Though we would learn that Tibetan Buddhists have a tremendous textual tradition of their own, the daring of Buddhist metaphysics is to defy all conventions, even the conventions of Buddhism. Words are labels, and even the Buddhist teaching, or dharma, has no ultimate reality. In fact, I have heard Buddhist scholars argue that a person who says, "I am a Buddhist," cannot be a Buddhist, because to be a Buddhist means to have no attachment to labels.

By contrast, the rabbis were very concerned with holding on to traditional language to preserve the continuity and authenticity of their Judaism. The words chosen for a prayer represented the consensus of clal yisrael clal yisrael, the unity of Israel. The discussion was not just a wrangling among denominations, or rabbinical s...o...b..ating-though there were elements of that. Searching for the right words was a group attunement, a way to align all the energies of the Jews so they might face the Dalai Lama with a sense of unity. Now they could feel they were approaching the dialogue with integrity, working as Jews together.

6.

Contact.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 25, DHARAMSALA.

As we entered the guard house, just within the Dalai Lama's compound, I remembered the Hasidic tale of a young man who journeyed many difficult miles to visit his rebbe. "Did you go to study Torah?" he was asked. "No, I went to see how the rebbe tied his shoes."

I was eager to see how the Dalai Lama tied his shoes. How he spoke, how he listened. I hoped to find in his gestures what it might mean to call a human being holy.

The Jewish group filled out forms, showed pa.s.sports and visas, and registered with Indian military security, a reminder that the Dalai Lama was far from home, and not entirely safe.

We crossed a courtyard to the front porch of Bryn Cottage, bordered by roses and purple bougainvillea, and entered a small anteroom. Shoshana Edelberg, a professional journalist who was normally cool under pressure, nervously fiddled with her boom mike and cords. The rest of us were armed with cameras and ca.s.sette recorders.

The Samaya Foundation videotaped the sessions. To accommodate the fixed camera, the eight Jewish delegates sat in a horseshoe pattern around the Dalai Lama.

Michael Sautman led us in to the meeting room, which was more homey than royal. The partic.i.p.ants sat in comfortable stuffed couches covered with blue cloth and the rest of us observers on folding chairs. Two stuffed armchairs were reserved for the Dalai Lama and whoever addressed him. Professor Nathan Katz would be up first, followed by Rabbis Schachter and Greenberg.

Behind the Dalai Lama's chair was a wooden shrine that looked like a fireplace mantel. On it rested twelve gold and silver bowls, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with water, as an offering, along with two vases of fresh roses and carnations. In a cabinet, behind a gla.s.s door, stood a golden icon of Avalokiteshvara. For the Tibetan faithful, the Dalai Lama himself is that Buddha of Compa.s.sion.

A curtain parted and he entered through a doorway beside the shrine. We rose to meet him, falling into a line that circled the perimeter of the horseshoe. Everyone grabbed the chance, video technicians, the reporters, Yitz and Blu's son, Moshe Greenberg, and Michael Sautman's parents.

Michael had instructed us meticulously on the protocol. Each of us approached the Dalai Lama-palms together in a sign of respect and a white silk scarf, a katak katak, draped over the wrists. The Dalai Lama took the scarf and draped it over our shoulders. Nathan Katz instructed us to remove the scarf quickly. To leave it on would be arrogant-to Tibetans the katak katak symbolized divinity. symbolized divinity.

"When you greet him," Michael Sautman had explained, "don't hurry. He'll want to make some contact with you. It's not just a ritual of handing him a scarf, it's a moment of human contact with him. He's just radiating then."

My turn came. The Dalai Lama smiled, radiant, yes, beaming so that I couldn't help but smile myself. Then he gave me a sharp penetrating glance. I turned my head away. I felt a little naked, in the soul.

Now a seasoned reporter would call this purely subjective, possibly nonsensical; a psychologist might say I was experiencing anxiety-and a cynic would laugh-and I had within me all those characters.

The Dalai Lama gathered his bright scarlet robe tightly around himself, joking to Professor Nathan Katz, seated next to him, that "it gives me some kind of warmth." Then he turned to the group at large and spoke in a deep voice.

