We are preparing a new book (THE MANUAL FOR NOVICES) for use by Tariqa members and over the coming months we hope to post first drafts of this book here. You can view the outline of the book on the sidebar, but you will find the PREFACE here , Chapter ONE here, and Chapter TWO here. Appendix A [which is a supplement to Chapter Two] is here.
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Chapter Three: The Simple Path
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| Photo: Be'er Ora, Israel (Michael Nixon.NZ) |
Introduction
The Path of the
Sufi has an inherent simplicity. It is focused on a single goal (intimacy with the Divine) and though it specifies the
detailed stages of the maqamat as its progressive system of
ethical asceticism it is nonetheless
devoid of complex intellectual
practices; preferring a focus on contemplation
and meditation that is often practiced without
the aid of courses of textual or academic study.
Yet classical Sufism is not anti-intellectual, nor is it so focussed on the soul's intimate relationship to the Divine that it shuns speculative theology, philosophy, or metaphysical cosmology; but it does have a marked predilection for the kind of quietist and receptive experiences that are reached through the exercise of Dhawq (taste).
This
word is used in both Islamic Sufism and in the seforim of R. Abraham ben HaRambam and
his son Obadyah to underline their belief that mere intellectual or philosophical attainment simply cannot, by
themselves, produce intimate access to the Divine in proximity or some form of union.
Dhawq
means taste and signifies intuition. The
Javanese musicians and mystics who were my friends and
teachers spoke of intuition as "rasa"; a word
which can describe both the
flavour of a sauce or
a meal, but also the intuitive and
perceptive instinct of one
who practices kebatinan (the
science and practice of inner
knowledge). Rasa (intuition,
instinctive understanding); Sugih tanpa banda (a knowledge that one
possesses but which was not
taught to one), Bertapa (quietist
receptivity in contemplative
solitude) were the generative
forms that I discovered whilst
living on Java in the 1990's
and which actually went some
way to produce the Simple
Method of prayer of the Maarat HaLev that I first began using
in 1992.
The intuitions and revelations experienced through Dhawq can sometimes seem to be
woolly and vague hints (highly appropriate when one
considers that the term "sufi" may describe woollen garments
worn by the aspirants) that are difficult to pin down or hold on to, and they may lack
the logical stages of more
organised reasoning, but they can be surprisingly pertinent and profound nevertheless. In Classical Islamic sufism, the
aspirant's focal practice is not Ilm (the kind
of knowledge reached by study, discussion, reasoning,
and texts) but Maarifa
(the experiential activity of drawing near to the Divine). Al Ghazali claimed
that Ilm was the act of
describing honey whereas Maarifa was the
experience of tasting it.
These considerations are highly significant because they are
the generators of the
Simplicity which I will
describe in this chapter.
From his
revered father, R. Abraham ben Ha Rambam learned (and certainly appreciated) the
value of the intellectual and the rational in the ascent through the maqamat—but he went
much further along a specifically
sufi-inspired path than did
his father by stressing the crucial necessity of both dhawq and maarifa (using
those precise words) in becoming a
"perfect human". Not as a replacement for study or intellectual striving, but as its ultimate crowning state of tahaqquq fi al-qalb (realisation within the heart). For him, for the Egyptian Hasidim, and for our Tariqa's
members: intellectual mysticism, by
itself, is not enough to reach the kind of knowledge
that Jewish-Sufis call gnosis/maarifa/wusul/prophecy.
In the Hawdiyya (Treatise of the Pool) R. Obadyah Maimuni makes dhawq (intuitive knowledge) and al-warid al-ilahi (the receptive influx of information from a Divine source) the very heart of his contemplative system.[1] His "perfected human" is one who has laboured to clear away all distraction and attachment and become receptive to the Divine influx. As in Al Ghazali's parallel pool image, [2] for R. Obadyah the soul of the aspirant is like a pool that must be cleared of the influx of the five senses in order to develop, as it were, a Divinely implanted Sixth sense. R Obadyah writes:
"It hath been repeatedly said to thee that
true devotion stemmeth from the heart… this is indeed the
goal of the exoteric Law…Few,
however, accomplish such a thing, whether
it be in prayer, in study, or in
listening to the reading of
the Torah. Indeed they occupy
themselves rather with serving that which distracteth them from His service,
and with knowing that which distracteth
them from this Knowledge."[3]
In his Murshid, R. David ben Joshua
expounds on the importance of Ilm
and of philosophical endeavour,
but he also writes:
"Know that in reality,
there is no possibility of attaining the bliss of mystics and lovers which is
the encounter with God in the afterlife, unless one has known love (mahabba)
and intimacy (Uns) with the Supreme Being in this world. This state is
usually only achieved through gnosis, and
this gnosis can only be achieved through meditation and contemplative prayer (dhikr)."[4]
In a
manuscript written in his own
hand R. David states:
"Beware
lest you read from my words
[describing gnosis] that this philosophy or
wisdom is derived from the Peripatetics or others. Nay! I have in mind rather the adepts of spiritual training (riyada) who
have discovered in their solitary
devotions (khalwat) that which leads from the couch to the
Throne.
