In our ongoing cycle of readings, the Torah's chief concern these days is a Hebrew named Joseph who rose nearly to the top of the political hierarchy in a non-Jewish land, as reported in this week’s Torah portion, Miketz. Most remarkable about Joseph’s ascension to the center stage of Egyptian political life is his candor about his faith, his open acknowledgment of God. From the Palace to the peasantry, Joseph brings God to Egypt’s dinner tables.
While in Egypt, Joseph, having endured two years of imprisonment in the royal dungeon, heeds the Pharaoh’s summons. His eyes still adjusting to the palace light, Joseph receives Pharaoh’s challenge: “I have had a dream, but no one can interpret it. Now I have heard it said of you that for you to hear a dream is to tell its meaning.” Joseph, standing in a court of idolaters and sorcerors, at the seat of a nation that enshrines its Pharaohs as gods, replies without flinching: “Not I!” says he. “God will see to Pharaoh’s welfare” (Gen. 41:15-16). As Joseph proceeds to offer an interpretation for Pharaoh’s dream, he interjects along the way: “God has told Pharaoh what he is about to do” (41:25); “God has revealed [it] to Pharaoh” (41:28); “the matter has been determined by God, and God will soon carry it out” (41:32).
The beloved 20th-Century scholar Nehama Leibowitz, of blessed memory, points out that through this deliberate, repeated invocation of God, “even Pharaoh took the hint,” saying: “…Since God has made all this known to you, there is none so discerning and wise as you” (41:38-39). As Leibowitz puts it, “Pharaoh, king of Egypt defers for the first time to the supreme King of kings” (Studies in Bereshit, 442). Joseph’s courageous, outspoken references to God impress this most idolatrous of ancient societies, from the throne to the throngs.
A number of years ago, another Joseph emerged in a similar political position. Senator Joseph Lieberman’s openly acknowledged Jewish piety made a similar impression in American life. Many Jews took Lieberman's public religiosity as a point of pride. But before long, his God-talk started to freak some people out, Jews in particular. For some, it was too much: it’s one thing to request Saturdays off; it’s quite another to recite “Shehechiyanu” (even in English) on national TV.
Why do so many Jews feel uncomfortable with God-talk? Most of us rightly wish to see the separation of Church and State enforced at every level, and justifiably fear the damage done to this essential principle at the hands of fundamentalists. Jews work especially hard to protect civil liberties, ensuring that public schools and courtrooms do not become bastions of Church indoctrination. God-talk has appeared threatening or obnoxious to the Jews, when it has really meant, “our God – not yours.” Most of us rightly wish to avoid, as well, a rigidly doctrinal approach to religion, where the fervor of belief determines who is a good Jew. For these reasons and more, many Reform Jews speak of God haltingly, if at all.
But why should any Joseph’s personal devotion to God—abundantly evident, but never with the intention to missionize—elicit not joy, not pride, but discomfort?
Now more than ever we could benefit from welcoming God-talk into our lives: in routine affairs, in religious school, and at home. Even as we try to express that God is everywhere, we teach by word and deed that God does not belong in daily discourse, in our education, or at home. We say that God is everywhere, but we confine God to the synagogue. No wonder our conceptions of God often remain stifled, nebulous, and child-like well into our adulthood.
When I advise bringing God-talk into daily life, please do not hear me clamoring to bring the Bible to the courtroom or benedictions to the classroom…. Far from it. I’m talking about recognizing a Power higher than ourselves, finding a sense of Purpose in our actions and in the world, seeing the Potential for holiness and divinity in a world too often obsessed with the mundane, or worse, the vulgar.
America, despite its banner “one nation, under God,” celebrates the self so as to blur the line between self-respect and self-aggrandizement. America promotes hard work and self-reliance, but too often it rewards egotism, ruthless self-promotion, and the worship of celebrity. What was so refreshing about Joseph Lieberman—and his biblical namesake—was the insistence that their glory and honor derived not from their merit alone, but, ultimately, from God.
Maybe our reluctance to welcome God-talk into our daily lives comes from a sense that God is to be found only in the spectacular. It’s a notion enforced by Bible-literalists, faith healers, and even, on occasion, by our own prayer book. Sometimes, looking in vain for a supernatural sign, we miss the Presence of God in the godly deeds of a caring person, in the daily miracle of new life and life renewed, in the triumphs of intellect and compassion over ignorance and bigotry, in the artist’s brushstrokes and the poet’s arrangement of words, in the architecture of Creation, in the human capacity to dream.
A famous passage relates that the prophet Elijah finds God not in wind, or earthquake, or fire, but in a "still, small voice" (I Kings 19:11-13). By getting away from spectacular depictions of God—the impossibly majestic celestial Deity, all knowing and all powerful, who works miracles and wonders, who rewards the good and punishes the wicked—we open ourselves to more subtle forms of divinity. We begin to see the potential for God in the least expected places. It is, after all, in a dungeon that Joseph first perceives God in his life. Even in Egypt, Joseph learned, there was room for God.
