May it be the will before You, HaShem my G-d and the G-d of my forefathers to fill the flaw of the moon, that it not be diminished in any way. And may the light of the moon be like the light of the sun and like the light of the seven days of Creation as it was before its diminishment, as it is said: The two luminaries that are great. And may there be fulfilled in us the verse that is written: They shall seek HaShem their G-d and David their king. Amen. (Schottenstein Edition Siddur for Weekdays)
As I finished making Kiddush Levanah, for the very first time, on a most lovely summer’s night, I took a few minutes to stand quietly on my front porch and admire the sight of the waxing crescent moon. As my attention was turned toward the western sky, my head covered with a prayer veil, and my Siddur clutched against my chest, my daughter came out to the porch. “What are you doing?” she asked with a quizzical look. When I explained that I had just prayed a prayer for the sanctification of the moon she replied “Oh, so you’re talking to the moon now?” Taking off my head covering and putting my siddur aside, I sat down with her to talk.
As we swayed back and forth upon comfortable southern-style rocking chairs, I briefly explained Rosh Chodesh and the ensuing Talmudic tradition of sanctifying the moon (Kiddush Levanah). I shared with her the beauty of the waxing and waning moon and its unassuming yet consistent monthly testimony of renewal and rebirth and how such things allude to the Messianic Age and the resurrection from the dead in which all things will be renewed. I also related the fact that we as women are most privy to such monthly phenomenon through the monthly menstrual cycle. With a smile on her face she patted my hand and said “Mom, sometimes I wonder if you aren’t going a little bit crazy”.
Ironically, similar thoughts had entered my mind as I finished the final section of parashah Eikev this past week. In Deuteronomy 10 after relating how he had carved out and received a second set of tablets, and interceded on Israel’s behalf for HaShem’s mercy (due to the sin of the Golden Calf), Moses then admonishes the people in light of G-d’s reconciliation toward them;
Now, O Israel, what does HaShem, your G-d, ask of you? Only to fear HaShem, your G-d, to go in all His ways and to love Him, and to serve HaShem, your G-d, with all your heart and will all your soul. (Deuteronomy 10:12, Stone Chumash)
At face value this verse seems quite beautiful and inspiring. What a worthy goal Moses put forth for the Children of Israel. Yet, in this verse the Sages contemplate a problem, one which seems more than “a little bit crazy”. In Talmud, Berachot 33b, the Sages deduce (based on Deuteronomy 10:12) that “everything is in the hand of heaven but the fear of heaven”. “Fear” as used in 10:12 is the Hebrew word yir’ah (יִרְאָה), which can mean both “fear” and/or “awe” based on context. Yir’ah also describes various levels of fear that are often found in classic Mussar (Jewish ethical/character development) teachings. [1]
The lowest or most inferior level is called “yirat ha’onesh”; this is fear of G-d’s punishment for sin. The next level is “yirat chet” which simply means “fear of sin” and is understood to be a higher level in which one is actually repulsed by sin (not simply afraid of the punishment for it). The highest level of yir’ah is “yirat shamayim” or “fear of Heaven”, this is fear directly related to HaShem (referred to metaphorically as “Heaven”), and is best understood as “awe”. [2]
This highest level of fear is that spoken of in Deuteronomy 10:12 where yir’ah is directly related to יי (the Sacred Name/Tetragrammaton). Yet, in the plainest reading Moses is understood to be saying that Israel should “only” fear HaShem or “merely” fear Him, in a way that suggests this highest level of awe for the Almighty is easy or natural. How are we to understand this? Something that seems a “little bit crazy”, to say the least.
Several explanations are given in Rabbinic literature including that yirat shamayim was a “small thing” for Moses (the opinion of R. Hanina in Talmud) or that it was “easy” for the generation of Israel in the Wilderness as they daily experienced G-d’s supernatural presence (Kli Yakar). As for individuals today, such awe and fear of G-d is a difficult state to achieve.
Yet, in the book of Ecclesiastes, after considering the details and futility of life, the wise king Solomon concludes;
The sum of the matter, when all has been considered: Fear G-d and keep His commandments, for that is man’s whole duty. (12:13 Stone Tanach).
