A Faith Play in Five Nights

1982

Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, 3rd year Rabbinic School

A rabbinical student once sought to know the meaning of faith. As it happens, he did most of his learning on the subject at night. At the peak of his struggle with the problem, he received a series of nocturnal visitors, all of whom had strong and widely differing views of the nature of religious faith. Because it seemed to me a matter of great importance and of universal interest, I have recorded the student’s conversations with these visitors as they were told to me,

First Night

First visitor--an evangelist: Howdy brother!

Student: Who are you?

E: A friend, a brother, a messenger... can call me Reverend.

S: What do you want?

B: I have something for you.

S: What’s that?

B: How would you like to be the proud possessor of life everlasting?

S: Well, I wouldn’t mind; but I don’t think I could afford it.

B: Oh it’s not expensive,

S: What do I have to do?

E: Believe.

S: Believe?

B: Uh huh. Have faith. Know in your heart,

S: Know what? Could you be a little clearer?

B: Boy, for a rabbinical student you’re at a pretty low level. Believe in God, son, isn’t that what you fellas spend all your time talking about?

S:  Oh…God. O.K., now we can talk. So tell me; why should I believe in God? I mean there’s evil in the world; it’s a mess. Nothing makes sense. Can you give me a reason to believe?

E: Do you want life everlasting?

S:   Yeah, but..

B: Well there’s only one way to get it, and that’s to believe.

S:   But what if there is no God and no life everlasting? I’d have gambled away my heart and mind on a false promise!

E: That’s right, boy; it takes guts to be saved!

With that the reverend vanished and the student was left alone, wondering whether he had the courage to risk his religious belief on a God and a life everlasting that he had no good reason to believe existed.

Second Night

Medieval Jewish philosopher, Saadiah Gaon: Good evening; are you asleep?

Student: No, at least I don’t think so. I’ve got too much to think about.

SG: What’s on your mind?

S:   I’m frightened by the leap of faith, how can I pass up the possibility of redemption and eternal life? But on the other hand, what if I make the leap of faith and there is no God and no redemption to catch me on the other side?

SG: I don’t know where you got your notion of faith, child, but it can’t have been from Judaism. Jewish religious belief is not a gamble. It is a certainty. The entire Jewish people, six hundred thousand souls, had a direct, stunning, unforgettable experience of God and His revelation at Mount Sinai. The essence of our tradition is the retelling of that experience from father to son in every generation, This is a reliable tradition, child, and we can be just as certain of its truth as we are about our own experiences.

S:   Well, it does seem unlikely that a parent would lie to their child about something so important.

SG: It’s unthinkable.

S:   And how could the entire Jewish people agree on such an incredible story if the event at Sinai didn’t actually occur?

SG: Preposterous notion

S:   Then there is no gamble? No leap of faith? I can be redeemed through plain old common sense?

SG: Now you’re talking like a rabbi, child

Vastly relieved at having arrived, as he thought, at the end of his search, the student fell right away into a sound sleep. How ironic that, just as he was feeling good again about having chosen a rabbinic career, a visit from our father Abraham would cast him back into confusion.

Third Night

Abraham: Isaac, is that you?

Student: What? No, my name isn’t Isaac.

A: Isaac, forgive me. I had no choice! Oh, I know, I did have a choice. Isaac, can you ever forgive me?

S:   Wake up old man, you’re dreaming.

A: Huh, what?

S:   You were dreaming. I’m not Isaac. But who are you?

A: I’m Avram. I mean Avraham, Please, call me Avraham.

S:   Abraham! Boy, this is great! Hey, I want to thank you for starting this religion.

A: What do you mean?

S:   Well, I just think it’s great that we Jews, your descendents, have such a common sense belief in God It’s nice not having to suspend my reason. And the best part is having the certainty about God and His promises.  But I guess that’s the only way you could have gone along with sacrificing Isaac, huh?

A: What?!! You know about that?

S:   Sure, it’s a terrific story. It must have been exciting for you. Didn’t you wonder when God was going to step in and stop you from sacrificing Isaac? He sure waited ‘til the last minute, didn’t He?

