OCTOBER 16, 2026 11:59

“And God said to Noah, ‘Come into the teiva, you and all your household’” (Gen. 7:1).

The teiva - the ark - stands as a central symbol in the parasha: a refuge that bears Noah, his family, and the animals across the Flood waters to a fresh beginning.

Yet the Hebrew term “teiva” carries another sense. It can signify “a word.” The Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Hassidic movement in the 18th century, reads “Bo el hateiva” (“Come into the ark”) as a call to enter the words of prayer.

This insight begins “Amud Hatefila” - “The Pillar of Prayer” - a broad collection of his thoughts on prayer drawn from Baal Shem Tov al HaTorah, parashat Noah.

Here the ark serves as the foundation for a full vision of prayer marked by deep focus, connection to the holy letters, and recognition of the Divine presence inside them.

In prayer, he explains, one should absorb each word “with your whole body and all your powers.” Instead of letting the words slip by unnoticed, we are encouraged to live them completely.

'Worlds, souls, and Divinity'

The Baal Shem Tov extends the idea. Inside every letter lie “worlds, souls, and Divinity.” When letters combine into words, prayer becomes more than recited phrases. The teiva turns into a spiritual realm that can contain and transport us.

Yoram Raanan’s painting captures this view of “teiva” in vivid form. He made the piece freely, letting paint flow and drip over the surface. From that open process, a vessel took shape. Its broad curved outline occupies the lower portion, while tall vertical strokes rise like poles above it.

Inside the vessel’s outline, a stringed instrument, perhaps a lute, appeared. The curved base becomes the instrument’s body, and the upright lines serve visually as both poles and strings. Vessel and instrument share one shape - one bears us onward, the other gives sound a voice.

Above them, small shapes move across the wide blue-green space. Some look like golden birds, others like drifting clouds, while still others stay harder to name. “They intermingle,” Raanan notes, “like the words of prayer.”

The change fits the Baal Shem Tov’s reading of “teiva.” The vessel bears us; the instrument voices prayer. The word acts as both container and tone.

Across the painting, shapes appear to change and merge. Water turns into sky. Vessel turns into lute. Birds and other shapes seem to move between different planes.

The painting shows in visual terms something hard to put into words: to enter the teiva is not simply to speak a prayer, but to step into its tone, its motion, and the world it holds. Just as the ark carried its passengers through the Flood, the words of prayer can become a vessel that carries us.

Yet the ark does more than transport. It also shields. When the world outside grows stormy, the teiva provides shelter.

The Baal Shem Tov’s teaching adds an inner layer to this old image. In hard or unsettled times, we too can discover a protective space inside sacred words and prayer.

And Raanan’s lute suggests one more option: music, too, can serve as shelter. Sound passes through us and shifts our mood, bearing us when words fall short.

This picture holds special meaning right after the round of Jewish holidays. We have come out of weeks of prayer, thought, joy, and holy time, and suddenly we return to the usual pace of the year.

The Baal Shem Tov’s teaching shows a way to keep part of that experience: the words of prayer can bear and steady us as we move into the year ahead.

Noah could not stay in the ark forever. At last the waters fell, the door opened, and he stepped onto solid ground to start again. The ark had carried him through the Flood; now he had to shape life anew.

Raanan’s teiva, at once ark and lute, seems to hold both options. The ark offers shelter; the lute supplies a song for the path. We enter the teiva, and it carries us into the year ahead.

The writer is the author of Art of Revelation: A Visual Encounter with the Jewish Bible, a commentary on the paintings of her husband, artist Yoram Raanan. She teaches Jewish meditation and is currently writing ‘Art of Transformation,’ a book exploring the relationship between art, Jewish spirituality, and inner transformation, from which this article is adapted.