Friday, November 20, 2015

Random Musing Before Shabbat–Vayetze 5776–Now and Then (Redux 5763)

אָכֵן יֵשׁ יְהֹוָה בַּמָּקוֹם הַזֶּה וְאָֽנֹכִי לֹא יָדָֽעְתִּי

Very often, I've heard "achein yeish Ad"nai bamakom hazeh, v'anochi lo yadati" rendered as "G"d was in this place, and I, I did not know it."

That's not what most translations read. I think there's an important lesson to be learned here about why it is often rendered in that form. Most translations render it "surely G"d is in this place and I, I did not know it." The subtle difference in the tenses makes a difference, and perhaps betrays an attitude on our parts. More about that in a moment.

Let's examine what the text says, according to linguistic scholars:

Achein: surely, assertion

Yeish: existence, or the substantive verb form (i.e. is, was, will be)

Ad"nai: no explanation needed, nor is one possible

Bamakom: in (a definite) place

Hazeh: This (modifies bamakom)

V'anochi: and I, or but I

Lo: negative modifier, modifies yadati

Yadati: to know, 1st person singular (masculine) perfect (completed) tense.

Of course, biblical Hebrew makes it difficult to ascertain an exact meaning. Yeish, which can represent the substantive verb "is" can be appropriately rendered in either perfect (complete) or imperfect (incomplete) verb form. Therefore, it can be "is, are, was, were, will be."

So we have a sentence with mixed tense. Yadati is perfect (complete) tense, what we often think of as "past" tense (although it's dangerous to think in concepts of verbs as past, present & future when working in Biblical Hebrew.) Yaakov is remarking to himself that he did not know, a completed act (as now he knows.)

But what did Yaakov mean (what does Yaakov mean?) when he said (says) "yeish" ? Are we to assume that, because the only verb in the sentence is in the perfect (completed) form that "yeish" should be rendered "was" ? Clearly most translators and scholarly committees don't believe so, and render "yeish" as "is." Their consensus is clearly that Yaakov is sensing Gd's presence in that place at that exact time, but that Gd's presence was also there even before Yaakov recognized and sensed it. So even the rendering of "yeish" as "is" seems somewhat inadequate, doesn't it, as it seems to imply both current and previous circumstances.

(There's a whole other tangent we can go off on here-in rendering "yeish" as "existence." "Surely Gd exists in this place...." opens itself up to a whole realm of interpretations. I leave that for you and me to think about.)

So why is it, that many places I go, I hear young students, adults, even educated teachers render the phrase as "G”d WAS in this place..." ? I think it betrays something about ourselves, our society, and our faith. Everywhere we hear people proclaim the supposed absence of obvious signs of G”d's presence among us due to lack of clear evidence. It's no small wonder, given this predilection in our time to wonder if G”d has abandoned us, that there is thus a natural tendency to render Yaakov's words as "G”d WAS in this place..."

In other words, we have failed to learn the very lesson that the Torah hits us smack on the head with here-Yaakov's realization that G”d is everywhere, even if we don't recognize it. Now, admittedly, Yaakov had incentive-he had seen a vision, a dream, that seemed to awaken this new awareness in him. Yes, our ancestors probably placed more stock in dreams than we do (although Freud and others certainly put some stock in the meaning and value of dreams.) Yet this was no great miracle-no sea splitting, no bolt of lightning. Just a dream in which Yaakov sees angels climbing up and down a ladder, and in which G”d speaks to him and promises to fulfill the covenant made with Yaakov's grandfather and father.

What really happened here? Yaakov went to sleep with a rock for a pillow (now there's a great image if one imagines the rock as T!), had a dream, woke up, and suddenly recognized G”d's presence in that place.

If that could happen to Yaakov, then why not us? Why do we doubt.? Why do we tend to put Yaakov's experience and revelation in only a past tense perspective.

Would that each of us could say, right now, and in every moment, "Achein yeish Ad”nai bamakom hazeh..." Ken y'hi ratsoneinu. Instead of looking for big miracles and signs, perhaps all we each need is our own rock to rest our head upon and dream.

This Shabbat, may you know or come to know that Gd is in the place where you are.