They have
certain knowledge and are not niggardly with it but instruct in the wayfaring of
the path that leads to God. Your
knowledge of that is knowledge indeed,
and all other knowledge deriving from
the famous philosophers is false."[5]
Consequently, in the light
of these statements and my
commentary on them, the sufi path is, of
its nature, a Simple Path: a Derech Ha Temimut –free of
excesses in its stated aims and streamlined in its practices; a path which is
followed inside the receptive mind and
heart of the individual aspirant, seeking a private experience of contact with G-d.
oooOooo
Each “school” of mysticism or spirituality has
its own particular “path”— usually derived from
the actual experiences of its founders and leading
members, and almost always rooted in what they consider
to be an ancient tradition. This is as true of
the Jews who formed our Pietist movement in Mediaeval Cairo, as it
is of the Safed Kabbalists, the Christian Desert Fathers,
Carmelites, and Carthusians—or of the Sufis of Islam. In
Christian practice these variations produced the formation of
clerical and monastic religious Orders—each designed to focus on a
particular aspect of religious life and perform it mehadrin ha
mehadrin for the benefit of the whole. So, for
example, the Jesuits were founded to perfect the intellectual
approach; the Dominicans to focus on polemics and theology, the
Carthusians and Carmelites on the contemplative. Each
of those Orders attracts people with personalities, one might say souls,
that are in synch with the vision of each Order's founder. The
various Islamic Sufi Orders display an almost identical rationale
for their varied specialisms and membership catchment.
That Juan de la Cruz, Rabbenu David
ben Joshua Maimuni, Ibn Arabi, and Rumi should share the same (or
very similar) spiritual experiences should not be
surprising— as each of them was trying to meet the same G-d seen
through different lenses. The generator of their similar
experiences was not so much an ancestral or tribal
culture or a monolithic mesorah, but their personal
experience of contact with the Divine: the
only True Teacher, whatever language, text, or
method might have been used as a
medium of communication and instruction.
Some founders of these
“schools” leant heavily on traditional texts and methods. Others made their
connection to ancient practice rather more symbolic and, being less afraid of
innovation, they might take a basic traditional principle and then develop it
using their creative (and sometimes inspired) imagination.
Whatever recourse to historical memory that
their founders may have had, and whatever proportion of
re-imagining or free creative renewal they may have applied to source
material— each Kabbalistic School, Sufi Tariqa, or
Christian monastic Order has its own distinct focus
and methods—an ethos and a set of principles
and practices (Adab) which it encourages its members to use
and promote as a way to develop their own truly personal and
individual journey. Tariqa Eliyahu is no exception to
this general rule.
In Tariqa Eliyahu HaNabi, we
are developing the
Egyptian Hasidic path and not
merely attempting to replicate
it. And we aim to develop it in a very
specific direction with a very specific ethos.
The core of that "ethos" is based on two principal sources: the example of the Mediaeval Egyptian Pietists and the Kuntres Maarat HaLev of the Order's founder.[6] We refer to them here as The Special Path (Suluk al-Khass) and The Simple Path (Derech Ha Temimut). Our reliance on the former source will have been self-evident from the earlier chapters of this Manual, but the latter statement needs some unpacking and that will follow later in this chapter. In a sense it is the removal of a veil—because it is in this chapter that I make the connection between these two sources explicit for the very first time.
The Egyptian Hasidic Era and Our own—
A comparison in motivational
impetus:
The reforms that R. Abraham ben HaRambam's group made in liturgy and synagogue comportment were a reformist
reaction to the overly casual and
superficial modes of worship that they witnessed in the mainstream synagogues of the time. The deeply contemplative focus
and the active quest for
spiritual intimacy with the Divine (that
they believed had been preserved in Islamic Sufism) was the remedy that they hoped would be the
cure for the ailing spirituality of their Jewish
compatriots.
During the mediaeval period, the Hasidim of Cairo and Northern Egypt looked towards Islamic Sufism
for guidance and stimulation. They found
it in abundance during the Mamluk era because at that time Islamic Sufism was
very much in the ascendant.
With its strong similarities to both
the ancient Jewish ecstatic/prophetic tradition, and its focus on
contemplative activity, Islamic Sufism
gave a kick-start to the reformist
energies of these pious Cairene Jews,
enabling them to take the best of what they saw and learnt from the
mystics of Islam, filter it through a strict halachic lens, and then
incorporate it into their new-old
system of Jewish spiritual
activity.
Then, as now, there are Jews who
want to make the communal liturgy more beautiful and more conducive to the development of individual reflection; who seek to go
the extra mile in the observance of all the ethical and ritual commandments; and who
(above all) wish to develop their personal and private contemplative
devotions, some of them to the point where they may lose the self in order to find
G-d. These people are not spiritually
inebriated New-Agers, they are serious and observant Jews (from all
denominations and none)
whose souls ache to encounter G-d personally privately, and
intimately—not just in the obligatory world of formal community liturgy
and educational-social gatherings. The Still
Small Voice can be heard in such
environments, to be sure, but It can
also be marginalised or even drowned-out
by cliquey-frippery and (sometimes sloppy and irreverent) bustle, or It can be
swamped and overwhelmed in an obsessive-compulsive clatter of holy-verbiage.
To those Jews who are more attracted to
the Torah of the
Heart, the hidden core of its
message, and the soul of
its soul, these obstacles to
contemplative engagement are
exasperating and are experienced as something
"missing or forgotten"
in our contemporary Judaism. To the contemplative Jew, mainstream Jewish practice sometimes seems to be overly focussed on dry legal studies and on external
forms of observance. That is not a statement made in any spirit of antinomian
criticism of the (biblically commanded) need for both profound study and for mehadrin observances—but
it is a statement that suggests the balance between the external and the
interior Duties of the
Heart has become unstable and represents something "lost".
In the last seventy years or so, within Judaism, popular kabbalistic and spirituality-based movements have burgeoned globally in response to the devotional lacuna such people felt in many congregational and denominational settings. As an encouraging result of this, many contemporary Jewish meditational groups now exist to develop the philosophic and contemplative tools which may hasten the biblically promised return of ruah hakodesh (inspiration) and nevuah (prophecy).
But many of them are focussed on psychosomatic or therapeutic techniques and
activities to promote a somewhat
hedonistic yet spiritualised sense of "Wellbeing", and
many spend as much time on theosophical or cosmological speculation
and dogma as they do on simply doing
any private and unguided meditation. In this I am reminded of my own teacher's admonition that "it
is better to talk to G-d than to
talk about Him." [7] To that I would add, "and it is better to listen to
what He has to say than merely to talk at
Him."
