PARASHAT SHOFTIM
09.02.11 - Rabbi Dan Sklar
I know it’s been a rather dull week. Not much going on in these final dog days of summer. Not much except for an earthquake and a once in a hundred years event known as Hurricane Irene. Whether you thought all the coverage was much ado about nothing, or if you have iReporting relatives upstate or in Vermont, you know from the coverage of the aftermath that we dodged a bullet. My wife and I didn’t have power in Connecticut until Tuesday but the house was intact, everyone was safe and we counted our blessings. I must say that between our isolation in the woods, our well, and a delivery of a cord of firewood, I felt a bit of the pioneering spirit this week. I’m not sure that spirit would hold out very long against another nor’easter or the first frost of winter, but stacking the firewood transported me back a century or two and the whole experience has given me a greater sense of awe concerning the powerful forces of nature. It’s humbling, but even in our whizbang world of electronic gadgetry, we’re still utterly lost when the power goes out. Even with advanced weather prediction systems and satellite imagery, we still couldn’t help but whisper a prayer of protection for our loved ones and our homes. Can you imagine what the destructive force of nature must have seemed like in biblical times?
We don’t have to look very far to see the inextricable link between God and nature in the worldview of our ancestors. Our new prayerbook, Mishkan Tefilah, has even gone so far as to readmit the phrases Morid haTal and Mashiv HaRuach uMorid haGashem in the Amidah prayer- each in their season. The phrases defer to God’s power to make the winds blow and the rains fall. But the editors of the prayerbook were still disinclined to include the second paragraph of the shema that our conservative and orthodox co-religionists recite quietly at every service. The excised paragraph from Deuteronomy explains the “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” approach to God and the weather. If we’re faithful and dutiful Jews, God will provide rain and a bountiful harvest. If we’re not: drought and famine. Not so subtle subtext here- our own morality and good or bad deeds directly impact the weather. The Reform movement decided long ago that this cosmology was too problematic to include in our daily prayers and simply removed the offending passage.
But the desire to hold God accountable for the weather runs deep. Polytheistic cultures living alongside Jews had a certain advantage over monotheism. They could assign all manner of natural phenomena their own gods. Zeus himself was known for throwing lighting bolts from the sky. Judaism sought to conflate the properties of many gods onto the one God of the heavens and the earth. But the Greco-Roman influence was strong and some of the oldest synagogue floors we have yet uncovered bear witness to some old habits that were hard to break. The mosaic floors at the 4th century Hamat Tiberias synagogue and the 6th century Beit Alpha synagogue contain Jewish elements that we all know well. A scene depicting the Binding of Isaac, a seven-branched menorah and a Holy Ark. But the lions’ share of both floors is occupied by none other than a zodiac, with Hebrew names for the twelve signs and the sun god Helios smack dab in the middle of the floor. Old habits are hard to break.
The Torah portion this week Shoftim cautions any who might be tempted to worship other gods, specifically the sun or the moon or any other astrological deities. The penalty for such a transgression is, you guessed it, death by stoning but as with many of the exhortations and commandments of the Torah- if the good book says “thou shalt not...” we can bet dollars to doughnuts that many of the people were doing just that. Polytheism was popular because it was convenient. The sun god holds sway during the day, the moon god by night. If you’re traveling by sea, you appeal to the good graces of Poseidon or Neptune. It may seem to us overly simplistic, but it was orderly and it certainly made sense. Monotheism’s greatest challenge was to explain a beneficent God responsible for all- good, bad and indifferent. The prophet Isaiah didn’t mince words, yotzeir or- I form the light and create darkness; I make peace and create evil- ani Adonai oseh chol eileh- I the Lord do all these things. This statement is the dark underbelly of the shema prayer. If God is indeed one, then God is responsible for all.
But again, the liturgist stepped in to soften this severe decree. In the morning prayer Yotzeir Or, which begins with the famous line from Isaiah, the word evil is replaced so we don’t have to face this grim prospect each morning we recite the prayer. The statement, I make peace and create evil became I make peace and create everything. The change is welcomed by every denomination and is part of the traditional liturgy but those in the know, know the original verse and the word replacement is a subtle wink that is to say, of course you know what “everything” entails. The message of our portion and of our liturgy is clear: as tempting as it may seem, don’t look to other gods- our God is one. The portion goes on to prohibit consulting with soothsayers and fortune tellers. Our Torah has no patience for other gods and it isn’t in the business of telling the future, despite what the Bible Code enthusiasts would have you believe.
We’re not so different from our biblical ancestors. Psychics and Tarot card readers abound and people today as in the past are still hungry for news of the future. But today, as in the past, the future is not ours to know. Even in an age of sophisticated weather prediction systems, we still don’t know precisely the path a storm might take until it is just about upon us. Make no mistake, the evacuations this past weekend were necessary and could well have save lives, even if our region didn’t bear the brunt of the storm. Technology is a tool, but it is not a crystal ball. Medical screenings can tell us part but not all of the story. When we say the words, Who shall live and who shall die in the Un’taneh Tokef prayer in just a few weeks time, we feel a kinship with our ancestors when we ask the really big questions and come up wanting. The Torah knows full well that it is simply unhealthy to fixate on what will be. Better to make good use of the time we have and to work for a better future. In the words of another great sage, Doris Day, “Que sera sera, whatever will be will be, the future’s not ours to see, que sera sera.”
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