CHAPTER 8
Philosophers and Sufis
Jews in the world of Islam
THE MAIN FOCUS OF THE MYSTICS of the pre-Muslim period was the
exploration of the mysteries of the creation and the nature of God,
through the use of various meditation techniques including the inner
journey on the merkavah. On the exoteric level, this same
spiritual-religious leadership continued developing the legal and
religious code by which to guide and define the community in both
Palestine and the diaspora. This work was continued under the
geonim (sages), the officially appointed leaders of the Jewish
community in Persian-ruled Babylonia from the sixth to eleventh
centuries. It is they who preserved many of the heikhalot and merkavah
texts.
Mostly the geonim were a conservative influence, bent on the establishment of talmudic law. However, there were some who also provided a more spiritual form of leadership, particularly men like Saadia Gaon in the tenth century. Born at the end of the ninth century in Egypt, Saadia moved to Babylonia in 922 and a few years later became head of the academy at Sura. He wrote an illuminating commentary on the mystical Sefer yetsirah as well as many books on Hebrew grammar, Jewish law, the calendar, the liturgy, and philosophy. As he was primarily a philosopher, perhaps Saadia did not teach a purely mystic path to God-realization; however, his work provided the vocabulary and intellectual context for Jews to interact with the Muslim world and come in touch with its philosophers and mystics.
Mystically inclined Jews found kindred spirits in the Muslim Sufi mystics among whom they lived. There was a long history of mutual influences between Jewish and Muslim Sufis from the beginnings of Islam through the end of the Islamic empire in the fifteenth century. Paul Fenton is a contemporary scholar of Jewish Sufism who has translated Jewish Sufi texts. He summarizes the earliest periods:
Historically, it was Judaism, through the edifying legends of the rabbis that circulated in the Islamic world under the name of Isra’iliyyat, that first influenced the ascetic trends in Sufism in its formative years.… [Later,] Jews were to be found attending the lectures of early masters of Baghdad, and the eleventh century historiographers of Sufism have conserved stories about the miraculous conversion of Jews to Islam through contact with Islamic mystics.… Traces of Muslim ideas on the vanity of the nether-world and the felicity of the hereafter, gained through ascetic devotions, are to be found in the works of the tenth century Jewish authors of the East who display an appreciable degree of familiarity with the Sufi way of life. More pronounced evidence of Sufi influence on Jewish literature is to be found in Muslim Spain, where there had been a widespread flowering of Sufism in the tenth century.166
In the eleventh century, Jewry flourished in Spain under a tolerant Islamic rule. There was a porous relationship between Jewish and Muslim philosophers and mystics from the ninth century through the twelfth century, at which time the intolerant Almohad dynasty came to power. The influence of Sufi teachings on the writings of Jewish philosophers like Solomon ibn Gebirol and Bahya ibn Pakuda was marked, but it is unclear whether they themselves followed an internal mystic path under the guidance of Sufi masters. Some of the works of these Jewish authors were almost direct copies of Sufi manuals. Yosef ibn Aqnin (the twelfth–thirteenth century author of a Sufi-inspired commentary on the Song of Songs), in his work Therapy of Souls, quotes extensively from the sayings of earlier mystics such as al-Junayd (d. 910) and ibn Adham, whom he calls respectively sayh at-ta ’ifa (elder of the community) and ar-ruhant al-akmal (the perfect Saint).167
Solomon ibn Gebirol, also known by his Latin name, Avicebron, was born in Malaga, Spain, and lived in Saragossa. In his epic poem “Crown of Royalty” (Keter malkut) and his treatise The Fountain of Life (Mekor hayim; in Latin, Fons Vitae), he taught a philosophic system that incorporated Neoplatonic concepts as well as Sufism. It is known that he was influenced by the school of the Andalusian Sufi of Cordoba, ibn Masarra.168 However, it is difficult to know whether ibn Gebirol was a practicing mystic himself or a philosopher writing about Sufi concepts. Quite possibly, he may have functioned in both arenas.
The title of The Fountain of Life comes from a passage in Psalm 36, “For with thee is the fountain of life; in thy light do we see light” (36:11). To summarize the main ideas of his book: Both “universal form” and “universal matter” are created within time, as a series of emanations from the primal source of Light. All activity proceeds from the divine will, which is a force that pervades everything in the creation. Beyond lies the realm of the divine being, which can only be known through knowledge of the will. This knowledge leads to bliss. To attain it one has to give up worldly pleasures and attach oneself only to God.