Our contemporary Jews are often
raised on a diet of pre-prepared Take-Away Torah-Snacks
that can be delivered across the globe
within seconds. They are often sent in disposable packaging that is hurriedly
consumed on the move, as it were; the sustenance barely retained and
then the packaging quickly consigned to a dust-bin of forgetfulness as
one moves on to search for yet another mystical fast-food snack. Consumers of this type often hope their obsessive intellectual or purely
literary gourmandising will satisfy their
hungry search for answers to theological or philosophical
questions; questions that a sufi would
claim are actually unanswerable.
The
more gullible amongst us seek texts
and courses that will employ various kinds of therapeutic, ritual, or
psychiatric magic to do most of the work
of a "seeker" for them. Others
amongst them gain much of their
"gnosis" from spurious celebrities, or from an (as yet) immature A.I.
that misinforms or over-simplifies.
Others are hooked on amassing
libraries or attending classes that promise
easy fixes to spiritual growth through decidedly terrestrial means but actually
impede the ascent of the soul.
All of these are often merely
diversions from the more boring and more arduous task of plodding along the desert path of exposure to the Divine in solitary
contemplation. They are distractions that often confuse, or worse, they purport to offer
certain success and delude the well-meaning but credulous into thinking they
have found The
Answer To Their Problems or The
Cure-all for their ailments. Their reliance on complex and speculative
theosophy, formulae, and arcane practices
can resemble a figurative and hypothetical London Taxi-driver who spends his or
her life memorising the routes
of The Knowledge without ever getting into the driver's seat of the cab to turn on the ignition.
The texts and methods of Jewish Spirituality and Mysticism have to be experienced
first-hand if they are to lead to
the type of gnosis they describe or
promote. No book, library, course, or human teacher can do that for us. Reading books or attending lectures about
prayer and mysticism can help enormously if we understand their limitations
and their role as sign-posts
not destinations; as garments
and not The One they enclothe. They
may also resemble the stabilising
rear bicycle-wheels or the
baby-bouncer of the toddler—both devices
that become inappropriate with the
onset of maturity.
They are like a road map that only
shows the route taken by others: a route which may be of general assistance but which might require a
vehicle, a strong pair of walking boots, or the money to pay a toll-fee once one has decided to follow the map.
Each traveller has their own resources and mode of travel and
these too must be taken into
account.
One
of the common dangers of embarking
on a path of Jewish meditation or mystical
practice is that the practitioner
might develop a
"librarian-mentality" whereby the soul is deceived into
thinking that progress correlates to the
number of books on one's (physical or spiritual)
shelf; the number of arcane practices or concepts it thinks it can master; or the frenetic devouring of texts
describing assumed knowledge about prayer or about G-d when
both are matters that are ultimately matters of
mystery. Intellectual curiosity can lead one down a
labyrinth of arcane hoohah. Ascetic spiritual auto-eroticism can be the
ultimate hedonism of Mystical
"experience" that in no way leads to an encounter with the Divine Other.
On the
spiritual path, books and texts are potential teachers, friends,
and companions whose value is well
appreciated. There is even a
tradition in Sufism (and one which I have
experienced myself) whereby a book can even be one's Uwaysi murshid—but they are ultimately
the
menu or the seasoning and not the
meal itself. One must "Taste
and see that the Lord is
good"--not merely read the recipe-books.[8]
In Tariqa Eliyahu, we are promoting
something that is very much hands-on. It
is also something that is stoically
challenging and demanding; an attitude that shuns distractions and props, and which aims to place the
soul of the aspiring sufi on a
track that only they can walk.
We do not promote cosmological theories or manipulations, nor do
we provide answers to philosophical conundra or solutions to life's challenges. We certainly do not offer a system of
psychological therapy or spiritual security and certainty.
Instead we hope to encourage and develop a space in the deepest part of the soul that G-D ALONE can fill. The space that some call a barzakh and which I choose to call the Cave of the Heart.[9] A space in which we can hope to know Him intimately and be taught a curriculum that He has prepared specifically and uniquely for each one of us.
The Torah was, and still is,
given to All Israel in an individually personalised manner according to
ones' potential and calling—at the foot
of a
mountain,on its lower reaches, or near its summit: All of us together but each one of
us alone.[10]
In Tariqa Eliyahu, we are promoting
a specifically Sufic approach whereby the silence itself and
the solitude itself becomes the
teacher on the contemplative path
for it is
only in that intimate silence that G-d speaks to us Heart to heart (as it were).
This attitude is precisely what the
Cairene Pietists witnessed, imitated,
and promoted above all else. They (and we) express this attitude in the dual
practices of Khalwa-Hitbodedut and Dhikr-Hazkarah. We offer them as a remedy
for the addiction or dependence on the celebrity razzamatazz and psycho-spiritual
dopamine that is spoon-fed, in our own era, to G-d-seeking Jews both online and off.
The Path of the Jewish Sufi is a slow
and careful ascent and not a bungy-jump spiritual joyride. It
is no mistake that the mystics compare the progress of a would-be gnostic
to mountain climbing—not an activity for the passive, occasional, or casual engagement of a
spiritual tourist. It
attracts a certain kind of Jew: one who is fired by what can only be described as
an ache to be connected to G-d and to be of use to Him after the model of our
biblical prophets and the
contemplative communities they founded
in the spirit of Elijah.
As is born out in the writings of Abraham and Obadyah Maimuni, the formation of Jewish Sufi Convents was part of the projected plan for the movement. These Khanqas were to be set up to house permanent "batlanim" living as congregational hermits (in cells but attending prayer and recitation meetings in common.) We already have Yeshivas and Kolels where male Jews study Halacha and the Oral Torah in great depth. We already have observant Jews attending formal daily liturgies with great devotion.