"Welcome, our Jewish brothers and sisters. We are always very much eager to learn from your experience, and of course we are only happy to exchange our own experience with our Jewish brothers and sisters." He reached for some neatly folded yellow cloths on the armrest of his chair and wiped his nose. "Today I have a quite severe cold, so I hope you will not get it. I hope not to exchange this cold."

Michael Sautman asked Karma Gelek to introduce the three distinguished abbots of Tibetan monasteries, seated just behind Nathan Katz. Karma Gelek would translate for them.

The abbots were all men of the Dalai Lama's generation. Lati Rinpoche and Jiton Rinpoche were tulkus tulkus, recognized reincarnations of distinguished lamas. In Tibet they had headed important monasteries and schools.

Geshe Lobsang was the present abbot of the Sera Je monastery, in South India, now the biggest outside of Tibet. His t.i.tle, geshe geshe, means that he had studied advanced Buddhist teachings for decades-the monastic equivalent of a Ph.D. As he stood to be introduced, he bowed with deep humility.

These men at the Dalai Lama's back represented the anchor of his tradition, as surely as Rabbi Greenberg was bound to his Orthodox community back home.

Michael Sautman suggested we go around in a circle and briefly introduce ourselves and our affiliations. Then he called on Zalman Schachter to deliver the much-debated prayer. Reb Zalman wore his black rayon, full-length liturgical robe (in Yiddish, a kappoteh kappoteh), and topped it off with a sable tail streimel streimel, the fashion in hats favored by the Hasidim. Zalman was, strictly speaking, no longer a Hasid, and carefully referred to himself as "in the Hasidic tradition." But he wore the streimel streimel, in part, he told me later, because Tibetan n.o.bility wore similar fur hats. He believed the hats derived from a common source, the Mongols, pa.s.sed on via the Cossacks and Tatars to the Polish and Lithuanian n.o.bility and thence to the Jews.

"In our tradition," he told the Dalai Lama, "when we meet a wise sage and king, we have to recite a blessing to thank G.o.d for the privilege, and it goes like this," then chanted, "Barukh ata adonai elohenu melekh haolam asher halak mikovodo umihokhmatov lebasar vdam." The melody was plaintive and my ears, schooled by that morning's debate, could pick up a hint of regret when he hit lebasar vdam lebasar vdam, flesh and blood. He paused and the Jewish group added an amen.

While the Dalai Lama listened, he seemed to draw inward, and his face became impressively blank as if temporarily erased.

"And I will now try to say it in Tibetan." Zalman's tone was playful, a childlike delight, and the Dalai Lama responded with a big Santa Claus laugh. Zalman chanted his more innovative prayer in Tibetan, the Dalai Lama smiling to burst throughout; at the end he applauded and commented, "Oh, perfect." The room filled with laughter and applause and Blu Greenberg said with some pride, "No one else in the entire Jewish community could do that beside Reb Zalman." I thought, yes, very few had Zalman's breadth of knowledge, intellectual nimbleness, and sense of theater.

The Dalai Lama chuckled some more, then added, in low tones, almost a whisper, "Thank you." After so much debate the prayers had lasted less than a minute.

The Dalai Lama formally opened the dialogue. Perhaps Karma Gelek had made him aware of the controversy over "His Holiness," for he told the Jews that since this meeting came from "a genuine desire, a sincere motivation, an eagerness to learn from different traditions, there was no need for formality," which could be a barrier, "no need," he said, "for any hesitation. Whatever you feel you want to express here, please consider me as your own brother and I consider you as my own brothers and sisters. So, too, that way we can reach a deeper level." A palpable silence followed as we took that in and then, as if to make the point, he added, "That's all," and everyone roared.

The constant resort to humor was an unexpected meeting of the two cultures. Joking and kidding flowed from both sides. Laughter was never far from his heart. It just rocked out of him, rumbling along quite naturally, like cool water from a deep artesian well.

