Psalms of Kabbalat Shabbat
The most common thing I am told by congregants after services is consistently, “You look so happy.”
I find so much joy in Kabbalat Shabbat, not only in the act of singing and leading a congregation, but in the liturgy and all it represents. The Kabbalistic notion of the service is that each Psalm lifts us into a higher plane of being, eventually leading us to a place of holiness in which we are finally ready to receive Shabbat. Each Psalm takes us deeper into ourselves and, simultaneously, closer to the Palace in Time, the taste of the World to Come, God’s holy Shabbat.
These new liturgical poems represent my reactions to and reimaginings of the six Psalms that precede L’cha Dodi, leading us to a higher plane of understanding, both internally and externally — closer to God and to our Selves.
Psalm 95
A call to presence
Rabbi Hanina would wrap himself up
and stand at dusk on the evening of Shabbat and say
“Come and we will go
and we will welcome
Shabbat Hamalkah”¹
Standing facing west, toward the slowly setting sun
Hanina shivered and shook
but his chills were warmed by the corners of the garment²
Yet still he trembled in excitement
in fear
in anticipation
in awe³
Come out into this field and walk with me
or maybe talk with me
or sing with me
or just be here⁴
come into the field of God’s presence
crying out with blood⁵ and sweat and tears
nurtured by generations before us
who never saw the flowers bloom⁶
Wrap yourself in light or in a curtain’s shadow⁷
face the slowly setting sun
and come into God’s presence with songs of joy⁸
come into God’s presence with cries of pain
come into God’s presence with fanfare of the shofar
come into God’s presence with alarms of warning
come into God’s presence
come as you are
come in God’s eternally expanding image⁹
Psalm 96
A call to song
Take your breath, your God-given breath of life¹
the ancient breath that was breathed into your newborn lungs
and give it back to God
My breath fogs the glass before me
obscuring my view to the other side
like a child I run my finger across the window
and my breath becomes a canvas
Take your breath and share it with the world
for just as God breathed life into you
so do you have the power to breathe the world into life²
Glory and majesty are God’s³
with a hand mightier than any human power
an arm that stretches⁴ ten fingers beyond the bounds of creation⁵
I do not have nor could I conceive of God’s awesome form⁶
yet I am told I am made in God’s image⁷
I have been made a little less than divine
adorned with glory and majesty⁸
I am dust and ashes⁹
a child of Adam, a man of clay¹⁰
I am made of earth
but my breath is divine
I was given God’s breath
and with it
I bring God into the world
Psalm 97
A call to righteousness
A king sits on a throne on a high platform in a grand room in a guarded palace
A queen knows not her subjects, toiling below as she lounges above
A prince frolics and dawdles, blissfully unaware
A princess is beloved, but only from afar
Am I the peasant in the field? The nobleman? The merchant? The royal vizier?
Am I at God’s right hand?¹ Am even in God’s realm?
The Eternal is in this place and I
I did not know it²
But I know now
God is not beyond the sea but very close to me³
In my hands, between my eyes⁴
We do justice, we love mercy, we walk humbly with God⁵
Humble, yet side by side, walking through creation⁶
We reform iniquity, we scorn malevolence
We cannot imagine a world without the Presence of God watching over us
Psalm 98
A call to noise
The thunder of Sinai¹
The trumpets of Jericho²
The rush of the waters
The crash of the heavens
The prayer of the heart³
The whimpers of Hannah⁴
The dripping of anointing oil
The still small voice⁵
All these things, great and small
Fill the chaotic void⁶
Speaking into being⁷
When I sing
When I shout
When I whisper
I am God’s instrument in creation
Psalm 99
A call to majesty
We are a kingdom of priests and a holy nation¹
We are kingdom without a king
A priesthood without priests
A holy nation that all too often slips into profanity
But when we set God as our Sovereign
And we anoint ourselves as priests
We find the sacred within
Consecrate yourself in righteousness
And in justice
And in love
And in mercy
Anoint yourself in faithfulness
And you will know true majesty²
Psalm 29
A call to strength
There once was a stick, long dead and dried
I planted it in the ground along with those of the brothers
Their sticks fell but mine stood tall
And upon it grew an almond blossom
Delicate, beautiful, and fragrant¹
My voice is drowned out by thunder
My breath cannot outlast a flood
My arms are no match for the cedars of Lebanon
My legs fail in pursuit of oxen²
My family, my friends: hold up my arms³
My partner, my ally: strengthen my steps⁴
If you are strong
And I am strong
We will strengthen one another⁵
I take up the staff in my hand
And with it
I will be a vessel of God’s signs and wonders⁶
Notes
A call to presence
This stanza paraphrases Bavli, Shabbat 119a.
