of Hosts, for the Israelites have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and put Your prophets to the sword. I alone am left, and they are out to take my life.”
(11) “Come out,” He called, “and stand on the mountain before the LORD.” And lo, the LORD passed by. There was a great and mighty wind, splitting mountains and shattering rocks by the power of the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind—an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake. (12) After the earthquake—fire; but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire—a soft murmuring sound [/a still small voice].
(13) When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his mantle about his face and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then a voice addressed him: “Why are you here, Elijah?”
(14) He answered, “I am moved by zeal for the LORD, the God of Hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and have put Your prophets to the sword. I alone am left, and they are out to take my life.”
(15) The LORD said to him, “Go back by the way you came..."
The Time for Silence: To Hear God You Need a Listening Soul
TEXT 6 - Contemporary Commentary: Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, 2016
The desert is a place of silence... To be sure, when the Israelites received the Torah [in the desert at Mt. Sinai], there was thunder and lightning and the sound of a shofar. The earth felt as if it were shaking at its foundations. But in a later age, when the prophet Elijah stood at the same mountain ...he encountered G‑d not in the whirlwind or the fire or the earthquake but in the kol demamah dakah, the still, small voice, literally “the sound of a slender silence.” I define this as the sound you can hear only if you are listening. In the silence of the midbar, the desert, you can hear the Medaber, the Speaker, and the medubar, that which is spoken. To hear the voice of G‑d, you need a listening silence in the soul.
...The silence that counts, in Judaism, is thus a listening silence—and listening is the supreme religious art. Listening means making space for others to speak and be heard.
...There is the voice of history that was heard by the prophets. And there is the commanding voice of Sinai, that continues to speak to us across the abyss of time. I sometimes think that people in the modern age ... have lost the habit of listening to the sound of transcendence, a voice beyond the merely human.
From the full article: https://www.chabad.org/parshah/article_cdo/aid/3328781/jewish/The-Sound-of-Silence.htm