Nathan Katz, a bearded and rotund professor of Religious Studies from the University of South Florida, spoke first. He wished to demolish Rudyard Kipling's old saw that "East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet." Instead, as a student of Hindu, Buddhist, and Jewish religion, Katz believed that Judaism and Buddhism had contact in the past. "The ancient Greeks," he declared, "knew about the Buddha. Ancient Israel also knew about India. The Buddha and our King Solomon share legends. Words from Sanskrit and Tamil are found in our ancient holy book, the Bible. We construct memory in the present, and by constructing memory we create our ident.i.ty. What we remember constructs who we are, and that's an insight of Buddhist philosophy also. What we forget also makes us who we are. Both of us, Jews and Tibetans, have forgotten we go back a long way together. It's only recently that we've forgotten."

Since we had all come thinking that this dialogue was unprecedented, Nathan was challenging some basic a.s.sumptions. In support of his argument, he reeled off intriguing evidence of contacts in the ancient world between Jews and Buddhists.

He noted that certain words in the Bible such as the Hebrew for ginger and ivory have Sanskrit roots. (Interestingly, so does pilpul pilpul!) He pointed to the trade between Israel and India in the time of King Solomon. He said that the tale of the judgment of Solomon also appears in the Jataka tales, stories of the Buddha's previous incarnations. He explained that the basic Buddhist concept of shunyata shunyata, or emptiness, which derives from Indian philosophy, was carried by a Jewish scholar into the Arabic world where it became the mathematical zero. The Arabic numerals were transmitted to the West by way of a Dominican monk. As Nathan suggested, the peregrination of zero from Hindu to Jew to Arab to Catholic monk represents a strong refutation of Kipling: "Jews were the first refugees to come to India [in the year 70 C.E. C.E.]. You are the most recent religious refugees to India. We both found havens in this tolerant land."

Given the burning cars and angry students we'd seen on the way up, I put a few mental quote marks around "tolerant land." But for all of its history, India has been highly tolerant of its Jews. Nathan had personal experience of this, for he had spent a Fulbright year in Cochin, researching a remarkable settlement of Jews on the south coast of India, who date back at least a thousand years. Moreover, as Katz explained, over the centuries there have been Jewish settlements in most of the regions surrounding Tibet, including China, Kashmir, India, and Mongolia. Hebrew ma.n.u.scripts dating back to the eighth century have been discovered in Tibetan monasteries of Kucha in Mongolia. In the ninth century, a Muslim philosopher from Central Asia, al-Buruni, noted that the Jewish word for G.o.d cannot be p.r.o.nounced and compared this to "the Hindu word Om Om and the Buddhist word and the Buddhist word shunyata shunyata because because shunyata shunyata is beyond our language and the Hebrew G.o.d is beyond our language." is beyond our language and the Hebrew G.o.d is beyond our language."

Still, Professor Katz had to admit that Tibetans and the Jewish people have no recorded history in common. As the Dalai Lama had noted in greeting the Jews the day before at the All Himalayan Conference, "There's no word in Gujarati for snow. No word in Tibetan for Jews." But Katz suggested that perhaps what had been lost was the memory of contact.

This seemed a highly speculative proposition for the moment, and I felt somewhat skeptical. In popular culture, imagination has sometimes run wild-there is a book floating around by a Russian author claiming proof that Jesus had spent his lost years in a Tibetan Buddhist monastery! It was only when I returned to Delhi and toured some of its shrines with Nathan Katz, that it would seem more plausible to me that Jews and Tibetan Buddhists might well have interacted, and even had a dialogue, four hundred years ago.

Throughout the presentation, the Dalai Lama fixed his attention on Nathan unwaveringly. I saw again how the master tied his shoes. It's not that he was always equally animated or fascinated by what he heard-but he always seemed completely there for the speaker, completely absorptive.

At the end of Nathan's talk, the Dalai Lama paused a few moments, digesting all he had heard, and then responded point by point.