Shabbat Shalom,

Adrian
©2015 (portions ©2002) by Adrian A. Durlester

Other Musings on this Parasha:

Vayeitzei 5775 - Hapax Shabbat
Vayeitzei 5774 - Terms and Conditions Revisted
Vayeitze 5773 - Mandrakes and More
Vayeitze 5772 - Stumbling on Smooth Paths
Vayeitzei 5771 - Luz is No Loser
Vayeitzei 5769 - Going Down and Loving It!
Vayeitzei 5768 - Encounters
Vayeitzei 5767-Hapax On All Your Hapaxes
Vayetze 5766-Pakhad HaShem?
Vayetze 5765-Cows and Cranberries
Vayetze 5764-Terms and Conditions
Vayetze 5762-Change in Perspective
Vayetze 5760-Taking Gd's Place

Friday, November 13, 2015

Random Musing Before Shabbat–Tol’dot 5776–Still a Bother (Revised 5764)

We live in a society where personal convenience is ever more a dominating ethic used in our making choices. We weigh our choices against a rather selfish yardstick. If the effort seems more than it is worth to us, or "overly" inconveniences us, we disdain from it.

וַֽאֲמַרְתֶּם הִנֵּה מַתְּלָאָה וְהִפַּחְתֶּם אוֹתוֹ אָמַר יְהֹוָה צְבָאוֹת וַֽהֲבֵאתֶם גָּזוּל וְאֶת־הַפִּסֵּחַ וְאֶת־הַחוֹלֶה וַֽהֲבֵאתֶם אֶת־הַמִּנְחָה הַֽאֶרְצֶה אוֹתָהּ מִיֶּדְכֶם אָמַר יְהֹוָֽה

Paralleling this weeks haftarah, we say

הִנֵּה מַתְּלָאָה

"hinei mat'la'ah" which the JPS committee translated as "Oh, what a bother!" which is probably a reasonable interpretation if not quite exact. (The word mat’la’ah is a hapax legomenon – a word that appears only once in the text. It is clearly related to the word

תְּלָאָה

which means “weariness” or “hardship”  derived from the root

לָאָה

meaning “to be weary” or “to be impatient.” But the prefix doesn’t make much sense, so scholars believe it is either scribal error or a deliberate contraction of

מַה־תְּלָאָה

which means “what a hardship” or “what a weariness” or perhaps, as some have suggested, “what a plague.” I think perhaps the best colloquial translation of if would be “a pain in the tukhus.” (A better rendition of the Yiddish is “tokhes” which is really just the Yiddish was of saying the Hebrew word “takhat” meaning “bottom” or “underneath” or in place of.” In other words, it’s a “pain in the a**.”)

We utilize this ethic in many aspects of our decision-making.In the Torah, we are commanded, with little doubt, to care for the poor and the needy. For many of us, committing our bodies to some physical fulfillment of this commandment is too inconvenient, so we write checks to fulfill our obligation. (Or, the ultimate in convenience, we go to a web site and use our credit card online, or simply send a text from our phone to make a contribution. To quote a Saturday Night Live character from many years back, "How convenient!")

Over the years, at various the congregation where I have worked, and even where I am currently working, we have had discussions about the way we approach social action and the causes we support. At the root of these explorations has usually been a desire to more directly involve congregants and religious school students in activities that bring them face-to-face with the problem they are working to solve, or the people they are working to help. The idea is to "put a face on it."  There is also the continuing discussion of the concept of a “mitzvah day.” What, we only do a mitzvah once a year? What message do we send to our children with that? Every day is “mitzvah day.”

To do so is going to take more of an effort. Some are going to have to change the value they put on personal convenience. Can any of us, even the more traditionally observant among us, truly say they never sidestepped a commandment as a matter of personal convenience? Except for those lamed vavniks among us, it's not likely.

It ought not be a " bother" for us to fulfill our part of the covenant, to honor and fulfill G”d's commandments. It is an obligation, and personal inconvenience should not stand in our way.

