Nahafokh Hu: The Upside-Down Wisdom We Need Right Now

Nahafokh Hu: The Upside-Down Wisdom We Need Right Now

Feb 11, 2026 | Blog, by Rebecca Schisler, Core Faculty, Institute for Jewish Spirituality

There is a phrase at the heart of the Purim story: nahafokh hu, “it was turned upside down.” The very moment when destruction seemed certain became the moment of redemption. Everything reversed, inside became outside, and the hidden became revealed. 

These days, we don’t have to stretch our imaginations far to feel the resonance of this theme — we can simply turn on the news. In our country and our world, so much feels inside out and upside down. Nahafokh hu— we know this feeling. 

And yet, the story of Purim has some ancient and hard-won wisdom for us on finding joy and choosing life even when forces of chaos swirl around us. 

Consider Queen Esther: she lives inside the palace of a volatile King, hiding her identity, navigating a world of power and danger. The wicked Haman has decreed the destruction of her people, and Mordechai tells us she must go before the king uninvited, an act punishable by death, to plead for their lives. 

Esther hesitates, and Morchedai says to her, “U’mi yodea im l’eit kazot higa’at l’malkhut?”— “and who knows whether it was for such a time as this that you attained your royal position?” (Esther 4:14). 

Who knows? Maybe you were made for this moment. 

Hard times create a doorway into a deeper sense of courage and purpose that comfortable times simply do not require of us. Esther could have stayed silent to protect herself. Instead, she fasted for three days, gathered her strength, and stepped forward into her purpose. Perhaps the moments where we feel most tempted to hide are precisely the moments we were placed here to meet. 

On a deeper level, Esther’s story is one about a human response to the experience of divine concealment. One of the most interesting things about the Book of Esther is that God’s name does not appear in it. The very name Esther is understood by the rabbis as connected to the Hebrew word hester — hiddenness. Hester panim, the hiding of God’s face. 

And yet our tradition teaches that within this hiddenness, the divine is even more present. Perhaps this is because when God’s face is hidden, the opportunity is created for us to bring sanctity into the world, to intervene in profound acts of courage and love, and to create miracles among ourselves. In hard times, when the presence of God is difficult to perceive, we must find love and goodness within ourselves and share it with one another. We become the revelation. 

This is why the mitzvot of Purim are so deeply relational. Mishloach manot— sending gifts of food to friends and neighbors. Matanot l’evyonim— giving gifts to those in need. These practices are the spiritual core of this holiday. When the world turns upside down, we take care of one another. We affirm that we are in this together. 

And we affirm that life’s preciousness is worth protecting. As Shabbat departs each week, in the bittersweet moment of havdallah, we sing a line drawn from the Megillah itself: “LaYehudim haitah orah v’simcha v’sasson vikar” — “For the Jews there was light and gladness, joy and honor” (Esther 8:16). We sing these words as a reminder — even as the holiness of Shabbat seems to slip away, even as we return to the ordinary and sometimes painful world, these realities have not disappeared. They are still available to us. Light, gladness, joy, and honor are prophecies of a coming future. They are qualities we can invoke and embody right now.

To invoke light, gladness and joy in times of fear is not denial. It is courageous and sacred. When we feel plunged into distortion and chaos, when we feel that everything is upside down and inside out — let us remember this line. Let us remember the future. Let us open to the embrace of the wisdom traditions that have rooted and carried our people though many moments of chaos and upheaval — and will continue to do so. 

This Adar, may we find our inner Esther. May we remember the presence of hidden holiness, and the importance of joy in resilience and resistance. May we take care of ourselves and one another with open hearts and hands. And may we have the courage to step forward into the purpose for which we were made.

Entering into the Ark of Prayer

Entering into the Ark of Prayer

Oct 23, 2025 | Blog, by Rebecca Schisler, Core Faculty, Institute for Jewish Spirituality

The Hebrew month of Cheshvan brings a welcome relief from the spiritual highs of Tishrei— we get to take a break from large communal gatherings and integrate all that transpired for us during the high holidays. With more space for solitude and intimate time at home, we have a chance to bring renewed energy to the inner work of spiritual practice and prayer. In ancient Israel, Cheshvan is when people began to pray for rain. 

From a spiritual perspective, rain represents all that we need for life to bloom forth and flourish; it symbolizes the possibility of sustenance, and the union of heaven and earth. Our tradition teaches that unlike dew, the proper rainfall in its season is dependent upon our prayers and deeds. Following the description of six days of creation, Torah says that vegetation had not yet sprouted upon the earth because it had not yet rained, as there was no human to work the land. Rashi, citing the midrash, comments that the rain had not yet fallen upon the earth because there was no human to pray for it. Indeed, the midrash seems to suggest that the human being was essentially created to pray for rain. Our mystical tradition teaches that we as humans are the intermediaries between heaven and earth, and the channel that makes that connection possible is prayer. 