This style of response derives partly from his monastic training. The gelukpa gelukpa sect is very proud of its debating tradition. The Dalai Lama had made sure to house the monks' debating school, the Inst.i.tute of Buddhist Dialectics, close to his home. Later that afternoon we would see the debating monks in action, which made a nice Tibetan bookend to the Jewish debating I'd observed all morning. In fact, as Professor Katz pointed out, the Tibetans and Jews are the sole religious traditions that incorporate formal debate as part of their religious training. As a very young man, the Dalai Lama had faced down the sages of Tibet in a daylong demonstration of his debating prowess. The requirement to absorb complex arguments and respond with appropriate quotations from Buddhist texts generously sharpened his powers of memory. Talmudic training has a similar effect, judging from the quotations that I'd heard flying around Kashmir Cottage. sect is very proud of its debating tradition. The Dalai Lama had made sure to house the monks' debating school, the Inst.i.tute of Buddhist Dialectics, close to his home. Later that afternoon we would see the debating monks in action, which made a nice Tibetan bookend to the Jewish debating I'd observed all morning. In fact, as Professor Katz pointed out, the Tibetans and Jews are the sole religious traditions that incorporate formal debate as part of their religious training. As a very young man, the Dalai Lama had faced down the sages of Tibet in a daylong demonstration of his debating prowess. The requirement to absorb complex arguments and respond with appropriate quotations from Buddhist texts generously sharpened his powers of memory. Talmudic training has a similar effect, judging from the quotations that I'd heard flying around Kashmir Cottage.

But while Jews keep ties to the ancient world, it struck me in that room how much the Tibetans still belong to it altogether. Like the tallis, the Tibetan monk's robe is first cousin to the toga, and gelukpa gelukpa pedagogy harkens back to the days of the first-century rabbinic sages. One morning in Dharamsala I was awakened near dawn by a woman's chanting. I listened for about a half an hour, impressed by the length of her prayers. But Nathan Katz explained she was actually chanting a Buddhist treatise on mindfulness, which she had mindfully engraved in her memory, page after page. I thought of the pedagogy harkens back to the days of the first-century rabbinic sages. One morning in Dharamsala I was awakened near dawn by a woman's chanting. I listened for about a half an hour, impressed by the length of her prayers. But Nathan Katz explained she was actually chanting a Buddhist treatise on mindfulness, which she had mindfully engraved in her memory, page after page. I thought of the tannaim tannaim, who recited Mishnah in the early Talmudic academies before the oral law was written down. Again and again through contact with the Tibetans, I would feel in touch not with something exotic, but with an ancient memory in my own tradition suddenly springing to life.

The Dalai Lama's extraordinary ability to memorize and repeat every point he was told was also an act of respect. As was another gesture that I'd noticed with other Tibetans, which contrasted greatly with our conversational habits in Jewish culture: How kind it is, to take just a minute to reflect before responding to a question. It was a habit I vowed to cultivate.

After his talk, Nathan Katz pointed out that many Jews have studied Tibetan Buddhism. He asked the Tibetans to reciprocate and send some graduate students to his university to study Judaism. The Dalai Lama responded positively. As for the hypothesis of earlier contacts, the Tibetan leader admitted, with perhaps a hint of irony, "This is very, very new to me."

Although highly speculative, Nathan Katz's presentation had been animated and useful. By suggesting that history itself is always under construction, he made me more conscious of the history about to be constructed before our eyes when the more formal lecturing gave way to real give-and-take.

7.

The Angel of Tibet and the Angel of the Jews.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 25, DHARAMSALA.

I don't know if anything could have prepared us for what happened in the next hour. The Dalai Lama threw a curve, and Zalman gracefully caught it. Together we entered unfamiliar realms, the four worlds of the kabbalah.

For months Zalman Schachter-Shalomi had prepared himself in his daily prayers and thoughts for this encounter, which he thought of crucial importance. "I was aware that inside of me there was a movement preparing for this event. All my reading, dreaming, talking with students and friends, praying and meditation, checking my chart for transits, reflecting on, discussing and packing the gifts, and sharing with other partic.i.p.ants." This preparation was part of what Zalman called "getting there in kavvanah kavvanah before actually arriving" in Dharamsala. before actually arriving" in Dharamsala.

