Hallelujah
My teacher Rabbi Hanan Sills considered himself to be a teacher of Jewishing. He was suspicious of -isms, which he believed created needless division, and saw religious labels as constrictive overcoats. To Rabbi Hanan, Jewishing was a way of being in the world—a verb, not a thing—and a tool, to be offered but never forced. Jewishing is the art of living in this present world while also shaping the world yet to be. And it is the practice of bringing our values to life moment by moment.
I recently read an article about the last two Shakers left in the world. The author wrote about how the Shakers believe that every detail of their environment should be fashioned to reflect the divine. When the author told a friend that she was writing about the Shakers, the friend replied, “Oh, aren’t the Shakers those furniture Christians?” In the same way, I like to think of myself as a member of a group that believes that our choices today can influence the shape of tomorrow.
In our materialist world the question of ‘what is real?’ has been answered. Things are real. But in other times people have understood that what matters is not so much things but how things are ordered. They saw this order as coming ultimately from the divine, through the rulers and on down. The word real is related to the word royal. In other words what was real depended on the royal.
Now that the kings and queens are gone, the royal has been replaced by our values, literally how much value we put on things. To the Shakers, the esthetic quality of a chair is more substantial than the wood itself. Similarly, from a Jewishing perspective, what is real is the interconnectedness of things including the relationships between people. This valuation is the true substance in which change is possible and future transformation happens.
Humility and Transformation
If we are to take this task seriously, we must humble ourselves. Obstacles block the path of transformation. Getting stuck and taking wrong turns is inevitable. We often can’t even see our own faults and weaknesses. Even if we get ourselves free, we are unable to see the best path forward. The truth is we have not been properly prepared by nature or experience to master the task of being agents of good in the world, of being co-creators. Fortunately, in the art of valuation, our tradition gives us a few clues to guide our way. Positive change generally involves at least some of the following elements.
- Tsadakah - Just action,
- Chesed – loving kindness,
- Shalom - Peace and harmony,
- Chakma – wisdom,
- Emet -The whole Truth,
- Torah – divine revelation
The Prince Who Became a Turkey
Rabbi Nachman often shared his wisdom through stories. One of his favorites was The Prince Who Became a Turkey.
Long ago, in a distant kingdom, a prince looking out the window saw a turkey in the courtyard. After watching it for some time, he began to feel that he too was a turkey. He removed his clothes and squatted under the great dining table, pecking food scraps off the floor. For days, he refused to move or dress. The king summoned powerful priests and learned healers, but their prayers and potions failed.
Finally, a great sage arrived. After observing the situation, he undressed. Joined the prince under the table, he began to mirror his “turkey” movements. The sage spoke, "You know, I too am a turkey." They remained there for hours, just being turkeys. Then the sage turned to the prince and said, "You know, turkeys can also wear shirts," and put on his shirt. Soon, the prince followed suit. "You know, turkeys can also sit at the table and eat with a fork and knife." Eventually, they were both sitting at the table and enjoying a meal. Even though deep down the prince always knew he was indeed a turkey, in time, the prince became a great, wise, and beloved king.
Rabbi Nachman's story tells us that although we must begin by accepting who we are, we must rise above our current state to become who we are meant to be.
David's Journey
David was a flawed man with a traumatic childhood: He was born of a suspected adulterer, treated as an outsider by his family, and assigned hazardous work shepherding among bears and lions. He felt lonely and rejected. Perhaps, this trauma contributed to some of his poor decisions later—most famously his seduction (or maybe it was rape?) of a married man's wife; and worse, sending that man to certain death in war.
Is it possible to get beyond trauma and tragic missteps? How can one prevent anger, guilt, and sadness from overshadowing our lives? Our tradition offers a route called Teshuvah. It is a process of evolution and healing that has no good translation.
