Who was the first Sufi? According to some, that title goes to Ali ibn
Abi Talib (c. 600–661) and many Muslims
would say that distinction is shared by the intimate companions of the Prophet
of Islam. But for Jews, the
first Jewish Sufi must surely be
Moses: whose retreats on Sinai and whose meditations in "the Tent Outside the
Camp", in the Cleft of the
Rock, and before the Ark were
the foundation for the Sufi
practices of solitary contemplative
retreat that we refer to as Khalwa/Hitbodedut.
For
the Egyptian Hasidim, and most
especially for R. Abraham ben Ha Rambam,
the biblical Prophets are the model
exemplars of those who have
attained wusla (enlightenment/true gnosis). In the Kifaya (as in the works of
the Rambam) "prophecy"
is presented as being a state of
discursive union with the
Divine that ranges from
enlightened intuition, through inspiration, and finally to a state of some
kind of Union with or Nearness to
the Divine.
In Tariqa Eliyahu, our Silsila
(sufi lineage) is an Uwaysi chain of
transmission that is purely spiritual and
it passes from Moshe Rabbenu—to Shmuel HaNabi—to Eliyahu Ha Nabi—through
Elisha Ha Nabi and the movement/school that the Torah calls the Bnei Nevi'im…and on to the Mediaeval Egyptian Jewish-Sufis
(under R. Abraham ben HaRambam) who restored the connections of
the Silsila that had been
lost. We connect spiritually
with this chain and most especially with the archetypal Elijah/Al
Khidr: our special model as Master and
Guide on the Sufi Path, and the symbol of wusla itself.
But Moshe Rabbeinu's level of prophecy is way "above" and "distinct" from any other level of prophetic experience, and none of us can ever attain that kind of prophetic state. So who was the first Jewish-Sufi?
My personal answer to that question is
that it was not one but two people:
Nadav and Abihu, the sons of Aharon Ha Kohen Gadol.
oooOooo
Our Biblical commentators have long been puzzled by the exact
significance of the deaths of Nadav and Abihu,the sons of Aharon
the Kohen Gadol. In Parshat Shemini they enter the sanctuary and offer
an ‘unauthorised fire’, a sacrifice of incense (prayer) which causes them to be
wholly consumed in a Divine fire.[1] The responses of Moshe Rabbeinu and
Aharon Ha Kohen Gadol are ambiguous and defy the ingenuity of our greatest
scholars as they balance off interpretations that either condemn these
two kohanim as rebellious criminals or extol them as saints of
the highest order.[2]
I side with those commentators who (like the Sfas Emes and the
Chatam Sofer) see these two as “saints” rather than
“sinners”. Those who support the good name of Nadav and Abihu
were also championed (in the mid thirteenth century) by R. Abraham
ben Ha Rambam in his “Kifaya” when he writes:
Our Sages have
blamed the deaths of Nadav and Avihu—[eternal] peace be upon them—on an element
of pride (Vayikra Rabbah 20:10). Many misguided people take this
statement superficially,as they take the other comments about them in the
Midrash, thinking that they were extremely arrogant. [However,to believe this]
about such great men is unacceptable...Nadav and Abihu were among the
first annointed and among the greatest of prophets...Therefore to criticize
them is a terrible sin...The bottom line,though, is that the cause of
their problem was that they deviated slightly from humility.[3]
The account of the death of these two tzaddikim is immediately followed in the Torah by an admonition against inebriation during liturgical worship, and this has led some commentators to accuse Nadav and Abihu of being drunk on alcohol. If they were inebriated, surely it was more likely that they were inebriated with the Love of G-d.
The complex arguments which our sages laid down to plumb the depths
of this mysterious incident are
convoluted, inconclusive and beyond the scope of this commentary
as no single definitive answer to the textual conundrum can stand
on its own as the objectively and exclusively true one.