Kavvanah is an important element of Hasidic devotional practice. The term means "intention" and that is the sense of Zalman's statement. But the is an important element of Hasidic devotional practice. The term means "intention" and that is the sense of Zalman's statement. But the kavvanot kavvanot are basically specific meditations or concentrations of thought designed to make prayer or a mitzvah more effective. For instance, one might visualize the unity of G.o.d through specific images before reciting the are basically specific meditations or concentrations of thought designed to make prayer or a mitzvah more effective. For instance, one might visualize the unity of G.o.d through specific images before reciting the Shema Shema, or simply take a moment to meditate in silence on the purpose of a given prayer before reciting it.

In a sense, Zalman's whole life could be seen as developing a kavvanah kavvanah for his role in the dialogue, which was crucial. He would translate the esoteric language of Judaism into terms a Tibetan Buddhist could understand. This necessitated a rare combination of expertise. Zalman was not only thoroughly versed in the Jewish mystical tradition, but he had also studied Hindu and Buddhist thought. for his role in the dialogue, which was crucial. He would translate the esoteric language of Judaism into terms a Tibetan Buddhist could understand. This necessitated a rare combination of expertise. Zalman was not only thoroughly versed in the Jewish mystical tradition, but he had also studied Hindu and Buddhist thought.

He'd made specific connections with Tibetan Buddhism early on. When the Dalai Lama went into exile in 1959, Zalman fired off a telegram to David Ben-Gurion suggesting that Israel be offered as a place of refuge. (It wasn't.) Then in the early 1960s, he'd learned about Tibetan Buddhism through encounters with Geshe w.a.n.gyal, a Mongolian lama who taught at Columbia and founded a Buddhist monastery in Freehold, New Jersey.

As Blu Greenberg had noted, Reb Zalman is a unique figure-one of the most controversial rabbis on the American Jewish scene. He has been a guiding force in the whole countercultural Jewish movement since the late sixties. To his followers he has been both a canny and perceptive theoretician of Jewish renewal and a source of contact with the vast wealth of Jewish wisdom that might otherwise be inaccessible. To his detractors, he is flaky and irresponsible, condemned for his excesses, personal and doctrinal. I think that's a bad rap, but it's certainly true that Zalman crosses boundaries of all sorts. He has danced with Sufi masters and meditated with Buddhists and has been a general pioneer not only in interfaith dialogue, but in the kind of liturgy sharing that makes Yitz Greenberg uncomfortable. As early as 1973, Zalman had attempted to bring elements of vipa.s.sana vipa.s.sana meditation into a Yom Kippur service, as a way of enhancing prayer on that day of self-examination. meditation into a Yom Kippur service, as a way of enhancing prayer on that day of self-examination.

By this time, I'd seen enough of Reb Zalman in action to know that his talents and energies would be stifled in a role as socially constricted as congregational rabbi. When I met him, I finally understood the whole tradition of oral masters, who are best appreciated in person, and who inspire others through their incredible flow of ideas, images, and illuminating tales. Though he holds a degree in the psychology of religion, has taught at major universities, and published both popular and scholarly works, he is much more in the line of a cla.s.sic teacher of wisdom or a holy man. He is charismatic and spontaneous, with a highly developed theatrical sense, and a touch of the clown. But he is far too open about his own spiritual struggles and failings to be a cult leader. This same openness has made him attractive to many otherwise disaffected Jews-by now a worldwide network of political activists, social workers, Buddhist meditators, writers, teachers, and rabbis who consider Zalman their rebbe.

In his home base of Philadelphia, he guides a Jewish renewal spiritual community, P'nai Or, or "Faces of Light." It is currently expanding into a network of Jewish renewal chavurot chavurot called ALEPH, Alliance for Jewish Renewal. Zalman has toured the world giving workshops, showing how the acc.u.mulated wisdom of kabbalah can be applied to today's life, trying to enrich and vivify Jewish practice, doing what he calls "R and D work in davennology," the study of Jewish prayer. called ALEPH, Alliance for Jewish Renewal. Zalman has toured the world giving workshops, showing how the acc.u.mulated wisdom of kabbalah can be applied to today's life, trying to enrich and vivify Jewish practice, doing what he calls "R and D work in davennology," the study of Jewish prayer.