Understanding Teshuvah
The word ‘Teshuvah’ is connected to the word meaning return. But it does not mean going back to a particular time or place. Rather it signifies returning to a state of authenticity—a state where we feel safe and comfortable; where we can be vulnerable and let go of adaptations and survival mechanisms that can get us stuck in patterns of behavior that may involve self-deception and self-judgment. In letting go of shame and blame we reconnect with underlying feelings. Our grief can focus our intent, sadness can become resolve, and pain can become action.
But ‘returning’ is just the beginning; Teshuvah is also ‘turning.’ If ego adaptations represent turning away from the divine, Teshuvah signifies turning toward the holy, or if you prefer toward possibility, potential, or our higher calling. The only name God uses to self-refer in the Torah is Asher Ehyeh Asher, or as Rabbi Hanan translated it, I am that I am, that I was, and that I will be in my becoming. It is this Asher Ehyeh Asher toward which we turn.
Hallelujah, more than just a concept is a pointer towards this internal gesture of turning. Litterally, it means ‘praise God’. Of course, God isn’t a being that wants or needs praising. Rather this turning is a self-affirmation of our vast potential future. It is the faith that whatever suffering we have been through something good can come. "Hallelujah" reminds us that although we have suffered, we can be thankful for every event that has brought us to this moment; grateful for all experiences gained along our journey. In every moment we face this choice: Do we damn ourselves or bless ourselves? Do we curse or praise God? There is no middle ground—It’s one or the other, “Damn it” or “Hallelujah”.
Teshuvah is indeed a two-way process; yes—it’s turning toward the Universe—but in doing so, the Universe turns back toward us. In practical terms, failure acknowledged leads to personal growth and deeper relationships with divinity. We learn lessons that build resilience while deepening our understanding of purpose.
Teshuvah reconnects us with wholeness, whereby everything we think or do creates useful feedback. Channels of communication open up. Wisdom may come externally through sages that come into our lives; in whatever form they appear. The universe may send us messages through our unconscious, whether it be by dreams, body sensations, or synchronicities—meaningful moments of recognition in daily life. And occasionally some of us may receive a more direct communication ‘the still small voice within’. In short, in Praising Yah, we bless ourselves.
David's Journey of Teshuvah
David’s life exemplifies this mutual turning. While difficulties shaped his life and the consequences of his mistakes reverberated throughout his life—he would not be defined by his past. Through Teshuvah, his challenges became his strengths. David forged a relationship with the Eternal One that made him an effective leader who unified twelve arguing tribes into one people—paving the way to forming their spiritual center, Yerushalayim. He also became a channel of some of the greatest poetry of the ages, the Psalms.
Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah"
"When one looks at the world, there's only one thing to say, and it's hallelujah." - Leonard Cohen -
David’s life has also served as an inspiration for others. Leonard Cohen used David’s life to give himself permission to embrace his own failings, suffering, disappointment—and sometimes despair. His song invites us all to acknowledge personal pain without being trapped by past choices.
People debate why it took Cohen seven years to write "Hallelujah." As he put so many of his own intense feelings into the song the word Hallelujah kept returning to him. He wrestled with this word for years before he was able to fully understand that more than just a religious word, it encompassed the whole range of human experience. "There is a religious hallelujah, but there are many other ones. When one looks at the world, there's only one thing to say, and it's hallelujah." This perspective allowed him to use the word to express joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Hallelujah became the secret chord that rises above the suffering and surrounds our lives with meaning.
Conclusion
As we stand at the threshold of a new year, let us embrace the spirit of Teshuvah and the power of "Hallelujah." Like David, we all have flaws and face challenges, but we also possess the capacity for growth and transformation. Our journey of Jewishing is not about perfection, but about continually turning towards our better selves and our divine potential. As we move forward, let us remember that every moment offers a choice – to curse our circumstances or to praise the possibilities that lie ahead. May we have the courage to accept ourselves as we are, the wisdom to see beyond our current limitations, and the strength to turn toward a future of hope and renewal. In the coming year, may we all find our own "Hallelujah" moments, transforming our struggles into growth, our pain into purpose, and our lives into a living testament of faith and resilience. Shanah Tovah.
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