Emotional blindness. The Case of Isaac – Toldot

Alienated. Feeling alone and disconnected from the people who used to provide connection and a sense of belonging. Perhaps there is a vicious cycle - feelings of alienation in an individual alienate the people they might otherwise connect with. Don’t we like to hang out with happy people? Surely, the alienated one needs to get over it! Look on the bright side! Which also means don’t dare look at what feels wrong and misaligned. Turn a blind eye, mate. That’s the winning strategy. Perhaps it is.

I wonder about the merits of focusing on the positive to such a degree that we stop seeing disturbing facts or fears. I want to explore this by looking at the metaphoric hints in our teachings about Isaac’s blindness.

Isaac is one of Judaism’s three patriarchs. He was literally blind[i], but Isaac also seems to have been blind to the true evil[ii] nature of his oldest son, Esau[iii], who he wanted to bless at the end of his life[iv] rather than his good son, Jacob.

The meaning of Isaac’s blindness is hinted at in various teachings of the Midrash. One approach is that God brought blindness down on Isaac as a way of shielding him from the shame of Esau’s behavior. Easu abducted married women and raped them. If Isaac would walk in the marketplace, people would ridicule him as the father of that scoundrel. By making Isaac blind, God caused Isaac to stay at home and thus avoid the experience of shame[v]. This seems to endorse the proposition that one way to deal with shame is to avoid exposure to it and escape from it.

I read a charming articulation of this approach from the Breslov school of Chasidism. “You may remember … from the early childhood of some little person in your vicinity, that closing one’s eyes was a strategy often employed to ward off the threat of seeming doom. It may not have always worked, but then again you might not have known how to do it properly.” [vi]The Breslov approach emphasises seclusion and talking to God like one would to a friend.

The Rebbe Nachman stated 'And if things get very bad, make yourself into nothingness.’

I asked him, 'How does one make himself into nothingness?’

He replied, 'Close the mouth and eyes – nothingness!’

They advise, “One has to hide inside the house to keep himself from feasting his eyes on this world. The walls of the house serve as blinders.”

An alternative view is that Isaac’s blindness was a consequence of his experience being offered as a human sacrifice by his own father[vii]. At the time the angels wept, and their tears entered Isaac’s eyes and eventually blinded him[viii]. The angels could not bear the injustice of a father’s cruelty to his son. Isaac tuned into the outrage of the angels to such an extent that his mind was closed to any form of parental rejection of a child. He could not see that Esau was an undeserving son, unworthy of the blessings he wished to give him[ix]. Following this interpretation, turning a blind eye is unwise.

Still another approach links Isaac’s blindness to the experience of bitterness of spirit[x] caused to him and Rebecca by the idol worship of Esau’s wives. This made Isaac angry, which led him to become blind[xi]. Anger, sometimes caused by being confronted with something we really wish we could pretend was not there[xii], can cause us to not ‘see things clearly’ and significantly distort our perception of reality, rendering us emotionally ‘blind.’

I am not sure exactly what guidance to draw from all this. However, a few things are clear to me. A lot of the time, it is useful to look away and tell ourselves that the time is not right for exploring depressing matters[xiii], on condition that we do look at them from time to time. If we never deal with painful issues, denial is likely to end in tears when reality crashes through and needs to be dealt with. Despite turning a blind eye, we still have some awareness of the problems we are choosing not to see so the emotions of anger, resentment and shame bubble away in the shadows, and in the subconscious and can’t be addressed. The suppressed rage and fear seep out in unspoken ways, through tone and body language and cause distress to people around us and to ourselves. Perhaps, the answer lies in mixing blindness with clear-eyed exploration of the painful things we wish to avoid.