I'm digressing, somewhat, from the context of our haftarah from Malachi, to stress this particular aspect of human behavior, so allow me to return. In the haftarah, G”d, through Malachi, is telling the people that they defile G”d's name and G”d's altar when they offer us for sacrifice less than their best. It's easy to extrapolate from this the idea that anything we offer to G”d should be our best--that we should not say "hinei mat'la'ah"--and attempt to fulfill the mitzvah with less than our best.

Even more interesting, the text seems to be suggesting that the people are saying “what the heck, the altars has already been defiled, so why not offer our lame, blind animals, and other unacceptable items?” So, is this an implicit admission of guilt both for the initial defilement and continuing defilement? Or is it buck-passing, suggesting that others already screwed things up, so why should it matter to us?

Look, it’s hard to give up your best as a sacrifice to G”d. As a sacrifice to anything. Sacrifices are hard. That’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it? If it’s convenient, is it a sacrifice?

Yet, it is not our place to judge, but G”d's place. It may be that writing a check to charity, or participating in a  once-a-year mitzvah day is the best someone can do, given the realities of their lives. It is all a balancing act. In our effort to balance, we must be cautious as to how much weight we give the concept of "too much trouble or effort."

I cannot help but believe that sweat equity is far more valued and valuable. Whatever you may think of his politics vis a vis Israel, you have to give props to former President Jimmy Carter, still knocking out those houses for Habitat for Humanity at age 91.

For some, sweat equity is often all they can give. We Jews are not all people of great means. Yet even the poorest of us is commanded to give charity. What do we need to keep us reminded of our obligation, to remind us that saying “what a bother” is just not acceptable?

One way to do this is to keep in mind the end of Malachi chapter 1, verse 13--ha-er'tzeh otah miyadchem amar Adnai.

הַֽאֶרְצֶה אוֹתָהּ מִיֶּדְכֶם אָמַר יְהֹוָֽה

Will I accept it from your hands?--said the L”rd.”

Will our acts, when judged by G”d, meet the standard? They are surely more likely to if we find ways to follow the mitzvot with less regard to any personal inconveniences to us. For example, is Shabbat really and truly the only day you could go to the mall and get that shopping done? Might not your actual presence at services be better for the congregation than just your membership dues substituting in your place? Can you carry socks in your car for the homeless? Can you encourage your children to give a gift to the needy each night of Hanukkah instead of their each receiving gifts? Can you volunteer your time at the soup kitchen or the shelter or the food pantry?

Everybody is so busy these days. We all claim we just don’t have the time to do everything. Well, of course. No one has time to do everything. It’s how you pick and choose what to do with your time this is a meaningful yardstick. Sure, go to the gym – because keeping yourself healthy is a mitzvah. Relax, take vacations. Shuttle your kids around. But find the time to sacrifice to do your part for the community, for the poor and the needy. It’s a bother to shuttle your kids to all their activities. Even more of a bother, then, to sacrifice an activity or two in place of shuttling them to help do a mitzvah? How do you decide when something is "a bother" or "too much trouble" ? Think about it.

I know, it’s awfully preachy of me. But once in a while, I give myself license to be that way. Be glad I don’t do it more often!

May all our gifts be acceptable, and may we learn to utter "hinei mat'la'ah" less and less often. Instead, may we learn to say "hinei lo mat'la'ah" which perhaps we can render in more modern vernacular "it's no bother," or better yet "no problem."

Shabbat Shalom.

Adrian
©2015 (portions ©2003) by Adrian A. Durlester

Other Musings On This Parasha:

Toldot 5775 - Esau's Plan
Tol'dot/Makhar Hodesh 5774 - Drops That Sparkle
Tol'dot 5773 - More Teleology
Tol'dot 5771 - Keeping the Bathwater
Toldot 5769 - There's Gotta Be Something Better Than This
Toldot 5768 - Alternate Histories, Alternate Shmistories
Toldot 5767-They Also Serve...
Toldot 5765-Purposeless Fire
Toledot 5764-What a Bother!
Toledot 5763-Not Sticking in The Knife
Toledot 5762-Winners and Losers
Toledot 5761-Is This All There Is?
Toledot 5758-Like Father, Like Son

Friday, November 6, 2015

Random Musing Before Shabbat–Chayyei Sarah 5776–Still Not Warm (Revised and Updated from 5767’s Never Warm)

