This week's newsletter uses the story of Noah and the flood to reflect on this challenging moment.
michael
A word of Torah:
The story of Noah and the flood begins: “The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness.” Eerily the Hebrew word for lawlessness is hamas. How does one talk about what happened in Israel and what is happening in Gaza? Does it require being on one side of the conflict or the other? Does any attempt to understand the suffering on all sides make things even worse?
The story of Noah offers two models of how to live with people who have committed serious crimes. God regrets creating human beings and decides to wipe out humanity and start again. Noah builds an ark and places two of every animal in the world (including predators) who have to live together in close and closed quarters for a lengthy time. At the end, he sends out a dove to see if the waters have receded. The dove returns with an olive branch, which becomes the symbol of peace.
In response to the flood, God promises to never destroy the world again. A multicolored rainbow becomes the symbol of human diversity. However, humanity is not fundamentally different after the flood. At that moment, I believe God understands that the flood was a mistake. Genocide is never a solution.
What should we humans do with the unending conflicts of the world? What should our response be to the deliberate murder of children? The Hasidic masters interpret the phrase in Genesis 6:16– tzohar aseh le-teyvah/ (literally: Make an opening for daylight) -- to mean that we should bring light into the word (in Hebrew teyvah can also mean word). How do we bring light in a world so full of darkness and chaos, where the future can seem so uncertain?
We imitate God who created our world by saying, “Let there be…and there was”. For with all the chaos and confusion we are experiencing, we still have control over what we say. We use words to make clear where we stand and what we value. We do that in two key ways. We remember that God tells Abraham the essence of God’s way (derekh Adonai) isrighteousness and justice (Gen. 18:19). Abraham demonstrates his profound understanding of God’s way by immediately speaking truth to power. He challenges God over the decision to destroy all the people of Sodom. Abraham’s challenge focuses on the small number of righteous people in Sodom—not on the vast majority of Sodom who are famous for their wickedness. Abraham sees no problem in punishing people who have treated others badly. It is also worth noting that Abraham is not speaking out for his people or his interests.
The other way we shape the world with words is not to oppress people with the way we talk. The rabbis call that onaat devarim. They realize words can oppress just as much as actions. Since all people are created in the Divine image, people cannot be described as animals. All de-humanizing language is a desecration of God’s name, which is inscribed on every human being. The halakha teaches that even the corpse of a criminal who was executed for a capital crime needs to be treated with dignity and therefore cannot be left hanging overnight.
In this moment, we must not only hold on to the light but resist the temptation to be pulled toward darkness by our enemies. We hold on to the light ever more tightly in our grasp hoping it will become brighter.
Kavvanah/intention:
God of the spirit of all flesh,
Here we are before You, broken spirits, torn by grief;
have mercy on us, mortals created in your Image.
Watch over us in a time of destruction and tragedy, terror, death and panic.
Please, please:
may our compassion be revealed, may the love within us
overwhelm the harsh judgment, vengeance and evil within us.
Behold: fierce, burning pain cries out, seeking revenge, not comfort.
Watch over us, Shekhinah, our strength,
over our scorched spirits, our terrified souls,
over our completely infuriated flesh.
May the Divine Image rise, shining like the dawn,
from our crushed hearts.
May we have faith that we will merit
to witness the goodness of the Holy One,
the goodness of humankind,
in the land of the living.
Amen
Melilah Helner-Eshed
Song
Al eleh ani bokhiah
ha-tikhyenah ha'atzamot ha-eleh
Over these we weep;
Can these bones live again
The words for this song are taken from Lamentations and from Ezekiel's vision of the valley of the dry bones. It is a lament and a question and a hope that what has been lost in Israel's spirit can be revived.