But where are our contemporary
Hermitages and Convents for the minority
of Jews who are called to focus on the
Torah of the Heart—what R. Obadyah Maimuni called the Torah
al-Haqiqiyya (the True Torah)?
In Knesset
Yisrael the former elements of our
many-faceted Torah have been well
practiced: but can we say the same for the
contemplative practices of Moses
and Elijah in mountaintop caves, of
Joshua in the Tent of Meeting outside the camp, of
Nadav and Abihu whose
message may have once been out of order, but pertinent for
our very own time. In Kuntres
Maarat HaLev I made a veiled reference to this situation when I wrote:
"Israel’s response at Sinai was, and is: “We will do and we will
hear.” That is most often interpreted with the meaning: Israel hears G-d’s
voice by observing the commandments—that the practical action of observing the
mitzvot leads to spiritual understanding. That is most certainly true. But a
complementary interpretation occurs to me. I’m absolutely certain that there
are no accidents:
It surely must be of primary significance that the first commandment in
the principal text of Judaism, is Sh’ma! — Listen! — Judaism has been focussed
for centuries on ‘doing’. But the time is coming when the significance of
‘listening’ will grow in importance."
Kuntres
Maarat HaLev page 57
Actually.....What I was referring to was my intuition that the time
is now ripe for a switch in focus—a restoration of the intended balance between the practices of Study and Contemplation. I was
stating my view that, in the current
stage of Judaism's progress: almost
all of our spirituality has been devoted
to liturgy and studying, and that now we
should also be developing our skills in
receptive contemplative prayer. Not to
replace Torah study or halachic practices: but to develop their long-neglected
adjunct: the profound engagement of each
Israelite with the Torah of the Heart. In 2005, at the time I
wrote those words, I was unaware that
this view was also held by R. Abraham Ibn Abi l’Rabi(d.1223) and the
Egyptian Jewish-Sufis.
Our Yeshivas are full to bursting with those who walk the rabbinic path of study and debate; our Synagogues are full of those walking the "Common Path" of halachic observance and congregational liturgy.
Where
are today's trainee prophets?
They are those who sit in the Cave of Elijah and those who climb their own interior Mount Carmel or Mount Horeb in solitude and contemplation. A minority, for sure—but an essential minority in the Community of Israel's heart. And in our Tariqa we hope to offer them a home.
The Derech HaTemimut
(Simple Path)
All Sufi orders follow the perspective of the founder. Our
members hold many contrasting and divergent allegiances in philosophy and
praxis: some of them diametrically opposed. Consequently, in
forming the aims and practices of our
Tariqa I sought to avoid internal
conflicts by stressing that our path
should be inclusive and that its brief should be so simple that all members could
submit to its gentle and open-ended directives.
Nevertheless it is my duty as the Order's Administrative Murshid [10] to ensure that members are aware of the direction in which I intended (and still intend) the Tariqa to function. This involves a certain allegiance to the Maimonidean approach to Judaism; to our renewal of the Sufi approach to contemplative activity as described and practiced by the later Maimunis and their circle; but also to my own approach as the Order's founder. This approach was first expressed in Kuntres Maarat HaLev.
In a nutshell: that simple approach involves (i) a silent and receptive attentiveness to G-d, (ii) that is focussed on G-d and not on the practitioner.
In Sufi terms, the former is Khalwa and the latter is Dhikr.
The term Derech Ha Temimut applies most especially to this unique understanding of both Khalwa and Dhikr. They are the principle devotional activities of our Tariqa, and our simple method of ascent.
As you will see later in this chapter, that method is very simply presented in Kuntres Maarat HaLev. The method given there does not involve complex kavanot; multiple mantras that must be used; set instructions on breathing or posture; tables of letter permutation; or meditational guidelines and texts that are to be followed. It is stripped down, streamlined, uncluttered, personalized, and open-ended.
The two fundamental practices of the Egyptian Jewish-Sufis were Hitbodedut-Khalwa and Hazkara-Dhikr.
With
regard to Khalwa, though the term refers to various levels
of reclusion it also clearly indicated a simple form of silent contemplation. In both forms it
is a spartan adjunct (and perhaps, on occasion, even an alternative) to congregational worship and community meetings. You will find
that same approach expressed in Kuntres Maarat HaLev in spades.
With regard to Dhikr, a term which refers both to ritual mantra recitation and to a "Mindfulness of the Divine Presence"—Though we do not have a detailed description of the precise kind of Dhikr ceremonies that may have been part of the Egyptian Pietists practice, we can be absolutely certain from what we do have that reflection and meditation on the Divine Names and the cultivation of a permanently active "remembrance of G-d" are the final goal of the Jewish-Sufi path. Dhikr recitation is a simple approach because it is a stripped-down form of liturgy in which the "text" may be just one phrase or even just one word. [12]
The Order was founded to renew the Jewish Sufi Pietist movement of
the mediaeval era— but at its deepest level—its purpose was, and
is, to promote the contemplative ethos and practices that were
presented in "Kuntres Maarat HaLev: The Cave of The Heart" in 2005. Some of the
Tariqa's members have joined us because of a previous Maimonidean
or a Sufi connection. Some
because they were seeking a
simpler spiritual and contemplative practice than those they had previously
been following—but the majority of our members joined after reading Kuntres
Maarat Ha Lev.
It must also be said here that the Tariqa, as I envisage it, does not focus on or actively promote the Spanish, Lurianic, or Safedian kabbalah. The sefirotic system of theosophy, and the notions of tzimtzum, unification of the Shekhina, and the practice of mystical kavanot and manipulations were not a part of the corpus of writings produced by any of the Maimunis or the Egyptian Hasidim.