In “Crown of Royalty,” which in many respects is based on The Fountain of Life, he writes about the state of the soul, saying that all creatures yearn to come closer to God on the royal route, but they have strayed and fallen. He says that the true disciple, “marching on the correct road, turns neither to the right nor to the left, until he enters the court of the palace of the King.” He then describes God as the one who supports all the creation by his divinity, and sustains all existence by his unity. There is no distinction between the Lord’s divinity, unity, eternity, and existence because it is all one mystery. All life flows from God. He describes the destination of the inner journey: “Thine is the hidden name, from the habitations of Wisdom.… Thou art the Living One, and he who reaches to thy mystery finds eternal delight; he eats and lives forever.”169
Bahya ibn Pakuda of the same period wrote an influential mystical work in Arabic, called The Book of Direction to the Duties of the Heart (al-Hidaya ila fara’id al-qutub; in Hebrew, Hovot ha-levavot). Translated into many languages, it has been greatly loved throughout the Jewish world since it appeared. Its subject is the life of the true servant, the devotee yearning for the mystical life. In it, he distinguishes between the “duties of the limbs” – the practical and ritualistic commandments, and the “duties of the heart” – the spiritual commandment to worship God with the heart. This work is groundbreaking, as it directs the devotee to rise above the senses and outward, physical worship of God; he holds inward worship as preferable to all the traditional precepts and prayers of Judaism. Although this concept was almost heretical, it was adopted by medieval Jews without controversy. Bahya doesn’t totally discard outward rituals and prayers and urge substitution of inward prayer and meditation, but he does stress the importance of an intense, inward focusing of the soul towards God even while performing the outward acts. He urges the devotee to acquire an understanding of the divine unity; of faith, trust, and love of God; of spiritual repentance rather than ritualized atonement, and so forth. All of these have mystical aspects.
It can’t be said whether Bahya undertook the inner spiritual journey himself, as almost nothing of his life is known. However, scholars believe that he knew Muslim Sufis and read their works. Duties reads like a literary effort imitating the style and content of Sufi devotional manuals, which were current in those times.
Meanwhile, the Almohad persecutions in Spain and the Crusades in the Holy Land had caused a large number of refugees to swell the Jewish population of Egypt. Fenton writes:
These social upheavals together with mounting intolerance both from without and within the Jewish fold, encouraged mystical aspirations amongst Egyptian Jewry. Indeed there arose a spiritual elite, who, … drawing their inspiration from a form of Sufism which owed much to al-Ghazzali, introduced a creative change in the flow of intellectual life and paved the way for the rapprochement of philosophy and mysticism which was to characterize subsequent Jewish thought for generations to come. The exact time and personalities involved in the emergence of this tendency remain shrouded in mystery but it seems that at the time of the great scholar and leader Moses Maimonides, and perhaps even in preceding generations, a number of Jews had begun to adopt Sufi practices.170
The Maimonides family
Among the refugees who fled Spain for Egypt was the Maimonides
family. Moses Maimonides (1135–1204) shouldered difficult and
time-consuming duties as a physician to the Sultan, the nobility, and
the general populace, yet he also served as the official head of the
Fostat (old Cairo) Jewish community. And, despite all these social
obligations, he still found time to act as a spiritual guide and write
important works in philosophy, science, and religion. His best-known
work is The Guide of the Perplexed, which he wrote over a
period of eleven years for a close disciple. He also wrote works on
logic, astronomy, medicine, and law; commentaries on the Mishnah and
Talmud; and a systematic code of Jewish law. He composed topical essays
on issues of his time, and carried on an extensive correspondence with
people all over the world who consulted him on problems in philosophy
and religion.
Maimonides’ key achievement from the intellectual standpoint is that he was able to synthesize the Greek intellectual and logical worldview – dependent on reason as the basis for knowledge of oneself and the divine power – with the rabbinic worldview, which depended on faith, scripture, and revelation. In his writings he examined scriptural injunctions and traditional Jewish beliefs using the tools of Aristotelian logic and analysis. But there are also sections of his writings on prophecy which imply that he was influenced by Islamic Sufi teachings, and that he appreciated the value of meditation to induce the mystic state. So, although his importance historically is as a philosopher and intellectual, it was Maimonides’ view of prophecy as something attainable in all periods that strongly influenced the concept of the spiritual master in subsequent times.
Some ask why the Guide of the Perplexed is written in a difficult and often veiled language. Although Maimonides had many admirers during his day, he also had many detractors who did not like his systematic presentation of the code of Jewish law, nor did they appreciate his radical scientific approach to other aspects of Judaism. After his death, in fact, his teachings were considered heretical and many of his books were burned. The rational approach was seen as a threat to traditional religion which was based on rabbinic authority, not intellect or reason. Perhaps this is the reason that he expressed his fondness for mysticism in an oblique and indirect way, buried within his intellectual works.