A: So…, you think I knew it was a test all along?

S:  Of course! That’s why the story begins, “And after these things, God tested Abraham,” If you hadn’t known it was a test, then you would have been going against all reason and morality during the three days before the sacrifice. And that’s not Jewish faith I just had it explained to me last night.

A: Young man, I would like nothing better than for your congregants to think that I never intended to kill my son but, seriously, do you really imagine that my covenant with God was based upon a charade? Reason, common sense, and morality? Despair is more like it. I don’t think you could conceive of the anguish I felt in preparing my child’s death. And to tell you the truth, it wasn’t any better when God called it off. At that point, I was ready; I was determined. Nothing could have been more difficult at that last moment than not to kill Isaac. Do you know what it is to be absolutely helpless, to be stripped of all will and freedom, to be a puppet on God’s hand? There is no certainty, no rules, no sense. That is my experience of faith.

S:   Wow.

The student had not expected Abraham to be such a fanatic, Saadiah, he realized, had only given him one perspective on Jewish faith, His search, it seemed, was not yet over.

Fourth Night

(Hop, hop.       Hop. Hop, hop, hop.   Hop.)

Student: Man, as if I wasn’t already having enough trouble falling asleep, a roach, and a huge one by the sound of it

Frog: Ribbet, I’m no roach, kid.

S:   A toad! How’d he get in here?

F:   Nor am I a toad. Don’t you know a goddamn frog when you see one?

S:   Sorry. Listen, since I see you can talk, would you mind telling me what you’re doing here? Don’t tell me you have something to teach me about faith,

F:   As a matter of fact, I have a story to tell you.

S:   Is It about faith?

F:   It’s a Zen story.

S:   Close enough. Go ahead.

F:   O.K., here goes It once happened that two frogs fell into a pail of milk. And they couldn’t get out. The sides of the pail were steep and slippery, and there was nothing firm and solid in the pail to jump off from. So they were stuck. You with me?

S:   Go on.

F:   Well, one frog, after making a few half attempts to jump out, sees that the situation in hopeless, gives up and drowns.

S:   You mean he croaked.

F:   No, he drowned.

S:   Never mind, go ahead.

F:   O.K., now the second frog also sees that the situation is hopeless. But he is driven, by something, to keep jumping, He jumps and he jumps; he’s not getting anywhere, but he continues to jump and jump.

S:   The leap of faith.

F:   You said it, kid, not me. Anyway, this goes on for hours, days..., and he’s at the end of his energy. He has absolutely nothing left with which to continue and is about to sink beneath the surface of the milk. And just as he thinks he’s about to die, he realizes...that the milk has turned to butter and he’s standing on dry land.

(There is a pause, and then...)

S:   That’s the story?

F:   That’s it.

S:   Is there supposed to be a message there?

F:   What would you say?

S:   Well it’s interesting that the frog’s actions brought about his own redemption in a way which he could never have foreseen.

F:   Not bad. Do you think he had faith?

S:   I’ve begun to think I don’t know what that means,

F:   (slaps him) Do you think he had faith?

S:   Uh, yes. think so. But I know some people who would disagree. The reverend and Saadiah both know exactly what the object of their faith is. They both believe in something – in God, in the truth of their religion and its promises. They won’t be a bit surprised if and when they are finally redeemed. But the frog didn’t have any hope or belief that his jumping would help. And he was probably dumbfounded when it did.

You know, maybe the frog’s faith was like Abraham’s; he didn’t expect God to save Isaac’s life. He had no hope, no belief in the future.., but did what he had to, against all reason. And he was rewarded

F:   O.K., that’s good. But as you noticed earlier, it’s significant that the frog was saved by his own actions, while Abraham was rewarded by divine intervention. And Abraham was rewarded for obeying a commandment. Was the frog ‘commanded’ to jump? Maybe it was unthinking reflex.

5:   This is getting confusing.

F:   Well it is a Zen parable.

S:   Right. One last thing...

F:   Yes?