---

[i] Genesis 27:1

[ii] Midrashic sources, Midrash Rabba and others

[iii] Lamm, N. 2012, Derashot L’dorot, a commentary for the ages: Genesis, OU press, p. 114

[iv] Genesis 27:4

[v] Bereshit Rabba 65

[vi] https://www.breslov.org/dvar/bereishis/toldot_5761.html

[vii] Genesis 22:1-12

[viii] Bereshit Rabba 65:5

[ix] R. Ezra Bick, https://www.torahmusings.com/2013/10/the-blindness-of-yitzchak/

[x] Genesis 26:35

[xi] Midrash Tanchuma toldot 8

[xii] Toldot Yaakov Yosef, I don’t remember the exact reference

[xiii] R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi, Tanya, chapter 26

Strength in the face of the deluge of the deep dark chaos - Noah

It is 4 am and I can't sleep. Thoughts and worries rob me of much needed sleep.

Some of the flood of thoughts are personal and internal, combining with the troubles of others. 

Yesterday I learned about the death of a 60 year old spouse of someone in Western Sydney that I have known through work for many years. He died of COVID.

According to a tweet by BBC reporter (of Afghan heritage) Yalda Hakim, the 5th of October was “Day 17 of Taliban ban on girls returning to secondary school in Afghanistan. Millions of girls across the country continue to be confined to their homes, deprived of an education” . An assistant principal in Kabul told Yalda "Today most of our teachers were crying for their students, when are they going to start studying above grade 6?”

I have been thinking about the idea that there is an alternative reality to the ordered world many of us spend time in. There is something beyond experiences of delicious, sufficient food, prioritised to do lists, walking in nature and spending time with people we love or like.“In the beginning of God’s creation of heaven and earth, [He first created]  chaos and void, and darkness upon the face of the deep (1)”.

This chaos is not an event of the past but of the present. The energies of chaos and void, negation and destruction continue to lurk in the netherworld of reality and in the deep shadows of individual human hearts and subconscious minds (2). These forces pose an ongoing threat to burst out and submerge the world and our minds in a flood of destruction or upheaval (3). One role of the human being is to hold this chaos at bay and to actively work on creating all that is good, beautiful and nourishing (4).

Humans have often failed to contain the destructive forces. Many women continue to suffer sexual harassment. This is an ancient problem: “the sons of the powerful ones saw the daughters of man that they were good, so they took women from all that they chose” (5), including by force (6). The world was corrupted and filled with robbery (7). This ethical collapse was followed by a flood arising from the deep (as well as rain from above) and destroying everything (8).

Yet, as terrifying as the deep chaos is, we must resist the temptation to gather bricks and make towers (9) of false security. Police states preserve “order” with evil and harsh measures. Some of their rulers also create extra “security” for themselves in massive off-shore accumulations of wealth or other kinds of ‘towers’ to feed illusions of greatness and immortality (10).

Punitive self-talk mimics the tactics of the KGB by shaming and berating us every time a chaotic thought of self-doubt surfaces, arising from our dark shadowed subconscious. To overcompensate for the gnawing self-doubt and even loathing, some will display arrogant or narcissistic “bigness”, or hyper busyness.

But the chaos and “the deep” is not a fault but a design feature of creation and what makes us human. When we overcome or redirect misdirected desires or lusts this brings delight to our creator (11).

The floodwaters from the deep that brought destruction in the time Noah, represent the constant worries that threaten to overwhelm us. But as in the story of the flood, for those who responded appropriately with an “ark”, - wise or prayerful words for example- the waters raise the ark to a higher level representing the growth we can ultimately achieve prompted by the worries we might not have otherwise attained (12). Let us accept the chaos and shadows in ourselves and the inherent nature and realities of the world as the arena we are invited to play in and contribute to. Let’s add as much light, love, and learning as we can. 

 

Notes

 

 

1)     Genesis 1:1-2, my translation paraphrases the interpretation of Rashi.