It should be understood that our focus in Tariqa Eliyahu does not follow this path but follows instead (i) the simpler contemplative and mystical models of the later Maimunis and their Circle, (ii)the bare curricular outlines of the Biblical Prophetic Schools; and (iii) the stripped-down receptive and intuitive spirituality presented in the founder's Maarat HaLev.
In their private meditations and in other groups that they have
joined, salikun of the
Tariqa are free to be devoted to
other paths in Judaism including the
Classical and Kabbalistic, but such equally respected Jewish systems in meditation should not be
replicated either in our common practice or
at our meetings. The same
applies to the specific theologies and
philosophies of the Rambam [13] or the Abulafians.[14] Both have
elements of sufic thought and
practice, but they are not the
focus of our own distinct Derech
HaTemimut.
The Tariqa was created because (somewhat
late in the day around 2022) I recognised a profound similarity
between the path I had described in Kuntres Maarat HaLev and
(i)the Islamic Sufi Path; and (ii) the path of
the Kifaya, the Murshid, the Hawwdiya,
and the writings of Abraham HeHasid. Paramount amongst those
related elements was my belated
discovery that the functional goal of the Maarat
HaLev is exactly the same as that of the
Egyptian Hasidic movement, namely: an intentional preparation for
the return of prophecy.
In both the Egyptian Jewish-Sufi texts and in
the Kuntres Maarat HaLev the term "return of
prophecy" does not simply mean the return of a group of
"Prophets" to lead Israel, it means a state of ruah ha
kodesh that will eventually be shared by everyone under the
sun.(Zechariah 14:9).
In this context
it is
highly significant that we are
named the Tariqa "of Eliyahu HaNabi". We are
pioneering a focused attempt to prepare the
"return" of a simple but powerful contemplative ability that
has been largely discarded by many Jews
who have made ritual and law
their all-consuming and sole focus, relegating
intensive and pietistic
contemplative activity to a role as an optional element in their
purview.
It is said that the return of Eliyahu the prophet will unite fathers and sons. (Malachi 3: 23-24) One might interpret that as a reference to the universal kind of Gilui Eliyahu that we aim to
prepare for in our Order: that the
time for a synthesis of the paths of
both the
"old" rabbinical sage and the "young/new"
neo-Nazirite is now—A time when "Your sons and daughters
will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions".
(Yoel 2:28).
I will go further than that today by revealing
that it was ever my conviction that the
return of Eliyahu HaNabi was the
precise mission for which Tariqa Eliyahu was created: For I
believe that it is
by the promulgation of
attentive and receptive prayerfulness to the Still Small Voice that Malachi's
"Elijah" may actually "return" to Israel (as an archetypal and angelic metaphor) and indeed to All the Worlds.
I have always taken the notion of Elijah's
return to be metaphorical, and
believe that Tariqa Eliyahu's
members should be part of the
vanguard that heralds that renaissance :
"Ultimately we are destined to become a
nation of prophets. If that is to become an imminent reality, there has to be
somebody listening. The parallel development of contemplative lifestyles and
contemplative prayer in the life of all Jews might go some way towards making
sure that those ‘listeners’ are in place."
Kuntres Maarat HaLev page 56
In what sense are
we "Elijan"?
In the Cave where the biblical Elijah listened
to a fragile "voice", and under Divine tuition alone, it took
Elijah the Prophet some time to see that it is
necessary to quell the turmoil of over-zealous activity and
simply be still before one can "know" G-d.
(Psalm 46:10).
At the moment
of revelation in the cave of his heart, after a lifetime of commendable
but somewhat violent activism—it was only when he was shown that he
needed to stand still for a while and actually let G-d get
a word in edgeways. ( I Kings:19) that his mission as an archetype
could begin. Twice in the biblical
narrative he repeated a catalogue
of what he had done in his zeal, but the earthquake
and wind and even fire were not the
place of his true encounter (wusul)—That true maqom
was finally understood to be the empty space that was then created in the cave
of his heart.
This is a very
uncluttered and streamlined realisation and
it is the prime model for any system calling itself a Derech Ha Temimut.
In Tariqa Eliyahu we walk an Elijan path as
his disciples by turning away from
self-promotion, mystical distractions, and compulsive spiritual or
scholarly tourism by making a "vacated space" in the soul's
Cave of the Heart, a state in which one can begin
to listen to the Divine Voice.
Our Tariqa specialises in promoting this
very Elijan path. Referring to I Kings:19:10-12, one might
express it like this:
*Our Tariqa is
Elijan in the sense that it avoids the EARTHQUAKE of
religious conflict caused by partisan bigotism or proselytism (to a
particular Jewish sect or theosophical stance).
*It is Elijan
in the sense that it avoids the WIND of argument
and ratiocination and chatter in its spiritual courtyards and
replaces them with silence, a shiviti consciousness,[15] and with individual and communal hitbodedut/hitbonenut.
*It is Elijan
in the sense that it avoids the FIRE of certain
"inebriated" forms of religious or sufic practice and
prefers "sober" and reflective ones.
*It is Elijan
because it recognizes the pre-eminence of the fragile and interior STILL
SMALL VOICE that is the unique form of tuition that G-d alone
can give.[16]
oooOooo
Kuntres Maarat HaLev presents a
form of spiritual practice that is not overly intellectual
or pre-occupied with minutely detailed theology or philosophy, that does
not focus on study or discussion—but which does focus on the
privately experienced relationship of the soul with the
Divine, and with the Judeo-Sufic contemplative practices of
silence, solitude, and receptive meditation so dear to both the classical Islamic Sufis
and the Jewish Egyptian Hasidim.