In a letter to a colleague, he wrote explicitly of the limitations of intellect and of the potential for superior spiritual knowledge through prophecy, which is “the vital energizing condition that establishes the channel linking man with God.”171 In order to attain true knowledge, one must rise to the state of prophecy, where logic and reason do not apply. Human knowledge stays within the realm of nature, but knowledge of the divine can only be achieved through prophecy, beyond the intellect. Maimonides wrote:
I maintain that human knowledge is limited, and as long as the soul is in the body it cannot know what is beyond nature. It cannot see beyond, because it is confined within nature. Thus when our intelligence should seek to probe the beyond it will be unable to do so, for this subject is outside its reach. It is only what is within nature that it can know and contemplate.… But know that there is a level of knowledge beyond that of the knowledge of the philosophers, and this is prophecy. Prophecy is another world, and proof and argumentation do not apply here. Once it has been authenticated that we have before us a prophetic vision, there is no need for supporting evidence.172
Writing about the limitations of the mind in obtaining true knowledge of God, Maimonides wrote: “No matter how greatly the mind may strive to know God, it will find a barrier; matter is a powerful dividing wall.”173 He saw the state of hitbodedut (self-isolation), the meditative state of mentally cutting oneself off from the world, as the way to develop inner love for the Lord:
It is well known that the love of the Holy One, praised be He, cannot become fixed in a person’s heart unless he meditates on it constantly … and he must withdraw from everything else in the world.174
Maimonides devoted a long section of the Guide to a discussion of prophecy. It was his description of the nature of the prophet and the various levels of prophecy as presented in the Bible which informed all future Jewish thinking about the concept of the prophet as a mystic and spiritual master. Prophecy, according to Maimonides, is not restricted to the biblical prophets; rather, it is a term that describes a level or state of consciousness attained through inner, mystic experience, in which a continuous emanation from the divine being is transmitted through the medium of the Active Intellect.* It can be achieved by mystic practitioners in any period of history if they possess certain qualities – a superior imaginative faculty, and moral and mental perfection achieved by self-training and self-discipline.
Several modern scholars of Maimonides have provided a new reading of Maimonides as a mystic. For example, Louis Jacobs comments about chapter 51 of the third part of the Guide:
The conventional understanding of Maimonides as the supreme rationalist and philosopher requires considerable qualifications. This chapter is a remarkable illustration of the mystical tendencies in Maimonides’ thought, but … a careful reading between the lines demonstrates even more, that, in fact, what Maimonides is offering his pupil – for whom he wrote this book – is a method for attaining to the gift of prophecy, which Maimonides believed he himself had attained, at least in its lower stages.175 … Seen in this way, as it should be, the statement is a kind of manual for the attainment of the lower degrees of prophecy.176
In this chapter of the Guide,177 Maimonides outlines how the disciple should undertake hitbodedut, the worship of God that will lead to knowledge of Him. The fact that Maimonides uses the term hitbodedut in the same way as it was used by his son, Abraham Maimonides, an avowed Sufi mystic practitioner, implies that the senior Maimonides was also engaged in teaching the practice of meditation. I am taking the liberty of giving a few lengthy quotations from Maimonides’ teachings here, as it is quite interesting to follow this great philosopher’s methodical approach to the practice of meditation, and to acknowledge his role as a teacher of the spiritual path. He begins with a quote from the Bible:
“To love the Lord your God, and to serve Him with all your heart and with all your soul” (Deuteronomy 11:13). Now we have made it clear several times that the love of God is proportionate to one’s knowledge of Him. After love comes this worship to which attention has also been drawn by the Sages, may their memory be blessed, who said: “This is the worship of the heart.” In my opinion it consists in concentrating one’s mind on the First Intellect and meditating [hitboded] on it as far possible according to one’s capacity.… It has thus been demonstrated that one’s aim, after having attained enlightenment, should be to give oneself over to [God] and make his Intellect yearn for Him at all times. In most cases, this is accomplished through seclusion and isolation. Every pious individual should therefore strive for seclusion and meditation [hitbodedut], not associating with others except when absolutely necessary.178
He stresses that an individual has the option of strengthening his bond with God through total immersion in thoughts of him and meditating on him, or of weakening the bond by thinking of worldly affairs. In fact, it is the holy spirit, the divine power, which he calls the Active Intellect, that is the everflowing bond. Elsewhere he extends this thought by maintaining that as long as a person’s mind is totally focused on God and not involved in any worldly affairs, no evil or mishap can befall him. He is under God’s protection during his meditation. But once his mind slips into concerns of eating, or household or business matters, he becomes vulnerable.