The haftarah for parashat Chayyei Sarah begins

וְהַמֶּלֶךְ דָּוִד זָקֵן בָּא בַּיָּמִים וַיְכַסֻּהוּ בַּבְּגָדִים וְלֹא יִחַם לֽוֹ

"King David was now old, advanced in years; and though they covered him with bedclothes, he never felt warm." (I Kings 1:1, JPS)

It sounds simple and reasonable enough. As people age, they sometimes do loose the ability to regulate body heat, and are more sensitive to the lack of external heat. Yes, we understand the mechanisms that allow our mammalian bodies to regulate heat. Even younger people can sometimes experience that moment when clothes or blankets are just not enough to fend off the chill. (Having lived for a decade in North Dakota, a place where it can get and stay really cold, you’d think I’d be more immune to feeling the chill in more temperate climates. Alas, it seems to be relative, and certainly more so as I age.)

But what about that other kind of heat, that spiritual fire, that aish hakodesh that burns within us. And surely such passion burns within great people like David HaMelekh! I think such passion is not reserved for the great – it can burn in the most humble and non-self-aggrandizing people. I think it burns in more people than we realize. I know that this inner flame, this passion, drives me to do the work that I do. It can be the force that pushes me forward on one of those “I just don’t want to get up and go to work” days. Sometimes, I don’t know how I would fare without that inner passion.

It seems, however, that David had little left of passion - both spiritual and physical. For when Avishag the Shunamite was brought to "warm his bed" he was "not intimate with her."

David had a troubled life, no doubt. David was not a perfect ruler, nor a perfect servant of G"d. Now that he was old and infirm, those around him plotted and schemed to secure their own futures. David was perhaps so "out of it" he didn't even realize all that was happening. However, he has a lucid enough moment to act to insure that his promise to Bathsheva, that her son Solomon would rule after David, would be kept. It took a little goading from Nathan the prophet, but David gathered enough energy and passion to spoil Adonijah's hopes and declare Solomon his successor.

I am reminded of the scene near the end of "Man of LaMancha" when, spurred on by the words of Aldonza and his faithful squire Sancho Panza, the dying Don Quixote shows a sudden burst of strength and passion, and he is once again ready to challenge the wicked--only to die in these throws of passion. Our scene is set--we have Bathsheva to play Aldonza and Nathan to play Sancho (though Nathan is perhaps more like Dr. Carrasco, mirroring Alonso Quixanos erratic behavior right back at him.)

But I digress. David's failure to be warm can perhaps be explained by more than just old age. His internal fire had grown dim - through his own actions, and how he responded to the world around him. In addition, they offered the King an external source for warmth, but that didn’t seem to be what he needed.

What about us? I know that I certainly experience periods of spiritual cold, when it seems no amount of prayer, supplication, fasting, celebrating, etc. seems to be able to keep me warm. It's easy to blame this on external factors. "The rabbi led a lousy service." "The Hazzan sounded awful." Or we blame distractions. "I just can't stand hearing the organ" or "It just doesn't work for me when instruments are played on Shabbat" or "All this new-fangled music just doesn't do it for me" or "all this old fuddy-duddy music doesn't do it for me."

Now, to some extent, I'll accept that it can be hard to get your internal flame stimulated all the time. And some things really might not work for some people. However, ultimately, only two things can regulate our internal flame. We can, and G"d can. (And even G"d, but giving us free will, has limited G"d's ability to do that for us.) When something's not working for us, maybe we need to try harder to kindle our own internal flame, or find something that will help us do so. Or find something in the thing that's "not working" that maybe we couldn't see, or didn't try hard enough to see.

Flames, by their nature, consume. Passion also consumes. How can we sustain our passion indefinitely, and, even when it wanes, how can we be sure there’s a working pilot light to restart it when we have found more fuel to consume?