In 2005, this is how I introduced the
"Simple Path" in Kuntres Maarat HaLev itself:
"Our
kabbalistic tradition has formulated many beautiful and complex prayers and
meditations composed around the Shem Havayah and around the permutations
of this and other ‘Names’ of G-d. They are all above my pay-grade, as it
were. I have similarly been dazzled and gripped by
lines extracted from the Zohar but almost all the classical forms,
analyses, and systems of kabbalistic meditation are just too complex and
intellectual for me. They may well be so for you too. If you are reading this
book hoping for some insight into such meditational techniques you will be
disappointed— what I am sharing in this book is extremely simple….. my instinct
tells me there are others out there who may actually need to read these words.
It is a method for those who are fired by what can only be described as an ache
to be connected to G-d and to be of use to Him, but whose psychological or intellectual
inadequacies make the ascent of Mount Carmel or Mount Horeb necessary by a less
travelled side-path. It is a simple path, but in no sense is it an easy
short cut—and travelling on it can often be boringly uneventful."
Kuntres Maarat
HaLev page 9
Kuntres Maarat HaLev's first
reference to this "Derech HaTemimut" was further developed
here:
"The
esoteric systems and complex meditation practices of the kabbalists, the
deeply intellectual forms of hitbonenut proposed by the Chabad
hasidim, and the frequently cathartic expressions of hitbodedut practiced
by Breslover hasidim are beyond the scope of this little book.
There are several reasons for this. As I have indicated, I am
neither a scholar nor a rabbi. I am not qualified or experienced
enough to make deep analytical comment on these jewels in Judaism’s
contemplative crown. You can find shelves full of books which deal with
these subjects by many gifted authors without too much effort.
But the main
reason you will not find them, or theosophy, or theurgy, or self improvement
methods discussed here is because I am presenting a somewhat
simpler path—a path for those whose primary focus is to seek intimacy with G-d,
and maybe to become a selfless channel for His activity in this world.
This is the
aim of anyone who would draw near to G-d hoping to receive the spirit of ruach
hakodesh that approaches prophecy, and I believe this to be the core tachlit (aim/goal)
of all prayer in the Cave of the Heart."
Kuntres Maarat
HaLev page 19
The basic contemplative practice of the Derech HaTemimut is described as follows:
"The method of
contemplative prayer I am recommending in this kuntres is very simple. All we
need to do is sit down in solitude and silence, put ourselves in G-d’s
Presence, and attempt to relate to Him in some focussed way. It may involve the
words of a set prayer or not. It may involve reflection on a text or a
concept—or not. It may involve a search for meaning in a particular
life-situation—or not. But whatever form that hitbonenut/hitbodedut
might take there are two things that make the method I am promoting special.
Firstly: It is not about us, but about Him. It is an attempt to be present
before G-d and in G-d for its own sake. Secondly: It is an attempt to be so
intentionally and profoundly attentive that our contemplation becomes an
opportunity to listen for, and maybe even hear, the Divine Voice itself."
Kuntres Maarat
HaLev page 30
A particularly recommended contemplative
practice is then presented as a simple method of emptying the soul
to make space for the influx of inspiration.
"In order to meet G-d in private contemplation,
we really only need to do one simple thing:
We need to make some time to be with Him Alone
and give Him our undivided and loving attention.
Contemplative Prayer is giving G-d a chance to speak
to us/do something to us.
It is not about us, it’s about Him.
The method is simply:
Stand or sit in His Presence; Make space inside
yourself for Him to act; Then listen with focus to whatever He may have to say
to you, personally and individually.
That’s it.
Yes…. That’s all of it."
Kuntres Maarat
HaLev page 31
Later, the following advice is given:
"What I have suggested
is extremely simple: During private prayer, ask G-d to speak to you and then
wait in humble silence to let Him respond. It is possible that you may only be
able to hold your attention on listening out for Him to ‘speak’ for a minute
or so before you lose concentration. But it is also possible (sometimes after
years of making this effort) that you may find yourself standing there waiting
for many minutes— or even hours—and cannot account for the time passing. But
believe me, the Voice of Sinai is calling—if only we would listen. Our effort
to do so may often seem to fail but we are commanded in the Sh’ma we recite
daily to at least try. And try again."
Kuntres Maarat
HaLev page 36
And then the stern warning:
"One who begins such a
contemplative practice needs determination and perseverance—I have known many
years when, despite standing in receptive silent prayer regularly (sometimes
for hours) most days of each week, I have felt/heard/seen absolutely nothing that
I could identify as being a response of any kind whatsoever. Please read that
last sentence again—it is really important."
Kuntres Maarat
HaLev page 47
Readers
will be familiar with the notion of
apophatic Theology whereby one accepts
that one cannot say anything
definitively precise about the nature of G-d's Essence. By now I hope
you will realise that the Derech
HaTemimut is actually a kind of Apophatic Spirituality. Though preparation
and struggle and personal effort are
called for, Salikun on this path are
content to let G-d take the reins and do not attempt to prompt, cajole,
define, manipulate,or delineate any aspect of
the Divinity they might encounter, or think they may have
encountered. This is
the paradox of the system of the Maarat
HaLev:
The intimacy of contemplative practice is expressed in periods of eternal gazing and unfulfilled longing—in briefly glimpsed bursts and flashes of encounter—or in periods of exertion to achieve a union despite an almost total loss of vision. It is a path which expresses the paradox that the contemplative is in a passionate relationship with an immanent G-d, while simultaneously knowing the otherness of G-d and the chasm produced by His transcendence.
This then is my outline exposition of the
"Simple Path" at
the heart of our Tariqa's practice. Its focus is receptive
contemplative prayer, undertaken ideally
in solitude, and its tachlit is a
total Sufic cleaving to the Divine through constant remembrance that the Maimuni's called the state of "prophecy".
oooOooo
Some related aspects of our Simple Path
The term "Derech Ha Temimut" could equally well refer to the simplification of matters of dogma and philosophy[17] that I have chosen to employ in order to enable and sustain unity in diversity within the Tariqa itself.