“The corners of his garment” is an allusion to Ruth 3:9 and Ezekiel 16:8. At this point in the Ruth narrative, Naomi and Ruth know that Ruth marrying Boaz would present their best chance for security, so Ruth goes to him. When Boaz is asleep, she lays down at his feet. When he wakes up, she says, “I am Ruth, your handmaid; spread out the corner of your garment over your handmaid, for you are a redeemer.” The word for the corner of the garment here is kh’nafecha, which can also mean “your wings.” This might be connected to the Hashkiveinu prayer — uv’tzeil k’nafecha tastireinu, “shelter us in the shadow of Your wings.” Even more poignantly, Ezekiel chapter 16 verse 8 quotes God saying, “I passed over you, and I looked at you, and, behold, your time was a time of love, I spread the corner of my garment over you, and I covered your nakedness. I swore to you and entered a covenant with you... you became Mine.” Through the words efros k’nafei alayich, “I spread the corner of my garment over you,” Ruth echoes this text from Ezekiel, connecting Ruth’s seduction of Boaz to God’s covenantal redemption of Israel.
Rudolf Otto, a German theologian, wrote that we experience God as “Mysterium tremendum et fascinans.” Most simply, God is the ultimate enigma before whom we tremble in awe, yet with whom we find ourselves naturally drawn into relationship. The experience of the Divine is so impactful, so wholly-other, that it provokes a physiological response. We stand before this mystery and experience something entirely different from anything else.
Genesis 24:63 contains my favorite hapax legomenon, lasuach. With ambiguous context and a lack of other examples, commentators across time have spent much time and ink delving into the simple word, usually connecting it to the idea of conversing. Is it meditation? Prayer? Something else? How is Isaac relating to God in this moment? How do we follow in his footsteps to find our own particular (if ambiguous) way?
A reference to Genesis 4:10, wherein the blood of Abel calls out from the earth.
A reference to the story of Honi the Circle Maker and the carob tree, found in Taanit 23a. The story goes that Honi was journeying on the road and he saw a man planting a carob tree. He asked, "How long does it take [for this tree] to bear fruit?" The man replied: "Seventy years." Honi further asked, "Are you certain that you will live another seventy years?" The man replied: "I found [already grown] carob trees in the world; as my forefathers planted those for me so I too plant these for my children.” This, to me, is the true and positive essence of the intergenerational nature of consequence: we benefit (and suffer) from the actions of our ancestors and are responsible for the generations that will follow.
Psalms 104:2 reads, “[You are] wrapped in a robe of light; You spread the heavens like a curtain.” These words (along with those of the preceding verse) are traditionally said before putting on a tallit. Though the psalm is speaking of God wearing the garment of light, we instead imagine that we are enrobed in light as God is — we become divine for the purpose of prayer.
Psalms 95:2
A reference to humankind’s creation in God’s image, per Genesis 1:26-27.