2)     Soloveitchik, J.B. (1983) Halakhic Man, the Jewish Publications Society, p. 102

3)     Talmud Succa 53a-b

4)     Soloveitchik, J.B., p. 105

5)     Genesis 6:2

6)     R. Bachaya

7)     Genesis 6:11

8)     Genesis 7:11

9)     Genesis 11:3-4

10)  Leibowitz, Nehama (undated), New Studies in Bereshit- Genesis, Production Zion Ezra, p. 103

11)  R. Levi Yitchak of Berditchev in the name of his father in Kedushas Levi, Noach, p. 18

12)  The Chabad - Lubavitcher Rebbes, see for example this adaptation by Loshak, A. https://www.chabad.org/parshah/article_cdo/aid/5258597/jewish/When-Times-Are-Tough-Be-Like-Noah.htm

 

Righting Wrongs - Reflection on Hannah and COVID Rosh Hashanah

 

In these difficult times, it can become difficult to hope that what is wrong in the world, and in ourselves, can be made right. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, is a time to engage with this challenge. In this blog post, I offer a glimpse into how I grappled with this on this day.   

The Biblical Hannah was always known to me as the silent woman. Hannah stands in the Jewish imagination as the taunted, childless, embittered woman who prayed with “her lips moving, but her voice not heard (1)” as she pleaded to give birth to a child. She is credited with the invention of Jewish silent prayer (2). But I heard her loud and clear this year, as if for the first time, due to my lockdown Rosh Hashanah experience. 

Unlike the past 45 years when I spent Rosh Hashanah in the Synagogue, this year I experienced it around my kitchen table with my family. Part of this experience was reading out loud in Hebrew the passage about Hannah in the Prophets (Haftorah) and translating it into English for my family. It was then that the power of her words hit me.

After Hannah’s prayer had been answered, she came to the temple and gave voice to her experience:

“It was this boy I prayed for; the Lord granted me what I asked of Him... My horn [pride] is high through the LORD, My mouth is wide over my enemies...

...Do not talk, [in a] high, high [manner], let no arrogance cross your lips! The bows of the mighty are broken, [while] the faltering are girded with strength.

Men who were once sated, must hire out for bread; [but] Men who were once hungry, hunger no more. While the barren woman bears seven, the mother of many is forlorn.

...The Lord casts down, He also lifts high. He raises the poor from the dust. Lifts up the needy from the dunghill, setting them with nobles, granting them seats of honor…”. (3). 

Hannah’s affirmation of hope touched me. I was moved by the image of “her horn” being elevated. The “barren,” belittled woman saw herself enlarged in her new success as a mother. It reminded me that the “little people” can become “big,” and enjoy dignity and pride.

Over the last few days, I read Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe (4) that describes the humiliation of Igbo tribesmen of Nigeria by their land’s Colonisers. This disturbing story acknowledges some complexities, for example  benefits for the Igbo such as reducing the killing of twins (5). On the other hand, the harsh subjugation of the clans and their leaders echoes much of the continuing pain in the world. Hannah’s proclamation that, with God’s help, wrongs can be righted, offers a counterpoint to despair and encouragement to hope.

This encouragement is alluded to in Hannah’s widened “mouth.” There are times when people feel shut down by the disinterest of others in their views. The Rosh Hashanah liturgy includes a prayer for “an opening of the mouth” for those who continue to hope for divine assistance. We pray that as we seek to right wrongs, we do not succumb to the resistance by those who don’t share our vision or by obstacles that stand in our way; rather, we continue to speak our truth. 

Hannah articulated a vision of the fortunes of the humble and battlers changing for the better, which continues to inspire Jews in our daily and festival prayers (6). Hannah’s words touched and inspired me on this holy day, as I hope they inspire you to continue to hope and work for better outcomes for individuals, communities and perhaps one day, even nations and humanity.  

   

Notes: 

1. Samuel I, 1:13 

2. Talmud 31a

3. Samuel I, 1:27-2: 

4. Achebe, C. (1958), Things Fall Apart

5. https://www.jstor.org/stable/3773886 , https://www.theguardian.com/working-in-development/2018/jan/19/twin-baby-dies-secret-killings-nigeria-remote-communities 

6. Psalms 113:7-8, 146, 7-9

Judgement Acceptance and Celebration Rosh Hashanah

Accommodating! The word appeared in large font, an accusation, that screamed at me from my Lumina Spark personality report. The report that was generated in response to a detailed survey about my workplace behaviours featured a word cloud with the most significant of my characteristics shown in the biggest writing. There it was, in huge type - ACCOMODATING.