S:   Are you the frog...

F: ...of infinite faith? Ribbet.

Too tired to decide whether that was a positive or negative response, the student drifted off to sleep. The frog’s story had not really given him a workable definition of faith, but it had made him feel a little better after the shock of speaking with Abraham. It was comforting to think of the frog standing happily in the butter, and even Abraham, he realized, had received a wonderful reward for his faith descendents, a beautiful land, great wealth and virtual immortality. As soon as he knew what faith was, the student decided, he would begin to engage in it.

Fifth Night

A Voice: Darkness…

Student: Who’s there?

Voice: What is this? A disciple?

Student: Are you a teacher?

Voice: And now the darkness is dispelled by the sun and the moon. The light and the mirror, teacher and disciple. Take care, boy; I am Nachman.

S:   Nachman Can you tell me what faith is?

N: I could, but you would not survive the telling. In fact, you would quite probably be unconscious after the first syllable of the first word

S:   Nachman, maybe you don’t realize what I’ve been through the passed few nights. I spoke with Abraham!

N: Avraham Avinu! He would understand my teaching.

S:   The way I see it, there are two different reasons for having faith. Either you have good evidence upon which you base your belief--like a miracle or a mass revelation. Or you contemplate such a fantastic reward for faith that you’re willing to take the risk of being wrong. Which is it for you Nachman?

N: A reason for faith? Don’t be an idiot, child,

S:   I thought I was being pretty bright.

N: Bright? Look at my face; it is the sun, You are the moon, and perhaps you may reflect some of this light. Listen to a story.

S:   Whatever you say.

N: There is a mountain, and on that mountain, there stands a rock. A spring gushes forth from that rock.

Now everything has a heart, and the world as a whole has a heart. The heart of the world is a complete form, with face, hands and feet. But even the toenail on that heart of the world is more heart-like than any other heart.

The mountain and the spring stand at one end of the world, and the heart is at the other. The heart stands facing the spring, yearning and longing to draw near to it.

It is filled with a wild yearning and constantly cries out in its longing to approach the spring. The spring, too, longs for the heart.

The heart suffers from two weaknesses: The sun pursues it terribly and burns it, because it wants to approach the spring; its second weakness is that of longing and constant outcry to draw near to the spring, The heart ever stands facing the spring and cries out in pain because of its great yearning.

When the heart needs to rest a bit or to catch its breath, a great bird comes over it and spreads forth its wings to shield the heart from the sun. But even at times of rest, the heart looks out to the spring in longing.

Now, if the heart is filled with so great a desire to draw near to the spring, why does it not simply do so? But as soon as it begins to move toward the mountain, the mountaintop where the spring stands disappears from view. And the life of the heart flows from the spring; if it were to allow the spring to vanish from its sight, it would die...

If that heart were to die, God forbid, the entire world would be destroyed. The heart is the life of all things; how could the world exist without a heart? For this reason the heart can never approach the spring, but ever stands opposite it and looks at it in longing.*

S:   That is the saddest story I have ever heard.

N: It is a story about faith.

S:   I know.

N: Do you understand now that there is no reward for faith?

S:   Yes...but what about the Reverend and Saadiah and Abraham and the frog? They all were rewarded or were looking forward to it.

N: They had the faith of those who dwell below. They are so far from God that they need to be reassured of his existence. But for those who dwell above, all that can be said of God is “What?”

S:   That’s not much to look forward to.

N: No it’s not.

S:   Well if there’s no reward for faith, then you must have been convinced of God’s existence by a pretty powerful revelation,

(Silence)

S:   Sorry, I forgot. There is no reason for faith.

N: You must abdicate totally. You must be willing to roll in the mud for the Holy One Blessed be He,

S:   But, then, God damn it…, why should I have faith?

(Silence)

N: Good. Now listen to your heart, Think of the story.

S:   (pause) It hurts.

N   Right.

S:   I’m longing.

* “Seven Beggars,” trans. Dr. Arthur Green; in “Tormented Master A Life of Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav.” Schocken 1981. p. 301.