The idea that they were intoxicated with the love of God rather than
drink, but made a misjudgement in their zeal might reconcile the
textual difficulties concerning the immolation of these two proto-sufis
in the divine fire. For them, such a death was a blessing. The fire
that consumed them may be seen as a sacrifical fire of
mystical union, and not as a punishment.
But I would like to offer another possibility, by way of a hiddush: In our Torah, perhaps the event may have been
recorded ambiguously to conceal a hidden message for the future, a message
which only Moshe Rabbeinu and Aharon Ha Cohen Gadol were party to—a private and
prophetically delivered message that they received in secret. If
this is
the case, perhaps the existence of this secret was deliberately couched in
the ambiguous text: its mysterious
paradox planted there for us to
discover at the appointed time. This is
not an unreasonable assumption given Moshe’s strange praise of
the two sons and Aharon’s poignant silence
in Vayikra 10:3.
For the rebellious Israelites of the time it was a demonstration
of Divine Power designed to increase awe and obedience in worship. For Nadav and Abihu, their immolation was an
experience of extreme and holy deveykut.
I see Nadav and Abihu as
pioneer Mitkarevim who wished to ‘draw near’ to
the Divine in a way which was beyond acceptability in
their historical time-period. For me, their immolation resembles the
Fiery Chariot of Eliyahu that bore the prophet to full union with
the Divine. For me it is
inconceivable that the text describes a fierce and almost vindictive
Divine punishment. To me it is very much a Sufic ‘fana-baqa’
event: A matter concerning the annihilation of the ego in the Divine fire of all-consuming
love.
A Sufi, in the classical Islamic
tradition, is one who has been consumed by
Love in the Divine Fire. This
fire is called Ishq:
an overflowing of passionate love at the highest level of absorption into the Divine. In the Jewish text of R. David ben Joshua Maimuni, it is
the state described (using
Islamic terminology) at the conclusion of
his Al Murshid where the soul of
the Sufic Novice/Aspirant is purified to the point
that all awareness of self is
subsumed into the Divine
consciousness: the classic "dying
before one dies".
R.Hayim ibn Attar writes in his Ohr Ha Chayim:
“They came close to G‑d
and died” (Vayikra 16:1)—they approached the
supernal light out of their great love of the Holy, and thereby died. Thus they
died by a “Divine kiss” such as that experienced by the perfectly
righteous. The righteous die when the Divine kiss approaches them,
whereas they died by their approaching it... Although they sensed their
own demise, this did not prevent them from drawing near to G‑d in attachment,
delight, delectability, fellowship, love, kissing, and sweetness, to the
point that their souls passed from them.[4]
Some of us share their impulse, and many of us are most definitely aware
of a call to be ‘near’ G-d which does not elevate us over others; does not lead
us into power-games with the spiritual world; and which is not an escape from
community—but an expression of profound involvement in its mission even though
the contemplative's contribution may seem hidden.
oooOooo
In the writings of the
Egyptian Hasidim each aspiring Sufi (novice/salik) is enjoined to embrace the form of solitude to which they feel called. In
the Kifaya all are called to aim for the
kind of "khalwa batin" that consists of perpetual solitude even in
a crowd, but the journey towards that stage is to be
taken very gradually and each person has their own family, domestic, professional,
and psychological circumstances which will
affect, and maybe even determine, their own particular route and level of progress on the shared path
of the
Tariqa.
For all of us that solitude may be found in the Kifaya's recommended night-time vigils, in regular hours of solitary silent meditation and dhikr, in periodic total retreat ( from a few days to the full 40 day Jewish Sufi arbai-in).
But the Egyptian Hasidim also
sought to set up convents for those salikun
who wanted to live in almost total solitary retreat. It seems
to me that it is the latter group that are most closely related in spirit to Nadav
and Abihu and so I would
like to conclude with a special word for them.
