You have probably heard the old chestnut about the new rabbi who notices that when the congregation reaches a particular prayer, half stand and half sit. Each group claims that it is following the historic traditions of the community. The rabbi goes to visit his esteemed predecessor and explains that one side argues and the other side takes the opposite side. He asks the elder rabbi, “What is the tradition?” The rabbi looks at him and says: “That’s it. Our tradition is to argue.”

In our shul, as we reach the Days of Awe, one of the favourite subjects for discussion is whether we should have some seats set aside for the elderly and infirm along with the ushers and doctors. People also disagree about which open seats may be claimed by arriving early or which “belong” to certain families by virtue of congregational history.

I am reminded of the story about Mr. and Mrs. Greenberg who have finally managed to get tickets for the hottest show on Broadway, “The Book of Mormon”. Sold out, Scalpers are retiring on this one.  The Greenbergs have front row seats and notice that in the row behind them, there's an empty seat.  When intermission comes and no one has sat there, Mrs. Greenberg turns to the woman sitting next to it and asks, "Pardon me, but this show is in such demand, do you have any idea why that seat is empty?"  

The woman says, "That's my late husband's seat."   Mrs. Greenberg apologizes for being so insensitive.  A few minutes later, she turns around again. "Without meaning to be rude or anything, this is an incredibly hard show to get into. Surely you must have a friend or a relative who would have wanted to come to see the show with you?"  The woman nods, but explains, "They're all at the funeral."

There actually is a tradition that following a death we do not sit in our usual place in synagogue. We move because death has caused dislocation in our personal life. If we move and sit in another place, we in turn, disrupt the pattern of others. Gradually, this death ripples through a congregation. (Heilman, Synagogue Life)

This year, I discovered that restricted seating has now migrated to the bimah. I came to my seat and found one of the small white tags on the middle chair in the rabbis’ pew.  I looked closely and saw it was reserved for ...  the Maharal of Prague.  And on the bookstand in front of the seat was a miniature reproduction of the matzevah, the tombstone, of Rabbi Yehudah Loew ben Betzalel.

How did this arrive next to my seat? As far as I knew, the Maharal died in 1609.  Putting on my Sherlock Holmes kippah, I quickly realized that this could only be the work of Barry Phillips!  Many of you know Barry, who so graciously welcomes people to shul and distributes aliyot and other honours to members and guests. I knew that during the summer, Barry and Susan visited Berlin and Prague. When I asked him, Barry responded with a sweet grin.

Who, you ask, was the Maharal? The letters are an acronym: Mem for Morenu, our teacher, Heh-Resh for Harav, the Rabbi, Lamed for Loew, the Lion of Yehudah.

The Maharal is popularly known as the subject of a legend that he fashioned a golem, an animate being, to protect the Jewish community. According to the account, a priest sought to incite Christians with the accusation that Jews used the blood of innocent children to prepare matzot. Using the 4 letter Ineffable Name of God, the original source of life, the Maharal unlocked the kabbalistic secrets of Divine Power to produce life from earth, just as God did in Genesis. The golem protected the community from harm during the Easter season. However, the golem could not be controlled and threatened innocent lives, so the Maharal removed the Divine Name and left the golem lifeless.

Golem-like characters appear in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein’s Monster, Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, and George Lucas’s Star Wars. Super-heroes such as the Incredible Hulk and Superman are Golem-like figures.

The Maharal was a leading Torah sage of the 16th century and known for his Biblical and Talmudic commentaries, halakhic decisions, ethical and theological writings, and mystical teachings. He had such an impact on subsequent Jewish thought that one Hasidic rabbi observed, “The Maharal is so wise, he even has brains in his feet!” To this day, he is venerated as a hero of the Czech Republic.

I went back to my study and pulled some of his books from my shelves. One of the Maharal’s teachings is valuable for us as we conclude the Sukkot season as well as through the year.  Anticipating the idea of Freidrich Hegel that two opposites, a thesis and an antithesis, could be resolved in a synthesis, the Maharal taught that body and soul were opposites, as were humanity and God. One was physical and the other spiritual.

The mitzvot, while expressions of divine will, require human beings to carry them out. Spiritual acts, the mitzvot can only be performed by the body. Through the mitzvot, the physical and the spiritual come together in a synthesis. My friend and teacher, Professor Byron Sherwin, who has written extensively about the Maharal, summed it up: “The will of the infinite God is articulated in the finite human deed” (Sherwin, Kabbalah, 89).

