CREEDE HINSHAW: The inherent wisdom of Hasidic Jewish leaders

My devotional reading currently includes the late Elie Wiesel’s book “Souls on Fire: Portraits and Legends of the Hasidic Masters.” (Vintage Books, 1972) This paperback has been sitting on my shelf for decades; I probably purchased it (used) because of my deep appreciation for Elie Wiesel (1928-2016). Many readers will know Wiesel from having read his stirring, tragic, “Night,” his remembrance of the World War II concentration camps of Auschwitz and Buchenwald where he was interred as a boy and lost both his parents. Winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, Wiesel was internationally recognized.

Having never studied Hasidism, I have learned a lot about this branch of Judaism, which seems to have originated in Central Europe in the 1700s. The pioneering Hasidic leaders were inspiring, wise, courageous, energetic, cryptic and mysterious. Wiesel takes the reader on a tour of these men, describing their sometimes contradictory biographies, documenting their pronouncements and helping the reader visualize what Central Europe was like for the 18th century Jew. Wiesel describes engagingly the life and teachings of these bold men of Hasidism, none of whom I was familiar with.

“Hasidism,” according to the author, “does not fear contradictions; Hasidism teaches humility and pride, the fear of God and the love of God, the at once sacred and puerile dimension of life … contradictions are an intrinsic part of man.” (page 9) Wiesel also observes that Hasidism is an acknowledgement that a person may be a Jew in many ways. (page 31)

Such an approach to life and salvation has much appeal to me, but it could be anathema to those more conservative religious adherents, particularly in the Christian community, who insist on black and white answers, dogma and doctrine that are inerrant and unswerving, and behavior and morality that is clearly understandable.

Here are a few appealing nuggets from the book:

“Before Rebbe Zusia died, he said, “When I face the celestial tribunal, I shall not be asked why I was not Abraham, Jacob or Moses. I shall be asked why I was not Zusia.” (page 120)

“Infinitely naïve and pious, Rebbe Wolf of Zbaraj repeated every night before going to bed: ‘I revoke my right to all I possess; whatever belongs to me is no longer mine. In this way, no matter what thieves may carry away, they will not have violated the law.’”

The wisdom of these spiritual giants is very appealing in a time of much turmoil and anxiety. When people are demanding certainty, crying out for absolute winners and losers, and quick to label others as “evil,” Hasidic thought and practice would seem to take us in a very different direction. The Hasidic masters seem to be those who embraced God radically and totally while at the same time refusing to be trapped in the angst and bitterness of their age. We could use more of that today.