Those who are blessed to be
able to practice the kind of
extended retreat that the Kifaya recommends
have the single-mindedness which is expressed in the cry:
"One thing
do I ask of the Lord, and only that shall I seek: To dwell in the house of The
Lord all the days of my life, to behold G-d’s beauty, and to meditate in His
Sanctuary." [5]
All contemplative Jewish-Sufis aspire to this state, and all salikun of our order are engaged in the process of fana-baqa that they hope will lead to
"Nearness" and maybe even
"Union" after the example of
Nadav and Abihu.
But for those of us who
feel called to live in extended retreat as Dedicated
Jewish Contemplatives, our aim is to
become Jewish-Sufis with the single-mindedness to devote every moment
of our existence to the practice of such nearness. Not as a
form of self-perfecting asceticism, but as an act of religious community service;
a sacrifice of prayer and devotion which envelops all creation. Not
as an escape from society or responsibility, but as an embrace.
I have not seen this better expressed than in the following passage from
the writings of Rav Kook:
"Whoever feels
within himself, after many trials, that his inner being can find peace only in
pursuing the secret teachings of the Torah must know with certainty that it is
for this that he was created.
Let him not be
troubled by any impediments in the world, whether physical or spiritual, from
hastening after what is the essence of his life and his true
perfection. He may assume that it is not only his own perfection and
deliverance that hinges on the improvement of his character, but also the
deliverance of the community and the perfection of the world." [6]
I would go further than Rav Kook, and state that to discourage the
minority of Jews who wish to live like this from doing so— might actually
be preventing the light of the tzaddikim from
reaching all the nooks and crannies it is intended to
reach. The responsibilities of the contemplative are as necessary
and as valuable as are the more pragmatic or more easily quantified aspects of
Jewish societal philanthropy and inter-personal tzedakah.
The Rambam writes:
"Every single
one of those who live in our world,
whose spirit has
gratefully welled up,
and who has
comprehended in his or her mind to be separated
and to stand before
God,
to serve Him,
to worship Him,
and to know Him;
who has walked in the
straight path that God has intended for her or him;
and who has shed from
his or her neck the yoke of the many accountings that humans make of one
another --this person
has become holy like the holy of holies, and God will be her or his portion and
inheritance forever and ever.
Such a person will
have sufficient in this world, as did the priests and levites, as David,
may he rest in peace, said, "The Lord is my portion of inheritance and my
cup; You sustain my destiny" (Ps. 16:5)."
Mishne Torah in Hilkhot Shemitta ve-Yovel 13:12-13
(emphasies mine)
Whether one stands in a Sufic Vigil, sits in silent meditation, or
undergoes short or long-term reclusive
retreats—all of us are approaching
the Fire of Nadav and Abihu and
all of us are reaching out to follow the
Fiery Chariot of Elijah. Like
them, our Jewish-Sufi progenitors: May we merit to be annihilated in the Fire of
Divine Love.
Nachman Davies
Safed
April 7 2026
[2] The almost endless (if largely
negative) opinions on the incident are catalogued
here: https://aish.com/48923142/and there
is a stimulating set of essays on the subject at
"thetorah.com": see https://www.thetorah.com/article/how-god-was-sanctified-through-nadav-and-avihus-death and https://www.thetorah.com/article/the-incident-of-nadav-and-avihu A
remarkably positive and highly recommended discussion is to be found at https://www.nitzotzos.com/post/parshas-shmini-consumed-by-a-strange-fire?fbclid=IwAR3x4bKr5twJOcXEXWZ_rven8yf10TpCLwyWzfmV-Qbsx8R5kedZRVDlBKA
[3] Translated by R’Ýaakov Wincelberg in The Guide
to Serving G-d’, R' Avraham ben HaRambam, p115-117 (
Feldheim Jerusalem/New York, 2008)
[4] Ohr Ha Chayim commentary on Vayikra 16:1
[5] Tehillim 27:4
[6] Orot Hakodesh vol 1, pp. 88-89 as
translated by Ben Zion Bokser in ‘Abraham Isaac Kook: Essential
Writings’ pp. 201-203 ( Paulist Press,
Mahwah,New Jersey,1978)