A call to attention. We have already made it clear to you that that Active Intellect [creative power or spirit] which overflowed from Him, may He be exalted, towards us, is the bond between us and Him. You have the choice: if you wish to strengthen and to fortify this bond, you can do so; if, however, you wish gradually to make it weaker and feebler until you cut it, you can also do that. You can only strengthen this bond by employing it in loving Him and in progressing toward this, just as we have explained. And it is made weaker and feebler if you busy your thought with what is other than He.… You would not be with Him then, nor He with you. For that relation between you and Him is actually broken off at that time.179
He continues by emphasizing the importance of total concentration and elimination of all other thoughts during meditation. Through this type of training, one will become worthy of knowledge of God:
On the other hand, while performing the actions imposed by the Torah, you should occupy your thought only with what you are doing, just as we have explained. When, however, you are alone with yourself and no one else is there and while you lie awake upon your bed, you should take care during these precious times not to set your thought to work on anything other than that intellectual worship consisting in nearness to God and being in His presence in that true reality that I have made known to you and not by way of affections of the imagination. In my opinion this end can be achieved by those of the men of knowledge who have rendered their souls worthy of it by training of this kind.180
On achieving this level, one would be able to keep his attention in God while being in the company of other people.
And there may be a human individual who, through his knowledge of the true realities and his joy in what he has perceived, achieves a state in which he talks with people and is occupied with his bodily necessities while his intellect is wholly turned toward Him, may He be exalted, so that in his heart he is always in His presence, … while outwardly he is with people, in the sort of way described by the poetical parables that have been invented for those notions: “I sleep, but my heart waketh; it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh,” and so on. I do not say that this rank is that of all the prophets; but I do say that this is the rank of Moses our Master.181
How should one meditate? He says one should repeat the Shema, the declaration of God’s unity, for lengthy periods of time, with full concentration, eliminating extraneous thoughts from the mind. This training takes years to perfect.
From here on I shall begin to give you guidance with regard to the form of this training so that you should achieve this great end. The first thing that you should cause your soul to hold fast on to is that, while reciting the Shema prayer, you should empty your mind of everything and pray thus. You should not content yourself with being intent while reciting the first verse of Shema and saying the first benediction. When this has been carried out correctly and has been practiced consistently for years, you should cause your soul, whenever you read or listen to the Torah, to be constantly directed – the whole of you and your thought – toward reflection on what you are listening to or reading. When this too has been practiced consistently for a certain time, cause your soul to be in such a way that your thought is always quite free of distraction and gives heed to all that you are reading of the other discourses of the prophets and even when you read all the benedictions, so that you aim at meditating on what you are uttering and at considering its meaning.182
Now he explains that love is the key quality needed in approaching God. “The individual’s heart overflows with love as a result of his contemplation on God.”183 The following passage from the Guide particularly influenced the hasidic masters in late eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Poland in their conception of devekut – devotion or merging in God. Quoting from Psalms, he says:
“Because he hath set his passionate love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him on high, because he hath known My name.” We have already explained in preceding chapters that the meaning of “knowledge of the Name” is: knowledge of Him [enlightenment]. It is as if the Psalm said that this individual is protected because he hath known Me and passionately loved Me. You know the difference between the terms “one who loves” [ohev] and “one who loves passionately” [hoshek]. An excess of love [mahabbah], so that no thought remains that is directed toward a thing other than the Beloved, is passionate love [ishk].184
He describes the state a person eventually achieves as he follows this path of total devotion through meditation, controlling his passions and the evil inclination that had impeded his progress in his youth. Ultimately, at his death, he will have perfected himself, and the soul will leave his body “in a state of pleasure”:
The philosophers have already explained that the bodily faculties impede in youth the attainment of most of the moral virtues, and all the more that of pure thought, which is achieved through the perfection of the Intellects that lead to passionate love of Him, may He be exalted. For it is impossible that it should be achieved while the bodily humors are in effervescence. Yet in the measure in which the faculties of the body are weakened and the fire of the desires is quenched, the Intellect is strengthened, its lights achieve a wider extension, its ability to perceive is purified, and it rejoices in what it perceives. The result is that when a perfect man is stricken with years and approaches death, this enlightenment increases very powerfully, joy over this enlightenment and a great love for the object of knowledge becomes stronger, until the soul is separated from the body at that moment in this state of pleasure.185
In some of his other writings Maimonides discussed the importance of meditation as a way of entering the “mysteries” (the pardes or secret garden), achieving the level of the holy spirit and ascending to the level of God, the Throne of Glory.
An individual having all the necessary qualifications can delve into the mysteries [pardes], advancing in these deep, subtle concepts and gaining a firm understanding and perception of them. At the same time, he must also sanctify himself and separate himself from the ways of the masses, who grope in the darkness of the times. He must achieve constant diligence in not even thinking of nonessentials or considering the current vanities and intrigues.
Such a person must work on himself until his mind is constantly clear and directed on high. He must bind his intellect to the Throne of Glory, striving to comprehend the purity and holiness of the transcendental. He must furthermore contemplate on the wisdom of God in each thing, understanding its true significance, whether it be the highest spiritual entity or the lowest thing on earth. The individual who does this immediately becomes worthy of ruah ha-kodesh.
