Soul Music

Today is Shabbat Shirah, the Sabbath of Song. We should have just heard the reading of Shirat Ha Yam, the Song of the Sea, the first recorded song in praise of G-d(had we had services). It is a song that is repeated not just today, but every day during Peseukei D’zimrah, as we commemorate that moment of encountering G-d’s presence at the Sea of Reeds when He parted the waters so we could reach safety while our enemies perished. We always stand when we hear the words read whether they are read daily during Peseukei D’zimrah or on this special Shabbat, because standing remind us that we too were part of that historic moment.

Hanah Estrin, a Koach fieldworker wrote, “In Mishnah Sotah 5:4, there is a disagreement between Nehemiah and Akiva as to exactly how the song was sung. Nehemiah states that Moses and the Israelites sang together, while Akiva holds that Moses sang a line which was then repeated by the community.”

We’ve all had times when we’ve experienced both models of song. Sometimes song is spontaneous. Everyone knows the words and raises their voices together. At such times the words and melody give rise to a feeling of unity. Sometimes we need someone to teach us the words and the tune. We listen and repeat trusting their ability to add richness to our lives. At such times, we have to be willing to open ourselves up to the experience otherwise the melody falls on deaf ears.

There’s no doubt in my mind that music and song are powerful. Prayer without music is just not as emotional as prayer uttered with a tune. Whether it is the haunting tune of the Kol Nidrei being uttered at the beginning of Yom Kippur, the melody of eicha being chanted on Tisha b’Av, or the sounds of Eytz Chayim He filling the sanctuary as we put away the Torah on Shabbat…each melody evokes a strong emotion.

Sometimes when I go to shul in Jerusalem, I notice how individuals allow the melodies to carry their souls upward. Eyes are often closed, bodies are swaying, and there is an intensity in the room as voices rise together. The davenners don’t need “Friday Night Live” instruments that have rehearsed their music to feel the joy of Shabbat or a closeness to one another and to G-d. True davenning is not akin to watching a concert and being entertained…it is about becoming part of the words and the melody in an attempt to reach G-d. It requires involvement, not passive listening nor watching others being involved if it is going to have the desired effect.

Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav felt that music and song are the most direct means for attaching oneself to G-d from this material world. One’s neshama (soul) has its own melody before making the descent into this world. Our physical existence covers up this original song with many layers of noise. As we begin the quest for self-understanding and closeness to G-d we are actually searching the world for our own hidden melody.

Last week we had a wonderful opportunity to hear a very intellectually stimulating lecture about the history of Jewish music. Yet it left many individuals in the audience feeling as if something were lacking. They wanted to actually hear music, to be wrapped up in the sounds of Jewish music that they felt would feed their souls, not just their intellect. In some ways, it could be compared to going to a Passover seder where only the words are read and the music is left behind. I can only imagine that such an experience would be little more than an intellectual endeavor. Joy and sadness, longing and hope are not mere intellectual endeavors…they require opening up our souls to G-d and to each other. ..and music can help us do all of those things.

A story is told about a Russian peasant who heard a melody being sung by a band of gypsies. The song captured his heart. So he spent time in their midst and tried to learn it. But when he left their presence, he discovered that the melody had not penetrated his soul enough to remain with him. So he returned to the forest, to the band of gypsies, and paid them a nice sum in order to have them teach him the tune. This time he sang it and sang it until the song filled his soul. Then when he left, he continued to sing the song over and over again continuously. His fellow townspeople thought he had lost his mind. So they took him to a retreat for rehabilitation. On the path he met a child. The child heard the tune and learned it right away. Then the Russian peasant stopped singing. The village Rabbi asked him, “Why have you stop singing now?” He replied, “Because a child knows the song now, and I know it will not die.”

Perhaps the key truths of Judaism are best transmitted through song…We can’t stop singing because it is our job to transmit those truths to the future generation. But unlike the Russian peasant who stopped singing because a child had learned the song, I would suggest that he should have continued his song along with the child. There is power when we share our passions with one another, when we strive for our ideals with one another, and when we let our souls reach out to one another through melodies. Shabbat Shira is really not just about one Shabbat on the calendar….it is about an approach to life, an approach that says, let your heart sing out to G-d and connect. Be one with your people, trust in the ultimate power of G-d, and be grateful for the times when you feel G-d’s presence in your life!