We do agree that God-talk can be problematic in our public schools. That’s why we send them to religious school, goes the answer. But few Reform Jewish religious schools make the exploration of God—we call that theology—even a peripheral part of the curriculum. As part of an ongoing revitalization of our religious school curriculum, it will be essential—and exciting—to have God acknowledged, discussed, debated, and taught in our religious school, as a centerpiece of our religious education. Jews have always honored study as a religious experience. It is said that in prayer, we speak to God; in studying Torah and the sacred traditions of Judaism, God speaks to us.
Children want to talk about God—they want to wrestle with Big Questions: Why are we here? Why does suffering exist? Why choose good over evil? In sprawling late-night conversations with my college roommates, I discovered that these questions all lead to an exploration of God. In our religious school especially, God is too big to ignore.
The same holds true in our homes. We cannot leave the religious education of our children entirely up to the Temple (excellent as WRT's program is). So if we want to help our children learn morality, goodness, holiness, mitzvot, responsibility, and the other attributes of godliness, we’re going to have to talk about God! For many, the birds-and-the-bees talk is easier. It’s certainly more straightforward. How do we begin?
We begin with those big questions. Explore the questions deeply before trying to formulate grand answers. Children already know the questions—our first job is to listen and ask along with them. Sometimes simply asking the questions will elicit a deeper understanding of God.
Rabbis David Wolpe and Harold Kushner have each written excellent books on talking to our children about God, in ways that perhaps our own religious-school education never covered. Kushner, for instance, resists the familiar teaching that “God is everywhere,” noting that it “has given rise to more ludicrous misunderstandings in the minds of children than perhaps any other theological proposition ever uttered. Children have been quoted as saying, in fear or in glee, that God was in the bathtub, in the dark closet, in their sandwich….” Kushner invites us to rephrase the question, asking not “Where is God?” but “when is God?” “To ask ‘when is God?’ suggests that God is not an object, but a quality of relationship, a way of feeling and acting, that can be found anywhere, but only if certain things (study, gratitude, self-control, helpfulness, prayer, etc.) are in evidence at that particular moment” (53-54). How we could all benefit from such theological reflection, and from sharing such ideas in our homes!
God belongs in our lives, in our religious schools, in our homes. From Joseph we learn that God can thrive even in polytheistic, idolatrous Egypt, if only given an ardent dreamer and an outspoken advocate.
May God thrive here as well: in dream, in word, and in deed.
A few small corrections:
ReplyDelete"Joseph, having endured two years of imprisonment in the royal dungeon…"
1) The two years Joseph spent in prison were AN EXTENSION of his prison term, as punishment for putting his trust in man rather than putting his trust in Hashem. He had been there for a period greater than two years, therefore. He was 12 years in Egypt, from since he was sold to Potifar. Potifar's wife lied about an attempted rape by Joseph, which landed him in jail - before those two years came into play.
2) That the Constitution calls for "the separation of Church and State" - is incorrect; a myth. It only makes sure no religious imposition be tolerated, or no one main religion reign. Thanksgiving Day was a day of giving thanks to G-d! Every dollar bill has, "In G-d we trust" on display. The pioneers of America were religious people. They would have abhorred to separate Church from State. Read George Washington's letter of the first Thanksgiving Day.
3) You presume "our reluctance to welcome God-talk into our daily lives comes from a sense that God is to be found only in the spectacular. It’s a notion enforced by Bible-literalists, faith healers, and even, on occasion, by our own prayer book."
Actually this is an incorrect supposition, as this Bible-literalist will tell you. In fact, our perspetive is, of course, that EVERYTHING has the divine aspect. When we drink a glass of water, we first make the blessing, "… that everything came to creation by way of Your say-so." There's nothing "spectacular" about water, or drinking it - although via that blessing we acknowledge that everything in Nature is by divine design. In fact, splitting the Red Sea, was less spectacular than plain, ongoing Nature because to "break" Nature's rules is showing the obvious, whereas it's a greater "trick" to keep divine providence secreted behind the veil of Nature. But every second of existence is a miracle!
The first (or second) kabbalist who changed the kabballa rules - to allow this form of study to be popularized, the Ba'al Shem Tov, purposely asked simple Jews, "How are you?" - just so they could answer - "Thank G-d, well!" He wanted them too to enjoy the divine experience. It was not just meant for the snobbish Talmudic scholars, who could practically make divinity tangible with their intense talmudic study, but who kept their distance from the non-learning "simpletons".
The point being, again, that G-d is ALWAYS part and parcel of a religious or observant Jew's perspective. It does not require "special" events to attract our focus. Practically every behavior of the observant Jew, e.g. waking up, going to bed, leaving the bathroom, drinking water, before eating anything, after eating, lighting candles, praying 3 times a day, etc., always invokes G-d, and we're always offering His praise or beseeching His blessings.
And, from your essay here, you too feel this to be the right perspective to have.
Wishing you all a most splendid Hannukah!
Silence is like admission, tell us our sages.
ReplyDeleteSo I take it you agree, Rabbi Blake. Kol tuv!