Today the Jewish mystical tradition is most actively transmitted within Hasidic groups like the Lubavitchers. Such ultra-Orthodox pract.i.tioners would probably feel prohibited from dialogue with Buddhists. So given the Dalai Lama's request to learn more about the Jewish esoteric, Zalman's unique role as an authentically trained disseminator of such teachings was crucial to our dialogue.

But Zalman's kavvanah kavvanah arose also from a strong sense of identification with the plight of the Tibetans in exile. Because he carries a living memory of pre-Holocaust Hasidism, of a world and way of life consigned to ashes, he respected the Dalai Lama in a very intimate sense, as a colleague who bore on his shoulders a tremendous burden. Before his presentation, Zalman turned and looked into his eyes. arose also from a strong sense of identification with the plight of the Tibetans in exile. Because he carries a living memory of pre-Holocaust Hasidism, of a world and way of life consigned to ashes, he respected the Dalai Lama in a very intimate sense, as a colleague who bore on his shoulders a tremendous burden. Before his presentation, Zalman turned and looked into his eyes.

"I want to say that when a soul comes down to earth they show him first what he has to do here, that's our tradition. And I believe those who volunteer for difficult jobs deserve special consideration. When I think of the job you have to do, which is not only to guide your people through the crisis and, G.o.d willing, the restoration of your home, but also the risks you must take and the choices you must make of what is essential and what is to be left behind, I want you to know that I feel with you from heart to heart."

When Rabbi Schachter finished, the Dalai Lama grasped his hand between his two palms and thanked him softly.

I liked Zalman's personal gesture. It humanized the situation after so much grand talk-and worry-about formalities. And already he was showing us how the Dalai Lama could be seen as a kind of Hasidic master. Just as the Tibetans believed the Dalai Lama to be the fourteenth incarnation of his lineage, so the Hasidim also believe, in the words of Louis Jacobs, that "G.o.d sent down from heaven the lofty souls of the Baal Shem Tov and his disciples to illumine the darkness of exile" in the old Russian Pale.

Nathan Katz had stressed that we construct memory in the present to create our ident.i.ty. If so, the mainstream American Jewish religious ident.i.ty has become highly exoteric, with strong emphasis on ethnicity and the politics of Israel. In such a context, Rabbi Schachter explained, "our teachings have been kept secret even from Jews for a long time. So every day, when people get up and say their prayers, there is an exoteric order. But hidden inside the exoteric is the esoteric, the deep attunement, the deep way."

The deep way is the way of the kabbalah, "tradition" or "what is received." Kabbalah claims an ancient origin, has been pa.s.sed from master to student mostly through an oral tradition, has drawn its inspiration from canonical texts, mainly Genesis, the Song of Songs, and Ezekiel, and has produced over the centuries a rich written literature, whose major works include the cryptic Sefer Yetzirah Sefer Yetzirah ( (Book of Formation), and the florid and lengthy Zohar, or Book of Splendor Zohar, or Book of Splendor.

Hoping to show the Dalai Lama points of contact and similarity between kabbalah and Buddhist tantra, Rabbi Schachter framed his entire presentation in Tibetan Buddhist terms. "I have been told," he said, "that Tibetans want to know the view, the path, and the goal." As he spoke, he flipped the pages of a chart he'd prepared in magic marker on a poster-sized pad-the chart was full of annotations in Hebrew, English, and Tibetan-with smatterings of Sanskrit thrown in too. "And a friend did this here to say it in Tibetan"-the friend was Nathan Katz-"and I hope this is clear and transparent. I don't know what it means."

Everyone laughed and the Dalai Lama ribbed him, referring to the opening blessing, "You know Tibetan now, so you should get it right." It occurred to me that thanks to Nathan Katz, Hebrew and Tibetan had met for the first time as holy languages.

In Tibetan Buddhist teaching, the view is a fundamental orientation toward the nature, cause, and elimination of suffering. The path is a definite method of spiritual improvement through systematic meditations. The goal is to become a bodhisattva bodhisattva, a living buddha, whose great compa.s.sion will help all sentient beings eliminate their suffering.