When he attains this spirit, his soul becomes bound up on the level of angels … and he becomes a completely different person. He can now understand things with a knowledge completely different than anything that he ever experienced previously. The level that he has attained is far above that of other men, who can merely use their intellect. This is the meaning of what [the prophet Samuel told] King Saul, “[The spirit of God shall descend upon you,] you shall prophesy with them, and you shall be transformed into a different man” (1 Samuel 10:6).186
It was Maimonides who was the first to formulate and teach the modern Jewish conception of prophecy and how the individual could rise to the prophetic level.
Because scholars have found a strong Sufi influence in Maimonides’ writings, especially in the last chapters of the Guide, they have presumed that he himself had made some inner prog- ress along these lines. More openly following Sufi mystic practices was Maimonides’ son, Abraham Maimonides (1186–1237), some of whose manuscripts were discovered in the Cairo Genizah, a hidden library concealed in the attic of an ancient synagogue, which was unearthed in the late nineteenth century.
The Genizah brought to light a collection of mystical writings from the thirteenth century, which reveal the nature of spiritual mastership and spiritual practice of the Jewish Sufis of that period. It also demonstrates the great Jewish interest in Sufi-related mystic practices. There were many Islamic Sufi manuscripts copied into Hebrew characters, and some in the original Arabic. There were also writings by the early Jewish Sufis, including correspondence between Abraham Maimonides and his disciples, and between Abraham he-Hasid, another mystic of that period, and one of his followers.
The Jewish Sufi mystics were called hasidim (pietists, devotees) in many of the manuscripts found in the Genizah. As we have seen in other periods, the term refers to the followers of a spiritual master, and sometimes to the masters themselves. Bahya ibn Pakuda, in his Duties of the Heart, “equates the hasid with the highest degree of devotion, that of the ‘prophets and saints.’ ’’187 Hasid has also been related to hasidah, the “stork,” alluding “to those who shun the corruption of mankind and, like the stork, seek the solitude of the wilderness in the sole company of their master.”188 Fenton remarks that “several generations of Maimonides’ ancestors are referred to with this title, which seems to connote something more than just ‘piety.’ ”189 By reviewing these manuscripts, we can get an idea of the spiritual practices of the hasidim and how they adapted Islamic Sufi terminology and literary styles for their own purposes.
Abraham he-Hasid and the Maimonides family
One of the most important hasidim was Rabbi Abraham he-Hasid
(d. 1223), who was often confused with Abraham Maimonides because they
shared the same name. He was probably Abraham Maimonides’ master, as the
younger Maimonides refers to him as “our master in the Path of the
Lord.”190 Some of Abraham he-Hasid’s writings were found in the Genizah,
including a commentary on the Song of Songs, which is viewed as a
guide for the spiritual practitioner to rise through the various levels
to union with God. Like other literature produced by the circles of
Jewish Sufis, his writings were probably strongly influenced by Muslim
Sufi mystical writing, yet they reflect “an original and specifically
Jewish doctrine.”191
Abraham Maimonides, like his father Moses, was an important figure active in both worldly and spiritual spheres. He was a devoted hasid, as can be seen in his work Kifayat al-abidin (The Compendium for the Servants of God, known as Kifaya) – a manual for spiritual living, which was similar to Bahya ibn Pakuda’s Hidaya in its intention but more openly recognizes the spiritual attainments of the Muslim Sufis. He equates “the discipline of the Islamic mystics with that of the old prophets of Israel,” stating: “Do not regard as unseemly our comparison of that to the behavior of the Sufis, for the latter imitate the prophets (of Israel) and walk in their footsteps, not the prophets in theirs.”192
Abraham illustrates his teachings with quotations and examples from the Bible and rabbinic literature “in an attempt to portray his pietist (hasidic) innovations as a restoration of practices that were formerly those of the prophets of ancient Israel and which had now fallen to the lot of the Islamic mystics.… It is noteworthy in this respect that the Jewish pietists often referred to themselves as the ‘disciples of the Prophets.’ ”193
Abraham Maimonides’ eldest son, David, who succeeded Abraham as the leader of the Egyptian Jewish community, was probably also a hasid, but does not seem to have taken the role of a master. Abraham’s younger son, Obadyah (1228–1265), however, was the spiritual guide of a group of Jewish Sufis in his generation, for whom he wrote his book, The Treatise of the Pool.
