The joy described by Ramba”m is not an external performance of tomfoolery; it possesses a dimension of bodily freedom and forgetting of the self, which together create a different kind of opening and an alternate approach to mitzvot fulfilment.
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Joy as the Body’s Liberation
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Breaking through the limits of words discussed above is very connected to joy - a happiness that has been a central point from the story’s beginning and is also related to the body. For this topic, we can turn to the words of the Rambam on joy in the fulfilment of a mitzvah:
The joy which a person derives from doing good deeds and from loving God, who has commanded us to practice them, is a supreme form of divine worship. Anyone who refrains from experiencing this joy deserves punishment, as it is written: “Because you have not served the Lord your God with joy and with a glad heart” (Deuteronomy 28:47). Anyone who is arrogant and insists on self-glory on such occasions is both a sinner and a fool. King Solomon had this in mind when he said: “Do not glorify yourself in the presence of the King” (Proverbs 25:6). On the other hand, anyone who humbles himself on such occasions is indeed great and honored, for he serves the Lord out of love. David, King of Israel, expressed this thought when he said: “I will make myself even more contemptible than this, humbling myself in my own eyes” (II Samuel 6:22). True greatness and honor are attained only by rejoicing before the Lord, as it is written: “King David was leaping and dancing before the Lord” (II Samuel 6:16).
(Mishneh Torah, Sefer Zmanim, Hilchot Shofar, Sukkah and Lulav, Chapter 8: Halacha 15, Translation from Sefaria)
Ramba”m’s model for the joy of a mitzvah is King David leaping and frolicking before the Ark of G-d. This is not a moderate, restrained joy; it is one that bursts from the body, leading to actions that - in another context - would be considered irreverent, even disrespectful. We might mention here the custom of one of the early hassidim, Rav Avraham Kalisker, who used to pray in a headstand. The mitnagdim heaped harsh criticism upon him, and one can understand their fear - imagine how such an action could affect prayer!
By mentioning David’s dancing, the Ramba”m connects the joy of mitzvot to Michal bat Shaul’s criticism (which is mentioned alongside her bareness in the text). This is a hassidic reading: why didn’t Michal bat Shaul die childless? It is because her brand of derision was a sterilizing action: anxiety about personal honor creates an outside perspective that fixes the body in place, choking out the vitality needed for fertility. The joy described by Ramba”m is not an external performance of tomfoolery; it possesses a dimension of bodily freedom and forgetting of the self, which together create a different kind of opening and an alternate approach to mitzvot fulfilment. Movement creates an opening that would not otherwise be possible for the body, paralyzed as it is by a mask of respectability.
Usually, standing still in prayer is an expression of fear - fear of the body’s movement. The Ramba”m, however, praises the one who “lightens (מקל) his body.” We might understand this as opposition to an ‘inflated’ self-respect, but it might also be seen as a physical note - a call to make one’s body an actual bow, a stick, to allow it to move, respond to the chaotic cycles of the body which are themselves a sublime Torah. Through this Torah, it is possible to open up new possibilities in prayer in particular, and in the fulfilment of mitzvot in general.
Often in creative disciplines, the body becomes the source of an expression that departs from the realm of the word. I once spoke to a baal teshuva composer about his creative method. He said that he would do ‘quieting’ exercises, forgetting himself. The melody would then form in his stomach, starting from the bottom and rising until it emerged into the open air. He described the creation of a melody as a specifically physical experience, an experience that required liberation from a usual position of controlled perception. The melody I am speaking of is not background music, a pleasant accessory to life; it is a rapturous event of liberation from distress, from the shackles of our day to day consciousness. You cannot stay in one position and expect that sort of creation to rise; you must shake the basic foundations of existence. This is the very ‘leaping and frolicking’ of Ramba”m, standing in front of the Ark of Rav Levi Yitzchak, the light expanding into perception (המתפלש בנתפס) of Rav Kook – and the sippurey maasiyos of Rav Nachman. They all lead to one point - a Torah that comes from the body, from movement, from a change in consciousness; from a liberation of everyday language, a space in which what comes out is not entirely in your control. These are the instantaneous expressions born of a single moment, and they have a touch of the Ein Sof, the Divine.