Zalman wished to present the very different view, path, and goal of mystical Judaism. Where Buddhism begins with the nature of mind and its suffering, the kabbalistic view presents a cosmology. This map of the universe is based on a mystical interpretation of the primordial acts of creation in Genesis. When kabbalists read Genesis, they see not one, but four, worlds being created. The four supernal worlds correspond to the four letters of G.o.d's name-yod, he, vov, and he he. The chart looked like this: [image]Yod [image]He Fire Spirit Emanation Air Mind Creation Intuition Atziluth Knowing Beriah [image]Vov Water Heart Formation Feeling Yet zirah [image]He Earth Body Function Doing a.s.siyah Zalman's interpretation of this cosmology had a decidedly psychological cast. "Each of the letters," he told the Dalai Lama, "represents a realm of the spirit or consciousness," namely the body, heart, mind, and spirit. "So the first part of prayer gets into the body and says to G.o.d, 'Thank you for the body,' and prepares the body. The second part of prayer takes you to the heart and it says, 'I want to attune myself to gratefulness to G.o.d,' to say, 'Oh, this is a good world, oh, this is wonderful, the sun is rising. I want to give thanks.' Up here in the realm of air you go to thinking, to wisdom, to trying to understand and to know. Then, going up to the highest place-the fire-there it isn't knowledge with the head, it is intuition."

The last word was unfamiliar and the Dalai Lama conferred with Karma Gelek in Tibetan. Zalman explained that intuition was "knowing by being rather than with your head."

"Knowing something automatically, spontaneously," the Dalai Lama suggested.

Zalman nodded. "And by ident.i.ty." He pointed to the Dalai Lama. "I know you now as an other." He pointed to his palm. "You know yourself as a self. If I were to know you as you know yourself, that would be intuition."

Zalman's presentation correlated the four worlds with the elements: earth, water, air, and fire. When the Dalai Lama commented that in Buddhism there are also four elements, "and sometimes we add a fifth element, s.p.a.ce," Zalman smiled like a teacher to an eager student, saying, "I'll come to that in a moment."

The four worlds cosmology comes straight out of the Lurianic kabbalah, as transmitted through the early Hasidic masters and finally formulated by the Chabad Hasidism of the late eighteenth-century rabbi Schneur Zalman, founder of the Lubavitch sect. Rabbi Schachter's update blended Lubavitch teachings with contemporary psychology, opening up to me the utility of an otherwise remote mystical doctrine.

Moreover, the complex road map Rabbi Schachter presented is not just for looking, but for traveling. It shows the destinations for which prayer is the vehicle. I had experienced some of this with Zalman first in London, and more in Dharamsala. Now I was hearing the theoretical underpinning for his davening practice. It certainly wasn't anything I'd ever been taught in Reform Jewish synagogue, where intense prayer would probably have been regarded as eccentric and embarra.s.sing.

But in the Hasidic tradition, when one davens with true kavvanah kavvanah, the four worlds of body, heart, mind, and spirit are called upon. Specific kavvanot kavvanot, or meditations, are used to connect the words of a given prayer to the sefirot sefirot, thereby directing the prayer to the supernal realms. Through prayer, recited with inward intention, one rises from world to world to reach the goal of nearness to G.o.d.

There is an interesting connection to Buddhist thought when one reaches the level of nearness, or atziluth atziluth. But before Zalman could explain it to the Dalai Lama, the conversation took a detour. It happened this way. As Zalman gestured toward the second world on the chart, yetzirah yetzirah, he mentioned casually that devas devas inhabit that realm, "according to our tradition." inhabit that realm, "according to our tradition."

The Dalai Lama interrupted. "What do you mean when you say deva deva?" In attempting to translate from Jewish to Buddhist, Zalman had used the Sanskrit term for a Buddhist deity. Though Buddhists do not believe in a single Creator Deity, they do speak of G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses. Some devas devas were depicted on the were depicted on the thangkas thangkas we had seen in Tsuglakhang as guardians of the dharma. Others are regarded as actual G.o.ds and demons belonging to the six orders of sentient beings. Still another interpretation is that we had seen in Tsuglakhang as guardians of the dharma. Others are regarded as actual G.o.ds and demons belonging to the six orders of sentient beings. Still another interpretation is that devas devas are symbols or mental projections. are symbols or mental projections.