“Man’s whole duty” is also understood to speak of the “whole of man” (kol ha’adam). Many commentators (including Rashi, Rambam, and IbnEzra) insist from Ecclesiastes that yirat shamayim is nothing less than the very essence and purpose of a human being. The idea that “everything is in the hand of heaven except the fear of heaven” expresses this understanding. Because human beings have free will we are free to adopt pious or impious attitudes, to choose to be righteous or to be wicked.
Of all things that a person acquires during his life, G-d, so to speak, stores only one thing in His “treasury” – a person’s fear (awe) of Him. G-d isn’t impressed with wealth or career achievements or material accomplishments because none of those things are directly and independently man’s doing, for G-d alone gives each individual the ability and opportunities to succeed. There is only one area in which man has the completely free choice to accomplish and therefore be recognized by HaShem; in the matter of whether or not to fear Him. [3]
If yirat shamayim is truly man’s only independent and completely will-driven opportunity for accomplishment before G-d, why then is it understood as being very difficult to achieve? In the classic work God in Search of Man, Abraham Joshua Heschel spends an entire chapter considering the topic of “Awe”. Heschel summarizes the concept of awe as being “the sense of wonder and humility inspired by . . . the presence of mystery” [4] and also as; “an act of insight into a meaning greater than ourselves” [5] In Heschel’s view “awe precedes faith” and is the very “root of faith” making “awe” the most fitting definition of “religion” [6].
When facing mystery, man alone has the ability to contemplate and research in order to discover answers or meaning. The term “mystery” itself presupposes intellect and rationalization in order to recognize it as such. It is the glory of God to conceal a thing: but the honor of kings is to search out a matter (Proverbs 25:2, KJV).
In searching out answers and meaning there must yet remain the inspiration of recognizing something greater behind it all. When this greater meaning is not considered and awe is forfeited in human life, according to Heschel, the universe becomes nothing more than a “marketplace”. [7] Life becomes a commodity and the mysteries and wonders of the universe become little more than interesting “window dressing”. A general sense of wonderment or pleasure is experienced without any consideration of an infinitely grander scheme.
In a simplified sense “shopping” is easier than “thinking” and admiring is preferred over contemplating. Perhaps this is why yirat shemayim is both easy and difficult, why Moses described it as “merely” something to be done. For mankind has the ability and completely unhindered opportunity to choose regarding awe inspiring experiences of life, but yet the evil inclination will always draw us toward following the easiest path.
During the Shabbat prior to Rosh Chodesh (Head of the Month) the day and time of the upcoming new month is announced. This announcement is called molad or “birth”. Before announcing the molad a blessing of the new month (Birkat HaChodesh) is recited. In this blessing both yirat shamayim and yirat chet are referred to, as one prays that HaShem would grant us a life in which there is “fear of Heaven” and “fear of sin”. Yet, perhaps the most interesting aspect of the Birkat HaChodesh is the fact that yirat shamayim is referred to twice; once in the middle of the prayer and once toward its conclusion. In this way this prayer emphasizes the fear of Heaven more directly perhaps than any other prayer of the Siddur. Why is it that an awesome fear of Heaven is most closely related to the moon?
The topic of the moon is one that is filled with mystery in the mind of the Sages. In Talmud, Chullin 60b, a quandary is considered regarding the account of the moon’s creation in Genesis 1:16;
And G-d made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also. (Gen 1:16 KJV)
Although the verse begins by stating that two equally great lights were created, it then progresses to explain that one of the lights was greater than the other. The great one (sun) ruled by day and the lesser one (moon) ruled by night. This presents a mystery, for how and why was one of the great lights (the moon) diminished?
Through a series of midrashic stories regarding how the moon complained to HaShem about the inability for “two kings to share one crown” and was thereby commanded by G-d to decrease itself, the Sages explain that in this present created order two equally great lights cannot exist together. The monthly presentation of a sin offering “unto HaShem” on Rosh Chodesh (as given in Numbers 28:15) is understood to be speaking of a sin offering that is brought on behalf of G-d to atone for His commanding the moon to diminish.