We must work hard to prevent that inner flame, that pilot light, from guttering and going out. I think I can say, with some surety, that my Judaism is one thing that seems to guard against that more than anything else except perhaps music. (I guess that’s something of an ouroboros, is it not? Judaism and music are the passions that drive and sustain me. They stoke the flame of my passion. They are, also, my passions. Passions burn brightly and strongly, consuming the very fuel that drives them. They do seem to feed upon themselves. A potentially disconcerting thought. What keeps the circle going? I know the ouroboros (can) represent an eternal cycle of creation – but is it not, effectively, a perpetual motion machine, and is that not something impossible in our universe that way it works?

So here’s a question in the “can G”d create a rock that even G”d cannot lift” category: Can G”d create a universe with physical structure and laws that render perpetual motion impossible and then create a perpetual motion machine in that universe?

Better, perhaps, paralleling our own experience as a species with this planet, we ought to consider finding renewable resources to fuel our passions. Some view Torah as a limitless source – I’m not sure I agree. I believe Torah is a renewable resource, an it requires us to interact with it regularly in order for it to be renewed. Yes, it would surely be simpler to see Torah as a never-ending fuel for passions, and to understand G”d in that same way. However, I am of Israel, an I struggle with G”d and Torah. Out of this very struggle is born the ability of Torah to be a renewable resource. Friction, even of the internal type, can produce heat and ultimately yield a flame. Judaism is a religion, a worldview of balancing forces. It’s when those balancing forces rub against one another that the heat, the flame of Torah is generated. If we just let Torah sit there, and revere it, it may lose its ability to be renewed. “G”d does the renewing” cry many voices. Perhaps so, but I believe G”d can only do this in partnership with us.

As mammals, warmth matters to us. It is, amazingly, something that we can self-generate (though not limitlessly.) This ability is a gift from G”d (and evolution.) Given that, if we're never warm, perhaps we have only ourselves to blame? Time to turn up the gas. Time to insure a renewable source of energy, and not a static one.

An ailing King David says to Bathsheva:

וַיִּשָּׁבַע הַמֶּלֶךְ וַיֹּאמַר חַי־יְהֹוָה אֲשֶׁר־פָּדָה אֶת־נַפְשִׁי מִכָּל־צָרָֽה: ל כִּי כַּֽאֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי לָךְ בַּֽיהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לֵאמֹר כִּֽי־שְׁלֹמֹה בְנֵךְ יִמְלֹךְ אַֽחֲרַי וְהוּא יֵשֵׁב עַל־כִּסְאִי תַּחְתָּי כִּי כֵּן אֶעֱשֶׂה הַיּוֹם הַזֶּֽה

"And the King took an oath, saying ‘As the L"rd lives, who has rescued me from every trouble: The oath I swore to you by the L"rd, the G"d of Israel, that you son Solomon should succeed me as King and that he should sit upon my throne in my stead, I will fulfill this very day!’ " (1 Kings 1:29-30, JPS)

As a dying Alonso Quixanos says to those around him: "Not well? What is illness to the body of a knight-errant? What matter wounds? For each time he falls, he shall rise again, and woe to the wicked." (Man of LaMancha-Dale Wasserman, Mitch Leigh, Joe Darion.)

Not warm? Never seem to be able to get warm? Turn your own spiritual flame up high. Find a renewable source to fuel your passions.  Dream your impossible dream.

Shabbat Shalom,

Adrian

©2015 (portions ©2006) by Adrian A. Durlester

Khayyei Sarah 5775 - Revisiting L'kha Dodi Likrat Kala
Hayyei Sarah 5774 - The Books of Hagar and Abishag
Hayyei Sarah 5773 - Still Tilting at Windmills
Hayyei Sarah 5772 - Zikhnah
Hayyei Sarah 5771 - The Book That Isn't - Yet
Hayyei Sarah 5770 - Call Me Ishamel II
Hayyei Sarah 5769 - Looking for Clues
Hayyei Sarah 5768 - A High Price
Hayei Sarah  5767-Never Warm?
Chaye Sarah 5766-Semper Vigilans
Chaye Sarah 5763-Life Goes On
Chaye Sarah 5762-Priorities, Redundancies And Puzzles
Chayeh Sarah 5761-L'cha Dodi Likrat Kala
Hayyei Sarah 5760 - Call Me Ishmael
Chaye Sarah 5757-The Shabbat That Almost Wasn't