Zalman retranslated. By devas devas, he meant angels.

That touched off something magical in the Dalai Lama. For the next half hour the cosmic view was lost in a close-up of angels, angels, angels.

"When we speak of angels," Zalman explained, "we mean by that beings of such large consciousness"-he pointed to his forehead-"that if an angel's consciousness were to flow into my head right now, it would be too much for me." He raised his eyebrows, and his streimel streimel started to slide off his head. It was right out of Charlie Chaplin. An expansive angel was flipping Zalman's lid. started to slide off his head. It was right out of Charlie Chaplin. An expansive angel was flipping Zalman's lid.

The rabbi straightened his streimel streimel and continued, "There are all kinds of angels. So that higher and higher for instance, we think each nation has an angel. Right now there's an angel of Tibet and an angel of Jews that are also talking on another level. So I believe if we do it right, the Angel of Jews will put words in my mouth and the Angel of Tibet will hear them in you-and vice versa. The dialogue is not only on this plane." and continued, "There are all kinds of angels. So that higher and higher for instance, we think each nation has an angel. Right now there's an angel of Tibet and an angel of Jews that are also talking on another level. So I believe if we do it right, the Angel of Jews will put words in my mouth and the Angel of Tibet will hear them in you-and vice versa. The dialogue is not only on this plane."

And with those words, it no longer was.

The Dalai Lama was full of questions. He leaned forward, and the robe he had earlier wrapped so tightly around himself slipped off his shoulder, revealing his bare forearm and shoulder.

"This angel...Do you regard just one angel or many angels?"

Zalman answered with great delight, "Oh, many, many, many. Realms of angels."

"When you say Angel of Tibet, Angel of Jews, there are many?"

"First, on the lower level, each family, each group, each city has angels, but on the highest level there is one who contains and represents the consciousness of the totality. If I were to speak in terms of mythic language, we act out what they are doing." As Zalman spoke the Dalai Lama responded, oh, oh, oh, to each point.

"So generally," the Dalai Lama asked, "do you consider angels as servants of G.o.d?"

"Yes, including the black one, including Satan. All are doing G.o.d's work. All is in oneness, nothing is outside of G.o.d."

"Between the angels there are positive and negative? Or generally positive?"

"It goes like this. Even the negative ones are positive. Their job is sometimes to create negative energy. For instance, as I look at thangkas thangkas and see wrathful deities, I have the sense that the wrathful deities are also in the service of the cosmos, except that their energies sometimes have to come with strengths and fire and severity. So that's how it's seen. There are angels for rewarding people and for imparting wisdom and angels also for punishing and for testing. This is in our tradition." and see wrathful deities, I have the sense that the wrathful deities are also in the service of the cosmos, except that their energies sometimes have to come with strengths and fire and severity. So that's how it's seen. There are angels for rewarding people and for imparting wisdom and angels also for punishing and for testing. This is in our tradition."

Zalman wanted to move on, but the Dalai Lama interrupted, "So even those angels, do you believe they have different colors?" (He'd picked up on Zalman's reference to Satan as the black one.) His voice rose with interest.

Reb Zalman answered warmly, "Oh, yes, yes. The description goes, there are fire angels, seraphim." He handed his charts to Nathan Katz and stood up to demonstrate. "Isaiah says there are angels with six wings." Zalman held out his arms, flapping his hands. "With two they cover their feet, with two they cover their faces, and with two they fly. And when the angels raise up their wings, they stand like a menorah." He lifted his arms into the air.

The Dalai Lama turned to his translator, Laktor. "Menorah?"

"Like a candleholder," the monk whispered back.

Rabbi Schachter added, "With six branches. So we say kadosh, kadosh, kadosh kadosh, kadosh, kadosh-holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts." At each kadosh kadosh, Zalman moved his wings from thighs to face to flying position-and then finished the prayer, "the whole earth is full of his glory"-sweeping his right arm. He was an angel standing on high, viewing the whole earth spread below him.

The Dalai Lama was delighted. "Oh, beautiful," he said.