Touched By Two Angels
Hayyim Nahman Bialik’s "Sabbath Queen"
By Joseph Lowin

Does American television reflect our culture or does it set its tone? However one answers that question, one thing is certain: Angels are in. The overwhelming recent success of the TV series, "Touched By An Angel," is only one indicator of this phenomenon.

It should surprise no one that angels manifest themselves constantly in Jewish literature as well. In every one of Elie Wiesel’s ten novels and two plays, for example, an angel–whether Gabriel, Raphael, Malkiel, or even the evil angel Sammael–is woven into the fabric of the plot. Furthermore, there are Bernard Malamud’s "Angel Levine," a black angel, "on probation," and Allen Hoffman’s "Kagan’s Superfecta," which posits the existence of Ozzie/Azazel, the angel for gamblers.

And then–the Talmud in Tractate Shabbat, folio 119b, tells us–there is the pair of anonymous ministering angels that accompany each Jew home from the synagogue on Friday night. About 300 years ago, the kabbalists of Safed rewrote the Talmudic legend into a poem that, as "Shalom Aleikhem," has entered our Friday-night liturgy. For the way modern times handle the Talmudic story and the poem-midrash, we need look only so far as the poem by Hebrew National Poet Hayyim Nahman Bialik (1873-1934) reproduced here.

Bialik’s reputation and influence are widely acknowledged. Born in Russia, he went to live with a pious grandfather and at the age of 16 was sent to a yeshiva to study for the rabbinate. Ironically, it was at the Yeshiva that the new secularism was making its greatest inroads. The yeshiva boys were discovering the writings of the Haskala–the Jewish Enlightenment–as well as the writings of the early Zionist thinkers like Ahad Ha-am, where Bialik found a way to remain loyal to Jewish tradition despite a breakdown of faith.

The poem "Shabbat ha-Malka" is a perfect example not only of Bialik’s modern way of handling an ancient theme but also of the Jewish way of incorporating ancient Jewish texts into modern literature. Bialik’s poem is divided into four stanzas, the last line of each borrowed directly from the Friday night zemer. Already in the first stanza, however, Bialik changes the direction of the poem by stepping out into both nature and history.

(1) The sun has already disappeared beyond the treetops, (2) Come let us go and welcome the Sabbath Queen, (3) She is already descending among us, holy and blessed, (4) And with her are angels, a host of peace and rest, (5) Come, O Queen, (6) Come, O Queen, (7) Peace be unto you, O Angels of Peace."

In this stanza, the speaker is not a worshiper returning home from synagogue but a poet who goes out to the fields and gardens to great the arrival of the Shabbat. In the second stanza, Bialik alludes directly to another custom introduced at Safed, the Friday eve Kabbalat Shabbat service.

(8) We have welcomed the Shabbat with song and prayer, (9) Let us return home our hearts full of joy. (10) There, the table is set, the lights are lit, (11) Every corner of the house is shining with a divine spark. (12) A good and blessed Shabbat. (13) A good and blessed Shabbat. (14) Come in peace, O Angels of Peace.

Bialik here notes that at home all the necessary preparations have been made for the celebration of Shabbat. The stanza ends in verses 12 and 13 with the standard Shabbat greeting: Shabbat Shalom u-Mevorakh. This is applied in everyday life not only to the heavenly hosts but also to all Jews who bask in the warmth of the Shabbat experience. The third stanza represents the first step in Bialik’s break from the ancient story. Interestingly, it is a break that constitutes an even stronger bond.

(15) Sit among us, O pure Shabbat Queen, and enlighten us with your splendor. (16) Tonight and tomorrow–then you may pass on. (17) And we for our part will honor you by wearing beautiful clothing, (18) By singing zemirot, by praying, and by eating three meals. (19) And with complete rest. (20) And with pleasant rest. (21) Bless me with peace, O Angels of Peace.

The focus in this stanza shifts from the Sabbath Queen to the Sabbath Observer, and tells how it is proper to celebrate Shabbat. This stanza seems to imply that the blessing of Shabbat lies in its performance, including the ritual three meals. In the last stanza, the poet introduces a new motif found neither in the Talmudic legend nor in the Safed poem.

(22) The sun has already disappeared beyond the treetops. (23) Come let us accompany the Sabbath Queen’s departure. (24) Go in peace, holy and blessed. (25) Know that for six day we will await your return. (26) Yes, till next Shabbat. (27) Yes, till next Shabbat. (28) Go in peace, O Angels of Peace.

In the Safed poem, the last stanza addressed the departing angels so that the family might sit down to begin its Shabbat meal. Here Bialik adds a new motif, the motif of the cyclical nature of Jewish life. He does so by repeating verbatim the first line of his poem. Here the sun is setting not on a Friday evening but on a Saturday night. Bialik adds an element of folksiness and warmth to the conclusion of the stanza by suggesting a popular attitude among Jews that the six weekdays between Sabbaths are spent in anticipation of the next coming of the Sabbath Queen, accompanied once again by the two angels of peace.

Bialik’s poetry, as popular among Jews in his day as television is in ours, reflects Jewish culture, to be sure. By making the texts of the Jewish heritage modern, Bialik also shows us how to make that heritage our own.