A call to song
God animates the clay figure — Adam — by blowing air into his nostrils in Genesis 2:7. In his commentary on Genesis 1:26, Nachmanides disagrees with previous assertions that God is speaking to the angels, contending that God is instead speaking with the earth “When God gave the waters the power of bringing forth a living soul, the command concerning them was ‘let the waters swarm.’ The command concerning cattle was ‘let the earth bring forth.’ But in the case of man He said ‘let us make,’ that is, I and the aforementioned earth, let Us make man.” The Ramban bolsters his argument by adding that when God says “in our image, and after our likeness,” He is referring to the physical qualities given from the earth and the spiritual given by God with the “breath of life.” In Psalms 8:6 it is written, “You have made him little less than divine, and adorned him with glory and majesty.” Nachmanides theorizes that humankind is in the likeness of the earth physically — having been formed of clay — but of God in glory and majesty.
In many medieval commentaries on the B’tzelem Elohim concept, one common thread stands out: the commentators’ overwhelming confidence in the ability of humankind. Be it Rashi, claiming that “in our likeness” refers to the human ability to understand and discern, Nachmanides, quoting Psalms 8:6, “You have made him a little less than divine, and adorned him with glory and majesty,” or Maimonides, who wrote, “on account of the divine intellect with which man has been endowed, he is said to have been made in the form and likeness of the Almighty,” each of the presented scholars agree on mankind’s potential. In this way, “b’tzelem Elohim” is a call to action: as not only God’s helper, but as the only piece of creation with a God-like essence, we are called to fulfill our potential.
A reference to Psalms 96:6.
The idea of God’s “mighty hand and outstretched arm” as a catalyst of redemption is common throughout Tanakh, found in reference to the Exodus from Egypt in Exodus 6:6; Deuteronomy 4:34, 5:15, 7:19, 9:29, 11:2, and 26:8; and Psalms 136:12; and in reference to other examples of God’s power in II Kings 17:36; Jeremiah 21:5, 27:5, and 32:17; Ezekiel 20:33-34; and II Chronicles 6:32. God as a mighty redeemer is a powerful biblical image, and certainly presents a hopeful theology, but it is also difficult, especially in the post-Shoah era — if God is in fact a mighty redeemer, where has God been for the last 2000 years?
This is actually a reference to the Rig Veda, but it is still a powerful — and I would argue, deeply Jewish — image. The idea is that the universe is contained within God’s Presence with God extending beyond the bounds of the universe. In the words of Rashi, commenting on Exodus 33:21, "God is the place of the universe, but God’s universe is not God’s place.”
In several instances within Rabbinic Literature — eg. Berakhot 31a, Keritot 11a, Sanhedrin 90b, etc. — we find the words, “The Torah speaks in the language of humankind.” That is to say, there is far more than humankind could understand and the Torah is written to be understood. We glean from this idea that though God’s physical form is described in different ways in different places across our sacred texts, we cannot understand these descriptions as literal. In order for us to understand God, we must assign God traits of which we can conceive, even if we know these traits are only metaphorical.
A reference to Genesis 1:26.
Psalms 8:6
In Genesis 18:27, Abraham exclaims, “Behold — I have decided to speak to my Lord, I who am but dust and ashes.” In this verse, Abraham models both the humility and bravery needed to approach God.
10. God creates humankind (for the second time) in Genesis 2:7, forming Adam (coming from the word adamah, earth) out of dirt or clay. This is another example of humankind’s need for humility, that we are made of earth.
A call to righteousness
In I Kings 22:19, Micah explains a vision he had to Ahab saying, “I saw the Eternal sitting upon God’s throne, and all the host of heaven stood by on God’s right and God’s left.” This is one of many visions of God as king in a heavenly court. In Psalms 110:1, God says, “Sit by my right hand, while I make of your enemies a rest for your feet.” In either case, being at God’s right hand is a place of honor, trust, and protection.
This is a quote from Genesis 28:16. Jacob wakes up from his vision of the ladder to heaven with angels ascending and descending and remarks that this is a house of God, a gateway to heaven. We can find God in unlikely places, often when we least expect it.
