I’ve found that often­times peo­ple talk about kab­bal­ah and Jew­ish mys­ti­cism like it’s some sort of secret, eso­teric mag­ic, only to be under­stood by old men with beards por­ing over ancient tomes. 

In research­ing, trans­lat­ing, and writ­ing per­son­al reflec­tions about many tra­di­tion­al Hasidic mys­ti­cal texts for my new book, The Snail and the Shell: 70 Faces of God, World & Self, there were moments when I felt I was div­ing into this enig­mat­ic, closed off world. I approached the mate­r­i­al with a sin­gu­lar pur­pose: to ampli­fy ideas and images from these tra­di­tion­al texts that would feel fresh, rad­i­cal, and entire­ly new and rel­e­vant in our mod­ern world. 

By explor­ing these seem­ing­ly arcane texts in the con­text of our mod­ern world and as a queer rab­bi and dad, I hope to pro­vide an open door to wis­dom that has often felt closed-off and spark mean­ing­ful con­ver­sa­tions about pur­su­ing jus­tice and build­ing inner strength at a time of great chal­lenge, all while explor­ing under­uti­lized resources from the Jew­ish tradition.

One of the texts I draw upon in The Snail and the Shell is from what some might con­sid­er to be one of those self­same ancient tomes, Ma’or Va-Shemesh by Kalony­mus Kalman Epstein (1753−1825, Poland). This work brings up an idea that may seem sub­ver­sive to some: that wis­dom emerges from each person’s heart, and each person’s own divine­ly inspired imag­in­ings, more so than any sacred text can impart. It is this knowl­edge — the knowl­edge unique to each and every human soul, and impos­si­ble to ful­ly com­mu­ni­cate to one anoth­er — that is the true secret, more secret than mys­ti­cal ideas you can dis­cov­er in a book, that I want­ed to con­vey in my book.

Like the sev­en­ty texts described in my book, the fol­low­ing piece shares a vivid and imag­i­na­tive idea of God. Below is an orig­i­nal trans­la­tion of an excerpt from Epstein’s ser­mon, along with my own foot­notes, a per­son­al reflec­tion, and sev­er­al guid­ing ques­tions. You’ll find this same struc­ture for each of the texts in my book, which can be pur­chased here.

______

Trans­la­tion

“The secret of the Eter­nal is for those who revere God” (Psalms 25:14). The essence of the word ​“secret” in this con­text means: some­thing impos­si­ble to reveal. The intent is not about learn­ing kab­bal­ah, which one per­son can teach to anoth­er, but rather the true ​“secret,” which is grasp­ing God’s blessed and exalt­ed existence. 

This is like what’s explained in the holy Zohar (1:103b) about the verse ​“Her hus­band is known in the gates [be-SHe’aRim]” (Proverbs 31:23): “[God is known] by each per­son accord­ing to their own imag­in­ing [SHi’uRin].”[1] This mat­ter is hid­den away in each person’s heart — each accord­ing to their capa­bil­i­ty and accord­ing to the light that the Holy Blessed One shines into their hearts. It’s impos­si­ble for one per­son to explain this type of under­stand­ing to their fel­low; even if they explain it, their fel­low won’t under­stand it. Rather, each per­son under­stands only accord­ing to what they seek out from God.

This is the mean­ing of ​“The secret of the Eter­nal is for those who revere God” — our Blessed Creator’s exis­tence is a secret hid­den away for those who revere God, each of whom grasps in some great way a con­cep­tion of God’s blessed existence.

______

Reflec­tion

I was part­way through rab­bini­cal school when my moth­er was diag­nosed with can­cer. At the time, I thought I had a very sophis­ti­cat­ed the­ol­o­gy; I’d stud­ied with amaz­ing teach­ers and read as wide­ly as I could, so I fig­ured I knew a thing or two. When my mom died — and in the months and years of grief after­wards — I dis­cov­ered how thin my the­ol­o­gy was, and how much there was left to learn. 

My sense of life, mean­ing, and God, has grown more com­pli­cat­ed and flex­i­ble in the inter­ven­ing years. That’s not only because I was forced to dis­cov­er some of the deep­er secrets buried away with­in me, but also because — as a con­gre­ga­tion­al rab­bi — I’ve been invit­ed into peo­ple’s homes and lives, sim­chas and suf­fer­ings. In these encoun­ters, I’ve been enlight­ened and hum­bled by the broad range of ways peo­ple cel­e­brate and mourn, the ways they make mean­ing and hold the sanc­ti­ty of every­day life. Each per­son, in their own way, holds a secret under­stand­ing of our world — hold­ing a secret of God, or act­ing unknow­ing­ly as God’s own secret.

I’ll always trea­sure text study. Writ­ing The Snail and the Shell—delv­ing into dozens of intri­cate Hasidic texts and research­ing each cita­tion and allu­sion — has been a source of joy and fas­ci­na­tion for me over the five years it took to com­pile, trans­late, and com­ment on each of them. What I’ve learned from this project has only strength­ened the secret I’ve dis­cov­ered serv­ing Jew­ish com­mu­ni­ties for more than a decade now: The deep­est learn­ing and the most mys­ti­cal secrets are hid­den in the hearts of oth­er peo­ple. When we have the oppor­tu­ni­ty to encounter them, we can learn more about our­selves and God than we ever thought possible.

______

Guid­ing Questions

  • What is some­thing mean­ing­ful to you that you have a hard time express­ing to others? 
  • When have you encoun­tered a sense of deep, sacred mean­ing in an exchange with anoth­er person?
  • How does for­mal spir­i­tu­al prac­tice like text study, prayer, or rit­u­al obser­vance relate to your per­son­al spir­i­tu­al life?

[1] This is a para­phrase of the Zohar’s descrip­tion: But cer­tain­ly, ​“Her hus­band is known in the gates [SHe’aRim]” refers to the Holy Blessed One, who is known and under­stood accord­ing to what each person’s heart can imag­ine [me’SHa’eR], and accord­ing to the capac­i­ty of their spir­it of wis­dom. As [God] is imag­ined in the heart, so is [God] known in the heart. This is why it is writ­ten ​“known in the gates [SHe’aRim] – that is, through these imag­in­ings [SHe’aRim], which each and every per­son imag­ines [me’SHa’eR] in their own heart. But to be known as is fit­ting? That, no one can under­stand and know.

Rab­bi Alex Braver returned to B’nai Jeshu­run and New York City in 2026 after a decade of ser­vice at Con­gre­ga­tion Tifer­eth Israel in Colum­bus, Ohio. 

After grad­u­at­ing from Bran­deis Uni­ver­si­ty in 2009, Alex received a fel­low­ship from the Hadar Insti­tute in 2010 for a year of Jew­ish study in their egal­i­tar­i­an yeshi­va. He was ordained in 2016 by the Jew­ish The­o­log­i­cal Sem­i­nary, with an MA in Midrash and a cer­tifi­cate in Pas­toral Care and Counseling. 

His new book, The Snail and the Shell: 70 Faces of God, World, and Self (Izzun Books), is a pas­sion project explor­ing the sur­pris­ing and cre­ative metaphors for God and spir­i­tu­al life in tra­di­tion­al Ḥa­sidic texts, with orig­i­nal trans­la­tions, com­men­tary, and per­son­al reflections.