by Yanki TauberBOAT

(The Shavuoth Holiday marks the Yartzeit anniverary of King David, the author of the Psalms, and Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, the founder of the spiritual Chassidic Movement. Following is an English rendition of the Baal Shem Tov's commentary on a verse of Psalm 104: "Those who descend to the seas in boats, who do work in the many waters; they see and appreciate the wonders of G-d...")

People love to boat. Offer them a spin out on the water -- be it a luxury cruise on the ocean or a sail across the lake -- and most people will readily forsake terra firma for a precarious, shaky and tossing vessel that holds them hostage until they return to shore. They will thoroughly enjoy every minute of this adventurous ride.

Man is a land fish. A fish cannot survive long out of water -- man cannot, unaided, survive in water. To brave the nautical expanses that surround and thread our continents, we need a boat -- a vessel that keeps us above water, insulates us from its dangers, and navigates its seething surface,

Boats actually inhibit our freedom. On land, we can walk around for miles in any direction, while on a boat we are limited. We have only a few square yards to move around. The greatest ships give us, at most, onl y an acre or two of room to get around.

Many rules and restrictions govern our behavior on a boat, including how and where to sit, stand, or walk, what to wear, where to sail and when.

The sailor must constantly consult weather charts and tide timetables, be proficient in the proper use of signals and maneuvers, and dutifully record every step and action in the ship's log.

Yet, despite the great danger and discomfort, boating is a thrill and a pleasure. We love to pit ourselves against an alien, threatening environment, and conquer it.

The boat and the regulations that govern its use, are our arms in such a war of survival. They are a burden of joy, because battle with the adversary is the underlying source of pleasure in everything we do, whether we ostensibly label it "work," "sport" or "recreation.

The soul of a man is a sailor. Its natural habitat is the world of spirit, a world pulsating with Divine light and life; a world where its relationship with its Creator is on firm ground. Yet the soul ventures forth from the comfortable, safe and protected heavens to brave the turbulent waters of a material world -- a cold and dark environment that threatens to extiguish the "candle of G-d" that is the soul of man. A sea of apathy that threatens to suffocate all that is holy, warm and alive; a sea of anxieties and cares -- great and petty, real and imagined -- that threatens to overwhelm the soul's memory of its origins and its commitment to its mission in life.

To navigate these turbulent waters, the soul is provided with a craft that keeps it afloat, safe from the engulfing materialism of physical life, enabling it to ride its rises and falls, its eddies and swells, and propels it on its course across this alien environment.

This boat is the Torah and its Mitzvot, a vessel of sanctity that holds man, open to heavens but sealed against the waters about and below. This vessel empowers man to traverse the length and breadth of the material world; but should he, G-d forbid, forsake the boat, or allow a breach or fissure to develop in its hull, or disregard of its rules of operation -- he endangers his spiritual life and jeopardizes his entire mission and voyage.

There are those who, forgetting their true source and their real identity, may look upon their boat and its regulations as constraints on their freedom. But the good sailor remembers that material life is actually a voyage from spiritual shore to spiritual shore, who knows the thrill of challenging the sea and is aware of its dangers and trained to overcome them. To him or her, sailing the craft is a vital skill, a labor of love, an exhilarating battle. And above all, a real pleasure.