In creating Tariqa Eliyahu HaNabi it was my aim to bring together
religious and
observant Jews from all denominations
and from all colours in the spectrum of Judaism's various
mystical and philosophical systems—all under the banner of co-existence. It seemed to me that
this could best be achieved if our core practices
focused on simplicity and on silent
unguided meditation rather than on
lectures, debates, and discussions.
As mentioned above, Tariqa Eliyahu has
members from many Jewish denominations and sects with distinct
and sometimes conflicting ways. They are Jews who are Breslovers or
Chabadniks; Neo-Maimonidean rationalists; Kabbalistic practitioners; Litvish
Jews, Askenazic, Sefardic; and Mizrahi Jews; Jews whose Jewish Sufi practice
involves membership of other Sufi Orders and those whose bond is
solely with Tariqa Eliyahu; Jews who love
the Zohar and the mysticism of the
Ari—and those who really and emphatically do not; Jews who have had Islamic
or Innayati initiation and those who have not, as well as those who
would never consider undergoing such initiation : So how can it be
said that every one of the Tariqa Eliyahu
members follow this same Path of Simplicity?
Firstly: These members all share two
things: (i) As aspiring Jewish Sufis (for whom the state of
"perplexity" is the humble yet enlightened acceptance of one's
inability to declare total certainty) they don’t proselytize for their own
denomination or insist their own views are the only correct ones;
and (ii) they are in synch with the basic Derech HaTemimut of
The Cave of the Heart. The focus there is on
practice not theory: Simple contemplative, silent, and receptive
prayer—with no teacher but G-d—All can subscribe to that.
Secondly: As mentioned earlier, Tariqa members are totally free to
follow their own chosen paths alongside that of Tariqa
Eliyahu. For this reason a Neo-Maimonidean rationalist may
spend their private meditational time engaged in philosophical
reflection while still following the sufic (and later
Maimuni) tenet that philosophic knowledge only scratches the surface of a
knowledge of The Reality—that "dhawq" and the
intuitive gnosis of "wusul" alone can reach. An Abulafian or
Kabbalistic practitioner may spend their private meditation time engaged
in complex permutational activity, but they can always remember the Sufic
and Maimuni tenet that such intellectual (or even theurgic) systems are
guides to focus and not guaranteed methods to attain enlightenment by our
own efforts. Above all, they know that our khalwa experience
takes place silently and privately in the hearts of each individual
practitioner, and there die gedanken sind frei.
Thirdly: there are built-in factors within
the structure of our meetings that ensure freedom of personal
activity, even in a congregational setting. At our meetings, we do not share our extra-mural spiritual predilection
with other members (in the manner of a
missionary or as polemic) during congregational prayer meetings. When
congregated in the zawiyya for prayer, that prayer
should occupy 99.9% of the agenda anyway. We have a monthly
meeting where we discuss and socialise, but at our weekly
meetings there is minimal conversation or none at all.
Our Silent Dhikr at those
meetings is never formalized. There is no adherence to any method or
particular practice other than the Maarat HaLev's "attentive
listening" to the Divine—in whatever form the
member might envisage that. An
essay on Dhikr from our website expresses
it like this:
"
This silent dhikr is an unguided activity during
which members are free: to engage in acts of worship and petition; to
practice combinations of their own preferred yogic or
meditational systems; to silently recite or meditate on texts or Names; to
engage in a discussion with their inner selves; to pray for others; to
examine their lives and sort-out their problems; and also— to
attempt to empty their minds and hearts to make room for G-d.
That last possibility may be termed the Dhikr of Silence."
And our handout for visitors
attending our meetings expresses it as follows:
"We hope to bring
together local contemplatives (and would-be contemplatives) from all
streams of Judaism and of Israeli society: streams whose members
can so often be shockingly antagonistic, dismissive, or intolerant of
one another. In these times of denominational, sectarian, racial, and political
turmoil in Israel (and globally) it is hoped that by
keeping shared contemplative silence, all religious, sectarian, racial, or
political differences may be shelved (however briefly) by the commonly shared
desire to be personally attentive to the ‘Voice of G-d’
within all of us."
Like the spectrum of Light itself—each wavelength has its own character—but our members should see their personal character or sectarian colour as contributory components of that Single Light and not as the only colour or as the best. This is the attitude of a polite and considerate Sufi and it is the one I hope to encourage in our meetings and in our practice generally, for ultimately Derech Eretz kadma l'Torah (Good Manners walks/goes before Torah).[18]
Consequently, the Simplicity of our inclusive ethos and praxis becomes a healing and
unifying principle and one with implications for the generation of peaceful coexistence in our troubled world that can reach far beyond
the Khalwa cell or the Zawiyya of our gatherings.
oooOooo
For now,
in this Manual, I believe
this is all I need to say about
the Simple Path. Salikun of the
Order are directed to the Kuntres Maarat HaLev if they wish to read a little more.[19]
Better still, simply put this book down for
a while and think about what you
have read so far in this chapter.
Nachman Davies
Safed
March 8th 2026
[1] See Fenton.P., The Treatise of the Pool: Al-Maqala al-Hawdiyya (London: The Octagon Press, 1981) p 91 where the Divine Influx (referred to as Living Waters) is not attained like the knowledge of Solomon or the Sages: it is given. For this reason, in the Shemoneh Esreh the Blessing of Knowledge states that knowledge, understanding, and discernment are "graciously bestowed" by G-d and not merely something we can attain ourselves by study alone.