This month, we might focus on revitalizing our prayer practices. We can bring mindfulness here by unifying our body, heart and mind within the action of prayer itself. The Baal Shem Tov shares some beautiful instructions on this via his homiletic reading of God’s command to Noah: “Make a shining stone for the ark.” The Baal Shem Tov points out that the word “ark” in Hebrew— teivah— can also be translated as “word.” The verse continues, “Come, you and your entire household, into the teivah.” A person must go deeply inside of the words of prayer, bringing their heart, attention, and all of their being— their full household— to the words, until they begin to sparkle like a glass window through which the divine can radiate. 

This approach to prayer invites a slowing down. You might choose just one verse from the prayer book to focus on, bringing all of your attention to each word until you can sense its meaning in your heart and even in your body, and then proceed to the next. As an example, you can nurture this practice with a simple morning prayer— 

“Modeh ani l’fanecha, ruach chai v’kayam” — Grateful am I before you, living and eternal spirit” — or “Elohai neshama shenatata bi tehorah hi” — “My God, the soul that you have given me is pure.”

Slow down enough to feel the essence of every single word. Notice the impact it has on your mind, and on your heart. 

May our practice and our prayers in this watery month of Cheshvan allow all that transpired in the high holidays to soak deeply into our beings, so that we can embody and nourish the seeds of our intentions for the year ahead.

The Tikkun of Speech in Nissan

The Tikkun of Speech in Nissan

Apr 1, 2025 | Blog, by Rebecca Schisler, Core Faculty, Institute for Jewish Spirituality

Each month offers an opportunity for a tikkun (“repair”), a rectification of some aspect of our being. The month of Nissan, this season of spring awakening and liberation, invites us into the tikkun of speech.

Pesach literally means “mouth speaks,” and it is known that how we utilize our voices, words, songs, and speech is key to our redemption from mitzrayim, from the narrow places of our lives.

I deeply appreciate a teaching from Reb Nachman via his disciple Reb Nosson that there are four levels of speech associated with the four cups of wine we drink at the Passover seder. Thus, the seder can be a journey through our rectification of these four levels, which both build upon each other and are interpenetrating.

The first level is adam b’tzalmo – a person and their self. This represents our self-talk. Are we speaking to ourselves with love and kindness? When we notice highly critical or self-shaming voices, can we pause and actually think or speak kinder words to ourselves?

The second level is adam v’chavero – a person and their friend. This is how we talk to one another. Are we doing so with love, honesty, clarity, and respect, seeing the other person as b’tzelem Elohim, created in the divine image? When someone says something upsetting, can we practice pausing to better support ourselves in responding wisely and thoughtfully rather than reacting?

The third level is tefillah – adam v’makom – this is how a person talks to the divine, what we call prayer. How might we rectify our prayer lives this season? Are we speaking to God as if our prayers matter, as if they are truly being received? Are we speaking from our hearts, from authenticity, or just engaging in liturgical recitation by rote? Are we praying at all?

The fourth level is nevuah – this is when the divine speaks through us, what our tradition calls prophecy. What does it mean, what does it take, what does it feel like to make oneself available as a tzinor, a channel for a greater loving intelligence to flow through us? How do we become an instrument of the divine? Perhaps when we attend to those first three levels of speech, we can be better prepared for the deeper listening that makes possible the channeling of truth in ways that others can fully receive.

Our tradition teaches that words create worlds. Bringing attention and renewed energy this month to our speech is a profoundly important spiritual practice if we are to co-create the more beautiful world for which our hearts yearn.

As we approach Pesach this year, may we remember to slow down enough to listen before we speak. May our words be fitting vessels for the truth of our hearts so that they may be received by those who need to hear them. And may we each know the delight of expressing our truth in authentic, beautiful, and healing ways.

Finding God in the Depths

Finding God in the Depths

Nov 13, 2024 | Blog, by Rebecca Schisler, Core Faculty, Institute for Jewish Spirituality

In times of darkness and struggle, what if the deepest divine connection is found not in the absence of hardship, but in the raw, authentic moments of longing and love shared with others? This teaching from Rebecca Schisler is an invitation to discover that the true power of the divine is always present—one breath, one moment, one prayer away—ready to be felt even in the most challenging of times.