Breaching Spiritual Language Barriers - Devarim

L-R Jarrod McKenna and Aboriginal Aunty Ellen Gaykamangu 

“It’s shame, miss”, said the 10 year old cheeky Aborginal boy to the deputy principal of his school an hour from Darwin. When he first introduced himself to me and my Together For Humanity interfaith team he gave us a false name, then added; “just gamin'”, which in local slang meant that he was playing with me. For me, his name became, “just gamin'”.

Mohamed Dukuly, Jarrod McKenna and I led a game that illustrated inter-dependence. This Aboriginal boy was very generous in the game, giving away most of what he had. The deputy principal, a non-Aboriginal recent arrival from a far away big city, praised him. The minute she did that, he put his hand over his face. She asked the boy why? He told her it was “shame!” She responded that he had nothing to be ashamed of. She was right, about the English word 'shame'.

The next day our team of a Muslim, Christian and a Jew were joined by an Aboriginal elder, Aunty Ellen Gaykamangu. The elder explained to the deputy principal and the students that, for her people, the word “shame” was actually about respect and being humble. The boy did not want to be put above his peers; for him it was important to behave in a way that everyone is shown the same amount of respect. The road to respect for the boy was through an Indigenous spiritual tradition that no doubt has a word for it in their own language. However, Australia is a land dominated by the English language. So, the original idea is now carried by an English word which does not capture its original flavour and spirit.

As a Jewish boy growing up in New York, I spoke two languages, English and Yiddish. While some elements of Jewish spirituality were expressed through Yiddish words we used, a lot of the sacred texts were in Hebrew, which I did not fully understand at the time. There was also a disconnect between our daily conversation which we held in English and religious guidance which was often given in Yiddish. This sometimes diminished its relevance. Even the English some of our teachers spoke had such heavy Yiddish and Eastern European accents, they might as well have been speaking a different language. Things only really clicked for me when I had an American born teacher who I felt I could relate to.

Spiritual language barriers are important because every language carries its own energy. If our spiritual traditions were formed in a different language, there can be an element of alienation between us and the different vibes that pull us in different directions.

I was delighted to find that this tension is alluded to in my tradition, in this week’s Torah reading. At the end of Moses’ life, he explained the Torah (1). This is interpreted to mean that he explained the Torah in seventy languages (2). It has been suggested that this was for the benefit of the non-Hebrew speaking Israelites in the desert (3). However, another approach is that in Moses’ multi-lingual expounding of the Torah he was laying the groundwork for future exiles among different language groups and their “life force”, or spirit. In some mystical way, Moses was breaching the spiritual language barrier to enable Jewish exiles to live their spirituality wherever they find themselves (4). With the support of the Together For Humanity team, Aunty Ellen did the same thing for young “just gamin”.     

1)    Deuteronomy 1:5.

2)    Midrash Tanchuma Devarim, 2.

3)    Levush Haorah on Deuteronomy 1:5.

4)    Kedushas Levi, Parshas Devarim, Ohr Hachayim edition, p. 325.

Anger vs Flow Chukat

Photo by Luke Addison, published under creative commons
license https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/
 https://www.flickr.com/photos/1uk3/1677426833 

There is a lot of rage and pain in the world right now. Rage about racism. Anger about loss of income and COVID19. Indignation about statues and what they represent.

I have felt very angry recently. Anger can be a healthy response to violations of principles of right and wrong (1).

I learned from the following experience that showing anger is sometimes necessary. As a young Rabbi I supervised several youth workers. One was a brash New Yorker (NY) who I could not trust to be appropriate in a summer camp. Another was a fancy dresser-apparent narcissist (FDAN) who never took any notice of my polite guidance, or criticism of his careless performance. One day I mentioned to FDAN that NY was not welcome in camp because I was not happy with him. FDAN turned to me with the question: “Are you happy with me?” I was so shocked by the question that over a decade later, I remember exactly where we were during that conversation. It had never occurred to me that he cared! Yet, I had deprived him of the essential information that his failure to follow my instructions made me angry.  

On the other hand, more often than not, I think my anger (on the rare occasions that I dare to express it), is destructive and often does little to alleviate the suffering or evil that provoked it in the first place.

This post is not about the situations in which anger is necessary and constructive but those in which a calm and positive approach is helpful.

Research into anti-racism approaches found that accusing people that they are racist does not work. Instead, the literature advises that one must seek to engage people in an open exploration of the issues (2).

This mode of influence is also highlighted in a discussion of the Torah reading this week (3).  Moses was punished during the episode in which the Israelites in the desert were provided with water when he hit a rock.  Prior to hitting the rock, Moses became enraged with the people because of their complaints. He denigrates them by calling them, “You rebels”.  Some opinions view his anger as the problem (4), while others insist that he should have spoken to the rock, instead of hitting it (5).

However, a champion of love, the Chasidic master, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, insists that the two explanations are one (6). There are two modes of influence. One is kind and seeks to focus on the positive characteristics of the person one seeks to influence and the joy and benefit of improving behaviour. The other is harsh and denigrating. If Moses had chosen the former approach, water would have flowed from the rock easily. Because he opted for the latter, it was impossible for him to get water out without a fight. He needed to hit the rock!

Sometimes, one can be an activist or seek to address wrongs in a calm and pleasant way. There is a tendency for activism to be forceful rather than go with the flow. This is not an argument for the one right answer, but to consider the various options available to us and to choose the appropriate tool most likely to achieve a result in the situation.  

Notes

1)    https://www.apa.org/topics/anger/

2)   Pedersen, A., Walker, I., & Wise, M. (2005). Talk Does Not Cook Rice: Beyond anti-racism rhetoric to strategies for social action. Australian Psychologist, 40, 20-30.

3)    Numbers 20:1-13

4)    Maimonides

5)    Rashi

6)    Kedushas Levi, Chukas, p. 303