Obadyah was regarded with great reverence by the Jews of his time as a master of esoteric secrets and divine wisdom, as attested by a letter found in the Genizah:
As for our glorious teacher and Master Obadyah the eminent Sage to whom mysteries are revealed, in whom “light, understanding, and wisdom like the wisdom of the angels are to be found” (Daniel 5:11), “no secret mystifieth him, he lieth down and all is revealed to him” (Daniel 4:6).194
Because Obadyah’s influence was on the esoteric level, and perhaps because he was less involved in the affairs of the community than his brother David, he and his work fell into obscurity after a few generations, when the Jewish Sufis disappeared. The Treatise was lost until rediscovered in the mid-nineteenth century, and it was only validated as Obadyah’s work recently.195
The style of Obadyah’s writing is rambling and mystically lyrical, and relies on his father’s and grandfather’s writings. In some respects it is an enlargement of the final chapters of his grandfather’s Guide of the Perplexed, which we have cited above, but with a more explicitly mystical emphasis.
The Treatise is a manual for the person who travels the spiritual path. He emphasizes the importance of the spiritual master, and alludes to the presence of spiritual masters throughout Jewish history. He urges the seeker to prepare himself adequately to travel the path and serve God, separating himself from sensual or vulgar material activities, and attaching himself to the higher activity – Reason (an allusion to the Active Intellect or logos). He also urges that a seeker keep the company of the virtuous, the hasidim, the spiritually advanced. The goal of traveling the mystic path is to attain divine communion, a state of bliss so all-encompassing that one will never want to feel separated from God again. This is an individual experience, Obadyah emphasizes:
Lo, after having attained to this state, so passionate will be thy rapture, that thou shalt not suffer to be separated from Him, even for an instant. And as thy bliss increaseth, so will thy passion increase and thou wilt no longer delight in food nor drink nor rest. In the end, however, thou alone art the one to gain [from this], “if thou growest wise thou growest wise for thyself” (Proverbs 9:12).196
Even though he is very open about his Sufi influence and his mystical perspective, Obadyah still feels the need to conceal his true meaning. At one point he states:
Know thou that meditatest this treatise that the matter to which we have alluded here cannot be more openly expounded. Thus upon happening on a verse that can be interpreted in several manners, my goal is merely to open the gate and rely upon the disciple’s comprehension. If he be endowed with insight and intuition [dawq] then he will arrive at the true significance through his own resources.197
Obadyah brings symbolic interpretations for certain biblical terms or concepts. As much of his writing is concerned with the conflict between soul and body, he interpreted biblical allusions to a city being besieged by enemies as the soul being besieged by the passions. For example, the rebellion of the biblical prophet Balaam’s donkey is understood as the rebellion of mind and matter, which his soul was unable to dominate.
He understands the “tree of life” as the ultimate spiritual knowledge that brings reunion of the soul with its divine source. He interprets the manna (the food on which the Israelites survived during their forty years of wandering in the wilderness) as the spiritual nourishment, the divine knowledge, “which was intended to bring the generation of the wilderness to spiritual perfection (kamal).”198 Permeating the entire work are references to water on a symbolic level, as the spiritual nourishment in the desert of the world. In the biblical narratives, for example, when the patriarchs dig wells, he interprets that to mean they are seeking a higher level of spirituality through the practice of meditation. In Chapter Ten, he compares man’s heart to a cistern or pool that is to be filled with pure water, reminiscent of Jeremiah’s prophecy:
Great care is to be exercised that no impurity seep into the heart for this could be the cause of fatal errors on the spiritual path, such as that of Elisha [ben Abuya], who mistook the marble for water. Once the heart is completely cleansed of all but God then the living water will pour into it and wonders will be revealed.… One should ever strive toward the perfect waters and avoid “the broken cisterns” (Jeremiah 2:13).… The well or pool as a life-giving symbol so natural in the parched lands of the East, plays a great role in both Islamic and Jewish esotericism.199
As we saw earlier in the discussion on the prophet Moses, the hasidim believed that they were reviving an ancient spiritual tradition that had begun with Adam, was passed to the patriarchs and then to Moses, who had imparted it to Israel. This was the substance of the revelation on Sinai. With the exile it had been lost, they believed, but it now had the potential to be revived under the mastership of the hasidim. Obadyah used the term “intercessor” for the spiritual guide, who mediates between man and the Lord, explaining that a person without an intercessor is considered to be dead:
It is clear that he who hath not gained an intercessor to mediate between himself and his Beloved is considered as dead. Once thou hast realized this principle, then thou wilt be ashamed to call on the Lord without having achieved this.
