From words of Torah, prayers form, words become vessels to
fill with our soul, Torah filling us, each of us filling Torah. It is the way
of sacred scripture in every tradition, encountering God and ourselves in the
seeking, in the shimmering union of text and context. As we make our way along
the path of Torah from week to week, wooded glens open before us, places to
pause and rest, oases from the strife and struggle along the way of life. There
is succor for the weariness and worry held in the details of our own lives, and
for the collective worry from all that assaults us in the political climate of
these times. Given the gentle beauty of our sensibilities, we can’t in
conscience put aside our awareness of those who suffer, or not consider the
ways we might help to meet their needs. Yet even here, there are times when we
need to pause, to sigh, to breath deeply, to remember the beauty of the world
all around us and within us. There are times when we may recall places of
beauty we have been, that gave of their gifts to us and helped us to relax.

Perhaps a pond deep in the woods, a beautiful flower we saw along the path to
get there. Perhaps it was a mountaintop and all the beauty along the way of
hiking higher and higher. Perhaps we didn’t have to go very far to come to such
a place, delighting with the flowers and bushes that grow along the sidewalk,
roots of trees breaking through the cement that invades their space. And in the
changing of seasons, now to stop in the midst of all that swirls and see our breath
that comes from within and reminds of a place even deeper where our very soul
abides. Seasons continue to turn in their way, snowflakes then to melt upon our
skin. We hold the memories of what has been, sensing the beauty, seeing it with
eyes closed with all the freshness and clarity of when we were there, of when
it was new and now, time and place shimmering, gifts of forest and field
continuing to touch, to inspire and infuse.

It is the essence of an exquisite teaching of Rebbe Nachman
of Breslov (1772-1810) that is rooted in the Torah portion
Chayei Sarah/the Life of Sarah (Gen. 23:1-25:18). Following the
trauma of the
Akedah, the binding of
Isaac, of father’s intended sacrifice of son, Yitzchak goes out into the field
to meditate,
va’yetze Yitzchak lasu’ach
ba’sadeh lifnot arev/and Yitzchak went out to meditate in the field at the
turning of evening (Gen. 24:63). It is the same root, whether of language
or spirit,
la’su’ach/to meditate, to
pray, to converse, and so too the root of
si’ach/a bush, a shrub, green and
verdant growing things. So from his own traumas, so much pain and
sorrow in his life, Rebbe Nachman would go out each day to be alone in nature,
among the trees and grasses, finding solace and strength in field and forest.
From words of Torah he formed words of prayer,
May I merit to make it my custom to go out each day to the field and be
among the trees and grasses and every shrub of the field. And there may I merit
to be alone and to increase in conversation between me and the one to whom I
belong (Likutei T’filot 2:11).
It is all in the way of Yitzchak going out into the field
that Rebbe Nachman teaches, words of Torah become prayers, become vessels,
become places of respite, of sanctuary. I share his teaching as I translated it
long ago while sitting in the woods of a Jewish summer camp, children’s voices
all around, laughter and joy to inspire, Shabbos coming near.
Know, that when a
person prays in a field, then all of the grasses come within the prayer, and
aid the one praying, and give to the one praying strength in their prayer. In
this way, prayer is called “sicha” (in all of its layers of meaning, prayer,
meditation, and shrub). This is in the aspect, derived from B’reishit 2:5 which
says “si’ach ha’sadeh/shrub of the field.” Every shrub of the field gives
strength and aids one in their prayer. This is the aspect of B’reishit 24:63,
“And Yitzchak went out to meditate in the field,” that his prayer would be with
the aid and strength of the field, that all of the grasses of the field would
give strength and aid to his prayer. For this reason, prayer is called “sicha,”
as explained above. Therefore, in the curse in D’varim/Deuteronomy 11:17 (which
is in the second paragraph of the Sh’ma) it is said, “and the ground will not
give its produce/v’ha’adamah lo titen et y’vulah,” for all of the
produce/herbage of the earth needs to give strength and aid within prayer. And
when there is a defect or barrier concerning the earth’s giving aid to prayer,
of this it says, “and the ground will not give its strength. And even when one
is not praying in a field the produce of the earth still gives aid to their
prayer. That is to say, all that supports a person, for example, eating and
drinking, goes forth to provide such support (as eating and drinking support
the body, so the produce of the earth also supports the soul and aids one’s
prayer). When one is in the field, however, then nature’s support for their
prayer is greater, then all of the grasses and all of the produce of the ground
give strength to their prayer, as explained above. And this word
“produce/yivol” can be derived from the first letters of the verse (Gen.
24:63), “and Yitzchak went out to meditate in the field/Va’yetze Yitzchak La’su’ach Ba’sadeh…, for all of the produce of the field prayed with him, as
explained above… (Likutei Moharan Tinyana 11).

As we go out each week to meditate in the Sabbath field,
L’cha Dodi/Come Beloved, so may we find
beauty and rest among all the delights of Shabbos. Aid and support given to our
prayer, continuing then to inspire and nurture as we re-enter the world of
time, may we merit to remember what we have seen and known, strength given to
body and soul, renewed and refreshed.
Rabbi Victor Reinstein
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