Over Your Skis

Rapture of the Deep

*this will be delivered tomorrow at Temple Israel Center

Growing up in St. Louis, skiing was not at all part of our family culture. Many locals sang the praises of famed Missouri ski spot Hidden Valley; I can’t say that I ever made a visit. As I grew up and spent a lot of time on the east coast, the notion of trying my hand at skiing became enticing. As a thrill-seeker, flying down a snow packed mountain seemed exhilarating.

So, as Lauren and I planned a vacation in 2017, we finally decided that this was going to be the one where we went skiing. Off we trudged to the hallowed peaks of Pennsylvania…you probably can now see where this is going. We did all the things you’re supposed to do: we got the gear, had the requisite lessons with the instructor, and then spent obscene amounts of time on the bunny slopes.

Those minor hills began to bore me and with a foolishly growing sense of optimism, I asked the instructor if he thought I was ready for the next level up. I think he nodded or maybe he just coughed and I heard what I wanted to hear and off I went. Lauren and I made our way to the next peak and tried a couple of attempts going down.

It was very clear to me that Lauren, having tried her hand at skiing a few times before was more than capable of traversing this slope. Me? Not so much. But, I had to get down, and I wasn’t going to do it sliding down on my butt even though I didn’t really understand how to stop.

So, I steeled myself for the final run because I was no longer interested in seeking out this particular thrill. As I attempted to gingerly make my way down the mountain, the lessons on stopping from the instructor went right out of my head. Speed was picked up. As I neared the midpoint of the slope and attempted to veer off to the side, I somersaulted off the path and into some shrubbery. In that measure of time, my mind immediately went to Sonny Bono. Thankfully, I landed in a pile of mushy dirt-snow just slightly worse for the wear while Lauren cackled with relief on the side.

I have never skied since.

It was too much for me. I went from not knowing how to ski to a false sense of confidence very quickly! There are steps in all sorts of processes in life and it’s important to know yourself and trust that process. Sometimes, we go too far too quickly and that can cause great harm. Thankfully for me, it was some bumps and bruises. For others, the damage can be severe.

That is one way to interpret one of the more baffling short narratives in the Torah. Leviticus 10:1-2 tells us the tragic tale of Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu:

וַיִּקְח֣וּ בְנֵֽי־אַ֠הֲרֹ֠ן נָדָ֨ב וַאֲבִיה֜וּא אִ֣ישׁ מַחְתָּת֗וֹ וַיִּתְּנ֤וּ בָהֵן֙ אֵ֔שׁ וַיָּשִׂ֥ימוּ עָלֶ֖יהָ קְטֹ֑רֶת וַיַּקְרִ֜יבוּ לִפְנֵ֤י יְהֹוָה֙ אֵ֣שׁ זָרָ֔ה אֲשֶׁ֧ר לֹ֦א צִוָּ֖ה אֹתָֽם׃ וַתֵּ֥צֵא אֵ֛שׁ מִלִּפְנֵ֥י יְהֹוָ֖ה וַתֹּ֣אכַל אוֹתָ֑ם וַיָּמֻ֖תוּ לִפְנֵ֥י יְהֹוָֽה׃

Now Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu each took his fire pan, put fire in it, and laid incense on it; and they offered before יהוה alien fire, which had not been enjoined upon them. And fire came forth from יהוה and consumed them; thus they died at the instance of יהוה.

The ambiguities of this story lead to wild speculation on the part of the sages. Some say they were drunk. Others say they disrespected Moses by trying to show him up. Others prefer the plain reading of the text which was that the act itself wasn’t problematic, it was the fact that God hadn’t commanded it.

One that always speaks to me comes from Tzadok Ha’Kohen of Lublin who says the following:

But it is known to one who goes in and out that this matter must be in accordance with a person's level. He must enter gradually, rising from one level to the next. But if he achieves comprehension above his level, his soul may depart, as when (Chagiga 14b) Ben Azai gazed and died because of his comprehension. And so too the deaths of Nadav and Avihu were in this manner. And at the giving of the Torah as well, after one commandment their souls departed (Shabbat 88b), for they were not all prepared for the level of prophecy. But God sent down dew of resurrection, that is, an abundance of new vitality, so that they became new creatures. The same is true with any comprehension that is above one's level.

Resisei Layla 58:2

Rav Tzadok here is speaking to a mystic seeker, one who is attempting to get close to and commune with the Divine. While different than the frame I offered as a thrill seeker, the message is eerily similar. A person seeking out God must do so incrementally at their own level. You and I are in different relationships with God so our pathway to God will be different. Yet, no matter what the pathway is, we have to follow it step by step.

The same thing happened at the giving of the Torah as well he notes. That moment was too much for the Israelites of the time so much so that they perished. They were brought back to life through God’s grace. A bit exaggerated? Sure! But it captures the notion of how important a process is. In order to get where you want to go, you have to trust it. Or else, you’ll get consumed.

I find this framework applicable in so many aspects of life. Many of us live within a culture that rewards narratives in which people skyrocket to the peak of their particular life’s work. The more drawn in you are to this, the more tempting it is to reach farther and farther. But there’s a danger there.

As Rabbi Dr. Ariel Evan Mayse wrote in his magnificent essay on Nadav and Avihu:

Undersea divers know of a dangerous and mysterious phenomenon felicitously described by Jacques-Yves Cousteau as l’ivresse des grandes profondeurs, or “the rapture of the deep.” This state, also called nitrogen narcosis, often manifests as a sensation of overwhelming euphoria akin to intoxication. Faced with intense pressure, likely compounded by a chemical imbalance from breathing ordinary air so far beneath the ocean’s surface, the body and mind begin to flex curiously. In this rapture, the diver’s judgment and vision become hazardously impaired. This subaquatic bliss is all the more dangerous because it may lead to an inscrutable longing to go deeper, overruling the panicked instinct to surface.

It is alluring to want to go deeper. There’s a mysteriousness that entices us. We feel drawn to reach for the highest highs, in this case the deepest depths, or in my case, the swiftest descents but it’d behoove us to also remember our limits. Progress really is a slow process more often than not.

Which is to say, these outlier stories of individuals’ meteoric rises to some great triumphs are fool’s gold for many of us. Those stories are few and far between. The real success in life happens when you know yourself and you grit through the arduous labor of grinding from step to the next.

Amid all the various attempts to capture Nadav and Avihu’s intent, this one feels universally relatable. Most of us (hopefully) aren’t worshipping a God drunkenly. The majority of us aren’t actively attempting to discredit and disparage our teachers. But many of us are trying to reach something, someone, or somewhere greater.

It’s in these moments when we’d do well to remember this cautionary tale. After all, Nadav and Avihu were attempting something holy even if their self-confidence was off.

They got too far ahead of their skis. We can all aspire to seek these thrills with some trust and certainly the belief that we’ll get there eventually, even if it takes a little bit longer than anticipated.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Weekend!