Indeed, “Who is he and where is he who could bear to stand before the Lord” (Esther 7:5) without having recourse to a mediator, for this is sheer impertinence! Thus it is incumbent upon us to seek diligently after an intercessor and to find one without delay, for he is our guardian in the nether world and our guide to the world everlasting, and think not otherwise.200
He counsels the disciple to honor and value his intercessor:
O my son, honor him that mediateth between thee and thy Creator, may He be extolled inasmuch as he intercedeth for thy good, since he is “the interpreter between them” (Genesis 42:23). Take great pains to retain [his mediation] for its loss is irretrievable.201
Paul Fenton, translator of Obadyah’s Treatise of the Pool, remarks on the role of the Jewish Sufis as inheritors and transmitters of this divine revelation, the state of prophecy. Not everyone was qualified to become a hasid; rather it was the province of the elite. Abraham he-Hasid believed that at the time of revelation of the Torah, God meant to grant the ability to rise to prophetic state to all Israel, and that this could have been maintained by a “continued observance of a spiritual discipline,” meaning the Jewish Sufi doctrine, but not everyone was of the level to make use of this potential of inner spiritual realization. The external law or Torah was therefore given to them so that the mass of the people could “draw near to this state.”202 Fenton quotes an anonymous hasid of that time:
The Torah was revealed through the Chosen Apostle who was the elite [safwa] of the descendants of Abraham, His beloved, and the result of the purest lineage: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Levi, Kehat, Amram, and then Moses, all of whom had been instruments of the Divine Word [hussil bihim al-amr al-ilahi]. So that through the Torah which was revealed to him, they may become prophets, and he that does not attain to prophecy shall draw nigh to its state through commendable deeds.203
According to Abraham Maimonides, travelers on the “special path” had to follow a strict, moral, and disciplined way of life and have the capacity to delve into the deeper, mystical meaning of the scriptures. Abraham and Obadyah insisted on adherence to the traditional Jewish law as the foundation of the path. This may have been a way of deflecting criticism of their Muslim Sufi–influenced esoteric movement.
The virtues and moral behavior to be cultivated on the path are discussed by both Abraham in his Kifaya and Obadyah (less systematically) in his Treatise of the Pool, “a spiritual itinerary which owes much to the ethical manuals current among the Sufis: sincerity, mercy, generosity, gentleness, humility, faith, contentedness, abstinence, striving, solitude. Passing through ‘fear,’ ‘love,’ and ’cleaving to God,’204 he will be uplifted to true sanctity and will comprehend the nobleness of the bond between himself and God.”205
Practices
Although the core of the practices the hasidim followed is probably
universal to most mystical paths, some of the specific techniques
reflect the influence of the Islamic Sufi model, including ablution,
prostration, kneeling, weeping, spreading of the hands, orientation to
the ark, and night-long vigils and fasting. Solitary retreats for forty
days and nights, called halwa, was another Sufi technique they
adopted, during which they sometimes practiced “incubation” (a
meditation technique akin to suspended animation).
Halwa was emphasized by Abraham and Obadyah as the highest of mystical paths, especially the inward seclusion (halwa batina) that brings about inner illumination (nur batin) and prophetic communion (wusul nabawi) while still living in the company of other people. Obadyah wrote that the biblical patriarchs’ spiritual practice involved solitary meditation, which the hasidim were imitating through their own practice of halwa. An important aspect of halwa batina is the control of the mind, which does not depend on running to mountains or caves. It can be accomplished while living anywhere, but they warned about the importance of discretion in safeguarding one’s inner experience:
Realize that the state to which thou hast attained or to which thou hast drawn near is to be likened to the case of one who hath found a precious object. If he be conscious and appreciative of the value of his find, then he will evermore be beholden unto the Most High, who hath bestowed upon him this [gift] without [his having suffered] either effort or hardship. Then he will utilize it in perfecting his soul, for the sake of Him who hath been merciful towards him.…
Safeguard then this [gift] O Seeker, for it is a most precious and valuable commodity.… Remain sincere to it and withdraw from those occupations which turn thee aside from it whilst thou art among thy family and thy kinsfolk. Do not believe, like the poor in spirit, that seclusion [inqita] is meant for the mountains and caves and that by merely withdrawing thereunto they will accomplish aught, for it is not so.206
Obadyah wrote that after subduing the passions one should engage in solitary meditation in order to attain the mystic experience of divine communion:
When thou remainest alone with thy soul after having subdued thy passions, a Gate will open before thee through which thou wilt contemplate wonders. When thy five external senses come to rest, thine internal senses will awaken and thou wilt behold a resplendent light emanating from the splendor of Reason. Thou wilt perceive mighty and awesome voices which leave a man bewildered.207
The austere way of life prescribed for the hasidim included simplicity in dress and conduct, and control of sleeping, eating, and speaking. Normally they would defer marriage until at least age forty in order to pursue their spiritual life more intensively.