[2] Ihya iii:I p.20 in "The Marvels of the Heart: Science of the Spirit" (Ihya Ulum Al-Din), trans. WJ. Skellie,Fons Vitae,p.32
[3] Fenton.P, "The Treatise of the Pool: Al-Maqala
al-Hawdiyya", p. 115
[4] Fenton, P, "Deux traités de mystique juive", Lagrasse: Éditions Verdier, 198), p.256
[5] From a letter in the Cairo Geniza, discovered and translated by Professor P. Fenton: MS NLR Yevr.-Arab (formerly II Firk. Yevr.-Arab) ii 2170
[6] Kuntres Maarat HaLev (The Cave of the Heart) is a very a short book that was written in 2005 but only published as a hardcopy book in 2022. It is written to encourage a positive attitude towards solitary contemplative lifestyles in Judaism, and it aims to promote the practice of a "prophetic" kind of receptive prayer by all Jewish contemplatives whatever their status or lifestyle might be.
[7] Rabbi Lionel Blue paraphrasing St Rose of Lima.
[8] Psalm 34:9
[9] I first discovered the term "barzakh" when reading about Ibn Arabi in 2022, and was amazed that the meaning of this term in Sufi mysticism is very close indeed to my 2005 description of the State/Place I called the "Cave of the Heart" at the start of Kuntres Maarat HaLev.
[10] This opinion follows the Rambam's as stated in the Moreh Ha Nevuchim II:32 and is also discussed by Abraham ben Ha Rambam in his Commentary on Exodus 20:1 and on Exodus 19:9. (See E.Russ Fishbane p188.)
[11] The founder of Tariqa Eliyahu is the author of this manual: Aharon Nachman ben Abraham (Nachman Davies). He is described as the Murshid in so far as he generated the path of the order and guides its members in the observance of its ethos and adab. In no sense does this title imply that he has attained any advanced level of Sufic gnosis and he does not guide members as a formal spiritual director or mentor. In matters of their own personal progress, members are encouraged to consult their own private and confidential spiritual directors from within or outside the Tariqa. Ultimately, as is frequently stated in our documents, that teaching role belongs solely to G-d and not the Order's Murshid. (This is another of the factors which makes the Order's place in the world of Sufism quite unique.)
[12] The idea of continuous "inner prayer" using mantras is promoted by both Abraham ben HaRambam and by Abraham HeHasid. In Islamic Sufism the principal mantras used during dhikr include "La illaha ilAllah" there is no G-d but G-d); "Ya Allah, Ya Allah" (O G-d, Oh G-d) and "Ya Huwa, Ya Huwa" (Oh He/You, Oh He/You). Many Jews (myself included) also use the mantras "Ribono Shel Olam" (Lord of All/Lord of the Hidden/Lord of All Creation) or "Adonai Hu Ha Elohim" (Our own Elijah mantra) in the same manner. In both Islamic Sufism and in Tariqa Eliyahu, the aim of such mental repetition is to clear the mind of all but G-d. Readers will find a detailed account of our mantras and our Dhikr practices later in the Manual.
[13] Given the respect shown to the works of the Rambam by his son Abraham, it is highly appropriate that our Tariqa should follow the Mishneh Torah in determining its own halachic practice. But we should also bear in mind that the later Maimunis and their circle often differed from the Rambam, especially when it came to mystical and ascetic focii. Their highly mystical stance was frequently much more aligned with the terminology and philosophy of the Sufis than with the Rambam's own views on philosophy and asceticism. R. Russ Fishbane writes: " Pietist works from the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries reflect a great diversity of orientation vis-à-vis the philosophical heritage bequeathed by Maimonides." (Judaism,Sufism and the Pietists p.196) In Tariqa Eliyahu I propose that we should lean towards the Sufic rather than the Maimonidean focus when it comes to our contemplative practice per se.
[14] Abulafian cosmology, theosophy, and systems of meditation are connected (in certain ways) both to the Rambam and also to the Islamic Sufis. But his systems are quite unique. Abulafian manipulations and transmutations of the Alphabet and Divine Names have a parallel in certain Sufic Orders methods and in Islamic mysticism generally. But in our Tariqa we propose a somewhat less intellectual praxis that makes use of (i) simpler (and often) freer or spontaneous mantra meditation, and (ii) deep contemplative attentiveness without verbal or written exercises. In a private conversation, Professor Paul Fenton pointed out to me that the aim of the Abulafian system and the aim of our Dhikr-Hazkarah system were actually very similar: as their ultimate aim was the quieting of the mind from ratiocination. Consequently, though the philosophies of the Abulafian School might jar with our own, their practical exercises might well be part of some members' individual and private meditations.
[15] A shiviti is a popular meditational text that may appear at the top of a siddur page or on a calligraphic plaque. It bears the Shem Hamevorash and usually the text “I will set HASHEM before me always.” (Psalm 16:8), often just above Psalm 67 in the form of a menorah. In our Tariqa we speak of a "shiviti consciousness" which we define in three ways: Some members take the shiviti concept literally and attempt to hold the visualised letters of the Tetragrammaton in their minds, others regard it as a purely ethical statement. Some others regard it as a description of the contemplative practice of maintaining a more-or-less constant awareness of the Presence of G-d. This latter form gives our most Sufic interpretation and the one mentioned in our Ladder of Invocation. We also make use of our own special shiviti plaque that bears biblical texts connected to the Order and also the Ana bk'oach text in the shape of a menorah. This shiviti is displayed on the "Jerusalem facing wall" of our Zawiyyas.
[16] see pages 36-47 of Kuntres Maarat HaLev for a description of this Voice and a commentary on its activity. On our website, there is also a commentary on the entire scriptural passage referred to at : https://jewishsufis.blogspot.com/2024/07/the-barzakh-of-al-khidr-in-cave-of.html
[17] See Psalm 131:2
[18] Midrash Vayikra Rabbah 9:3 teaches that politeness, refinement, good ethical conduct, and Derech Eretz (the "way of the land" or worldly manners) must exist before or alongside Torah study. This is also a cardinal virtue in Islamic Sufism with regard to Sharia and Sufi Adab.
[19] Further information on the practice of receptive contemplative prayer is found in Kuntres
Maarat Lev, pp. 48-54