The Tzaddik Next Door
Do you want to share a sheep with me?
That is an actual question a great-great-great-etc.-ancestor might have asked a neighbor in Egypt, following the sage advice of Moses himself.
The Israelites are on the verge of freedom, and the very first Pesach (Passover) is about to happen. As you may recall, one of the gorier elements of the story involves the Israelites smearing blood on the doorposts of their houses so that God’s angel of destruction doesn’t slaughter their firstborn along with those of the Egyptians. That smeared blood comes from a lamb, and one of the less-remembered elements of the story is that each household is supposed to eat the entire lamb that night (Exodus 12:10). If any is left over they have to burn it, but Moses tells the people not to waste their sheep:
“But if the household (bayit) is too small for a lamb, let it share one with a neighbor who dwells nearby (sh’cheno ha-karov), in proportion to the number of persons: you shall contribute for the lamb according to what each household will eat” (Exodus 12:4).
On one level, this is purely pragmatic. Too much sheep for one family? Split it between two families!
On another level, this ritual has a side purpose - to build community. On an eerie night and on the precipice of the unknown, having an excuse to connect through sharing food (and purpose) will help the Israelites be courageous and committed to each other.
On yet a deeper level, the chassidic master Yisrael Hopstein, the Maggid of Kozhnitz, transforms the text into a spiritual lesson (I learned this from Rabbi Sam Feinsmith’s text study through the Institute for Jewish Spirituality. This is his translation):
“The [spiritual] intent of our verse: someone who is not on the level where they can draw holiness upon themselves, ‘Then he and his neighbor (sh’cheno)...shall take”, suggesting that we should attach ourselves (yitchaber) to the righteous. For [the word] neighbor (shachen) points to a righteous person, as it is written: “Better a close neighbor than a distant brother” (Proverbs 27:10). Here “neighbor” refers to the righteous individual because they are close to the blessed Creator and dwell (shochen) with God.”
There are two key ideas in the Maggid’s teaching.
First, sometimes we find that our bayit, our inner house / temple, is not large enough for a full metaphorical sheep (that is, to draw down holiness, which in turn means something like spiritual mastery). In other words, we are still spiritual seekers, growing and aspiring but not yet quite there yet.
This brings us to the Maggid’s second key idea. If you don’t have full mastery of your spiritual life, find someone closer to that goal than you. For the Maggid, that is the tzaddik (righteous person), who is like ashachen (neighbor, but also related to the word shechinah - Presence of God). They are fully at home with God and God’s presence dwells with them.
The tzaddik in chassidic thought and practice is a charismatic spiritual leader through whom the average Jew can connect to the divine, and who is able to see the proper path of spiritual growth for each person they encounter. How comforting in scary times to turn to the wise ones, to join ourselves to them and let them point out the best way to move forward!
And yet, how easy it is for abuse to happen within a hierarchical religious model like this. Or at the very least, some surrendering of self-direction to one person holding the keys to wisdom.
In a community like Kavana, I interpret the Maggid’s teaching more democratically, in keeping with our cooperative spirit. He uses the word “yitchaber” to mean “join to the tzaddik”, but you could read it as “befriend”, to become a chaver.
We come to community seeking spiritual friendship, where we can learn from those who have wisdom we don’t (yet) have, and offer our insights and gifts to others along the way as well. In this way we are all seekers, and we are all tzaddikim - perhaps of art or ethics, of community organizing or meditation, of pop culture or holding pain tenderly…
May you join yourselves in fruitful friendship to those you can learn from, and share generously from your own strengths and wisdom.
Shabbat shalom!
Rabbi Jay LeVine