When we eat in a sukkah or wave a lulav and etrog, we are doing something physical, but our actions build a spiritual bridge between us and God. We attain a form of devekut, mystical intimacy, through the performance of mitzvot . As Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, by doing the finite, we may perceive the infinite. (Sherwin, Mystical Theology, 77-80, Heschel, The Earth in the Lord’s, 109)

Barry’s seating arrangement inspired me. I began to imagine the Maharal sitting next to me in Beth Tzedec. After Rosh Hashanah, I called Rabbi Sherwin, and said, “You’ll never guess who was sitting next to me in shul”. I began to think that each year I would ask a great rabbi to sit next to me on the bimah: Rabbi Akiva. Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai. Saadia. Rambam. I’d probably concentrate more on my davvening, avoid small talk, be a bit more nervous about my derashah.

There actually is a Jewish tradition to have spiritual greats sit with us. On Sukkot we welcome ushpizin, spiritual guests, into our sukkah. The Zohar tells us, "When a person sits in the shadow of faith (sukkah), the Shekhinah (Divine Presence) spreads Her wings over [that person] and Abraham and five other righteous ones of God (along with David) make their abode with him…A person should rejoice each day of the festival with these guests”. 

These are the words of welcome: 

Tivu, Tivu, ushpizin ee-lah-een, tivu, tivu, ushpizin kaddishin.  Welcome, welcome exalted guests. Come in, come in, holy guests.

Who are these distinguished spiritual visitors? In addition to Avraham and David, they are Yitzhaq, Yaakov, Yosef, Moshe, and Aharon. According to the 16th-century Kabbalist Menachem Azariah, known as the Rama of Fano, seven female prophets, are invited:  Sarah, Miriam, Devorah, Hannah, Aviga’il, Hulda, and Esther.  Rabbi and Mrs Tanenbaum often invite significant historical figures. What is important is the idea that we don’t sit alone and we don’t sit in one time zone.

There is a story told of former president Bill Clinton, who wanted to know why Jews and Israelis seemed to have information from the White House even before it was released to the public. He asked an advisor who told him that the Jews get all this information when they sit in shul. Clinton wanted to see for himself, so he put on a disguise and went to Adas Israel, the Conservative synagogue in the District. He sat down in the sixth row, opened a siddur, and turned to the man sitting next to him. “What’s new?” he asked. “”Shh. Don’t tell anyone. The President is coming to shul today”.

Consider for a moment, whom you might you want to have sitting next to you in shul. Would it be a former Prime Minister? a Biblical figure?   A scientist, such as Albert Einstein, who made an impact on the world? Would it be an athlete, perhaps Hank Greenberg? Do you remember when Shawn Green used to attend services here?  What about a noted cinematographer, a famous actor or an amazing singer? I remember when Jackie Mason came to davven with us one Shabbat. I told a small joke and he commented to Justice Grossman, “Now, even the rabbis are comedians”.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be a public figure. Maybe you can imagine your zaydie or bubbie sitting with you. Can you feel their clothing? Smell their body? Touch their skin? I’d love to have my mother or father sit with me, an uncle who perished in Europe or the brother who died before I was born.

Think about those from your family who have gone on to the next level of existence. Which ones would you want in your sukkah? Who would you want sitting next to you in shul? A spouse? A child? A sibling? Would your seat mate help or hinder you in your current life? Enable you to pray or inhibit your devotion? Bring you comfort or challenge you?

Take a moment. Think about why you are inviting them, remember a story about them, or recall something they did that meant a lot to you.

Tivu, Tivu, ushpizin ee-lah-een, tivu, tivu, uspizin kaddishin. Welcome, welcome, exalted guests. Come in, come in, holy guests. It is time for Yizkor.

1. Maharal (Yehudah Loew ben Betzalel), Gevurot Hashem and Gur Aryeh
2. Samuel Heilman, Synagogue Life: A Study in Symbolic Interaction (Transaction Publishers, 1998)
3. Abraham Heschel, The Earth is the Lord’s (1949, republished  by Jewish Lights, 1995)
4. Byron Sherwin, Kabbalah (Rowman & Littlefield, 2006)
5. Byron Sherwin, Mystical Theology and Social Dissent (Littman Library, 1983, 2006)
6. http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/biography/Loew.html
7. http://www.jewish-museum.cz/en/apredmet.php?datum=10&rok=09
8. http://www.myjewishlearning.com/beliefs/Issues/Magic_and_the_Supernatural/Practices_and_Beliefs/Supernatural_Beings/Golems.shtml