Deuteronomy 30:12-14 reads, “It is not in the heavens that you should say, ‘Who among us could go up to the heavens and take it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?’ Nor is it beyond the sea that you should say, ‘Who among us could cross to the other side of the sea and take it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?’ Indeed, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart to observe it.”
A reference to Deuteronomy 6:8 — “You shall bind them for a sign upon your hands; they shall be a symbol between your eyes.” For both this reference and the lines preceding (see note 3), God is conflated with the mitzvot. This is a mildly Christian understanding, found in the Gospel of John — “and the word was God” (John 1:1). Putting aside John’s deep antisemitism, this theological framework does exist within Jewish thought, as in the use of “Emet” as a Divine Name (eg. Yoma 69b).
A reference to Micah 6:8 in which Micah states that God’s only commandments are “to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”
In Genesis 3:8, the humans hear God walking in the Garden. This is a highly problematic verse for commentators who attempt to mitigate examples of anthropomorphism in the text. It suggests that, in Paradise (ie The World to Come), humankind existed/will exist on the same plane as God. In other words, our ultimate and ideal place is physically with God.
A call to noise
In Exodus 19:16 and Psalms 77:18, thunder is portrayed as the voice of God, particularly on Mount Sinai. Thunder is the prototypical “boom” from heaven, clearly shouting out from a non-human voice. From this, we understand that the natural world is — or is at least affected by — God.
In Joshua 6:8-10, the priests subdue Jericho by blowing trumpets — literally, shofarot. Here we understand that noise, though intangible, can affect the physical world.
In her famous poem “Eili Eili,” Hannah Szenes prays for the sounds of the natural world, portraying them as important or even holy.
In I Samuel 1:13, Hannah prays for a son, but does so under her breath, so imperceptibly that Eli assumed her to be drunk. Even though her prayer is all-but-silent, God both hears and answers.
I Kings 19:12
In Genesis 1:2, we read that the universe was “chaos and void.” From this we learn that God is that which puts the world in order. Without God, our lives would be chaotic and purposeless.
God creates by speaking throughout the Genesis. Much the same as the manner in which human beings affect the world through sound in Joshua 6 (see note 2), God literally speaks the world into being. Creation by speech should be the ultimate call to realize that our words ultimately affect the world as much as if not more than any physical action. The old “sticks and stones” parable holds no water.
A call to majesty
Exodus 19:6
Hosea 2:21-22
A call to strength
In Numbers 17:16-26, a test is created to decide who should lead the Israelite cult. Each tribe is instructed to plant their staff in the ground. The staff of Levi miraculously sprouts an almond blossom, indicating that they are the Divinely ordained leaders. It should also be noted that almond blossoms were present at Beit El, the place where Jacob had his vision of the ladder, identified with Mount Moriah (of the Akeidah) and, later, the Temple Mount.
Psalms 29:5-6
In the story surrounding Exodus 17:12, the Israelites find themselves in battle against the Amalekites. The Israelites, led by Joshua, prevail over their enemy as long as Moses keeps his arms raised. Obviously, his arms get tired, so Aaron and Hur literally hold up his arms. In this way, we learn that no one person can be the vessel of miracles alone.
In Birkot Hashachar, we recite, “Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech haolam, hameichin mitzadei gaver” — blessed are You Adonai our God Sovereign of the universe, who strengthens our steps. God may not give us physical strength, but we remind ourselves daily that God gives us the strength to move forward on our journeys.
Upon completing the reading of a book of Torah we recite, “Chazak chazak v’nitchazeik” — be strong, be strong, and we will be strengthened. We find strength when we are strong and when those around us give us strength (see also notes 3 and 4).
In Exodus 4:17, God commands Moses, “Take up this staff in your hand, and with it, you shall perform the signs.” Through the conduit of Moses’s staff, he is able to be the vessel for God’s miracles.