Dikr ceremonies, involving dancing and singing, which were common to the Muslim Sufis, were not adopted by these Jewish hasidim. However the significance of inner dikr, “dikr of the heart,” practiced during the halwas, is mentioned in Jewish texts. Abraham he-Hasid wrote:
One can attain to the spiritual world through the practice of outward and inward holiness, excessive love of God, and the delight in His recollection [dikr] and holy names.208
Fenton also mentions another mystic who incorporated Sufi elements into his teachings though he was not considered a Sufi himself. The kabbalist Abraham Abulafia (died c. 1295) taught meditation using breath control and repetition of sacred formulae until he arrived at a state of mehikah (effacement) of self. It is presumed he was influenced by Muslim and perhaps Indian teachers whom he met during his extensive travels in the East.
One could continue bringing examples of Jewish mystics and masters who, for hundreds of years, throughout the Arab and Muslim world, were influenced by the vocabulary and practices of Muslim Sufism. Suffice it to say that traces of Sufism can be found in the teachings of other early and later kabbalists, like Isaac of Akko (Acre) in the thirteenth and fourteenth century and Hayim Vital in the eighteenth century, and many others in the intervening centuries who lived in Egypt and the Holy Land. The copying into Hebrew characters of Persian Sufi poetry, such as that of Rumi and Sa’adi, greatly contributed to the circulation of Sufi ideas among Persian Jews. However, the specific hasidic Jewish Sufi movement itself declined, as there was a lessening of tolerance within Muslim society at large, and the knowledge of classical Arabic diminished among Jews. The works of Abraham he-Hasid and the mystical sections of Abraham Maimonides’ writings and those of other Jewish Sufis fell into oblivion.
Yet for several hundred more years, the influence of Islamic Sufi mysticism continued to infuse Jewish spiritual life in Egypt, Damascus, Jerusalem, Baghdad, and elsewhere in the Arab world, as demonstrated by numerous manuscripts that have been found synthesizing the Sufi and Maimonidean approach with the rabbinic and (later) the kabbalistic. Presumably, the anonymous author of the fifteenth-century Jewish Sufi manuscript al-Makala fi derekh ha-hasidut, which outlines the stations or levels of the mystic path using deeply Sufi terminology, was a spiritual master to the Jews of the Arab world.
Fenton’s fascinating and ground-breaking study of the hasidim of Egypt, and Sufism among Jews elsewhere in the Muslim world, is important because it demonstrates the strong influence of Islamic Sufi masters on a little-known period of Jewish mysticism. These hasidim used a Sufi vocabulary, but in every sense they saw their teaching as authentic to Judaism; Sufism represented a means for them to get in touch with the prophetic tradition, which (according to Obadyah) had been lost to the Jews for many generations. This study also enlightens our understanding of the role of the spiritual master in all subsequent spiritual movements in Judaism.
The Sufi model of mysticism and spiritual mastership re-entered Judaism even farther east, when in the seventeenth century a Jew named Sarmad settled in India. Born into a rabbinical family of Kashan, Persia, he went to India as a trader and experienced a spiritual transformation. Sarmad is still revered throughout India as a Muslim, yet little is known about the details of his life. From his writings, however, there is evidence that Sarmad was a mystic of the highest order, a saint who transcended the boundaries of religion and found the Lord within himself. He wrote of union with the divine name as union with the inner divine music. Some sources say he converted to Islam and then to Hinduism, but if one reads his rubaiyats (poems) carefully, it is clear that although he examined all religions, he rejected their external limitations, embracing the universal experience of the divine which he recognized as the true teaching. Like the Muslim Sufis, he extolled the power of love and boldly sang of his unconventional love for the Lord and the master and inspired others to do the same. In 1659/60, because of his unorthodox approach to worship, he was beheaded as a heretic by Aurangzeb, the Mogul emperor of India.
Through his love for his master, Sarmad’s consciousness was elevated and he experienced union with him. Using Sufi terminology, he calls his master “the Friend.” He refers to both the master and the Lord with this term:
The love of the Friend has exalted me
and made me needless of the favor of others.
I was set aflame like a candle in this gathering,
and through this burning I became his intimate.209Seek a Friend who will never be unfaithful,
nor wound your heart in friendship –
One who is ceaselessly in your embrace,
never even a step away.210
In the following rubai (poem) Sarmad explores the seemingly paradoxical relationship between the Lord and the master and then offers the practical response of the mystic: If you have love, then you will transcend the mind’s limited understanding and experience the oneness of the master and the Lord.
The madness of my heart is the perfection of wisdom,
but the chaos of love
is beyond the grasp of the mind:
Can the ocean be contained in a pitcher?
Impossible, it [my mind] says,
even though some may claim it so.211
Sarmad agrees that ultimately it is impossible to understand with our limited intellect how God can manifest in a human being. The only way we can understand this paradox is to go within, to the inner regions, and see for ourselves how the microcosm (the human body) can contain the macrocosm (the Lord and his creation). Spiritual seekers must experience this truth for themselves; otherwise, it does indeed seem like a play of the imagination.