Although this is a shocking conclusion, it is based on a Kabbalistic principle that “the final outcome was the original thought”. [8] That the original principles found in the creation account will be the final outcome of existence for the created universe. Because HaShem’s first thought was to cause the sun and moon to be “co-sovereigns” this original vision is destined to be the end of their shared journey. [9] In this way the monthly sin offering “for HaShem” atones for the diminishment of the moon.
In a passage listing the promised blessings of the Messianic Age Isaiah prophecies; the light of the moon will be as the light of the sun (Isaiah 30:26 KJV). The time is coming when the moon and sun will be co-sovereigns again. How this will play out and what it will look like specifically is a mystery. Yet, every month as the moon transitions from complete darkness to complete brightness the message of this mystery ushers forth again and again. At the first sliver of light the new month (Rosh Chodesh) is heralded and Kiddush Levanah (sanctification of the Moon) takes place when the moon is still waxing (growing bigger). How fitting to pray, as one witnesses the moon progressing in brightness, that HaShem will cause its light to equal that of the sun.
Perhaps the Birkat HaChodesh emphasizes twice the fear of Heaven (yirat shamayim) because the cycle of the moon presents us with two opportunities to stand in awe of a natural phenomenon that represents an infinitely grander scheme. As the absent moon begins to perceptibly shine once more (at the new month) the hope of renewal is realized. As the brightening moon is considered the reality of progressive and full renewal is witnessed. Both phenomenon inspire awe and give opportunity to contemplate a meaning greater than ourselves.
. . . . . .
As I took in the humorously sarcastic words of my young adult daughter in light of my explanations and insights regarding Rosh Chodesh and Kiddush Levanah, I found myself filled with patience and understanding. For when she was 18 years old and a freshman in college I began to keep Shabbat and study the “Hebraic roots” of the faith. During her upbringing in Evangelical churches and Christian schools, her mother had been a staunchly conservative Calvinist who taught a well-known local ladies Bible study. To watch my transformation into Torah observance has been little less than witnessing her mother become a Jewess. This transformation hasn’t been comfortable or easy and is often misunderstood. After five years reality is starting to sink in. This isn’t merely just a “fad” or “curiosity” for me. It is a lifestyle and a life-long pursuit.
So, what more could a young woman say to this, but jokingly wonder about her mother’s sanity? In response I asked my daughter to look at the moon. As we both gazed toward the west the sight was lovely, the moon being lightly enshrouded by wispy cirrus clouds that acted as a delicate transparent veil around it. “Isn’t it beautiful”? I questioned. When she answered “yes” I asked her “why”, “why do you think it is beautiful”? “I don’t know” she said “it just is”.
I then asked her to think about why the moon is considered inspirational and beautiful to people all over the world, all throughout the centuries. Why is it that the moon is considered romantic, that poems and songs have been written about it, that people feel drawn to admire it? “Because G-d created it, I suppose” was her answer. But G-d also created dirt and worms and many other things that people don’t admire or find inspirational, so what is so special about the moon? “I don’t know” she said, throwing up her hands. “Think about what I just told you, for there’s method to my madness” I answered with a wink.
Inevitably our conversation turned toward the happenings of daily life as we spent some time rocking and talking on the front porch on this warm June night. The moon which had been the center of attention was now relegated to the role of window dressing, at least for the time being, in the mind of my daughter. But who knows, perhaps happening upon her mother “talking to the moon” will cause her to consider a mystery in a way she never has before.
[1] Alan Morinis, Everyday Holiness, Trumpeter, Boston & London, 2007 p. 233
[2] Ibid.
[3] Rabbi Moshe Weissman, The Midrash Says (Devarim), Bnay Yakov, New York, 2005, pp. 138-139.
[4] Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 1976, p. 77.
[5] Ibid, p. 74.
[6] Ibid, p. 77.
[7] Ibid, p. 78.
[8] Sarah Schneider, Kabbalistic Writings on the Nature of Masculine and Feminine, A Still Small Voice, Jerusalem, 2007, p. 42.
[9] Ibid.