One of my hang-ups, and I don’t think I am unique in this, is questioning my own strength. Am I strong or weak? Does my reluctance to confront conflict prove that I am a wimp? Are my doubts and agonising about decision-making further proof of weakness? These kinds of ruminations are not useful, but if we have them, we are better off dealing with them than avoiding thinking about them.

As I reflect on such questions, it occurs to me that the Jewish New Year’s Day, Rosh Hashanah is fast approaching on 7-8 September. The words “behold, the day of judgement” echo in my mind. At my synagogue on Rosh Hashanah, we would have  a choir, and two of its members with very strong deep singing voices – one a lawyer the other a judge – would sing these words in Hebrew in a slow solemn melody: Heenaaaay Yom Hadeeen, Heee-naay, Yo-o-m, Ha-----deeeen! Behold, the day of judgement!

The backstory of the Jewish day of judgement is that the first humans, Adam and Eve, were created on this date, and on that same day they ate forbidden fruit and were judged for it (1). History is repeated every year on the same day.

As He did to Adam in the Garden of Eden, God calls out to us, “where are you?” (2) “Where are you in the world? What have you accomplished? You have been allotted a certain number of days, hours, and minutes in which to fulfil your mission in life. You have lived so many years and so many days,”- over 50 years in my case - “Where are you? What have you achieved?” (3). And the super-ego can’t help itself but to appropriate the role of the divine judge to do a bit of judging of its own. Are you good enough? Big enough? Strong enough?

For a long time, I regularly showed up to the court of the false God in my head. I pleaded my case and presented my defence. I protested too much, then noticed that these thoughts were never enough to end the judgement. Self-criticism and self-doubt continue to be part of my life. But one day I decided that I had enough. I declared to the inner critic that I no longer recognised the legitimacy of his court. This is a pointless exercise! I thought, I just need to ignore it.

It worked to some extent but the other day I decided to change tack and take ownership of who I am and accept the gifts and challenges that God has given me.

I am accommodating! That is my nature. I am not a tough New Yorker. I am not Donald Trump. Good. I acknowledge that sometimes I will be accommodating in situations in which it would be more useful to me and the people I care about, or the cause I serve if I were to be assertive. But I also celebrate that I can tune in to other peoples’ perspectives and see the world through their eyes, and do what they want when it does not compromise my principles at all.

I remind myself that strength is defined by our sages as the conquest of one’s own self (4). To act with self-control. I am not perfect at this, but I often score some victories here. I would love to do even better.

With regards to one’s failure to exercise self-control, it is also useful to practice some degree of acceptance. We can work to address problems we own and acknowledge, but not those we deny. The first human to be judged, Adam, admitted to God that he ate the forbidden fruit (5).  But as he did, he used the present tense, admitting that after he was offered the forbidden fruit, “I am eating it.” That is, I ate some, and I will continue to eat it (6). While some would regard this as brazen, another perspective is that Adam was owning up to the truth about himself. He knew his own reality that included a weakness for these forbidden fruits and was completely honest about this (7). This honesty is surely the first step to growth.

As we look back at a year that included challenges relating to COVID and lockdowns, let us be honest about what we noticed about ourselves and accept the truths we learned. Then let us forgive ourselves as surely as we believe that a Merciful God certainly forgives us (8). In fact, as Jews we approach the day of judgement as a celebration, wearing our best clothing; we eat and drink as we are confident in God’s mercy (9). We also engage in some serious self-reflection and prayer. Not a bad mix of responses to honestly engaging with the truth of our flawed and lovable selves.  

For all who are observing Rosh Hashana, I wish you a happy and sweet new year. May it be sweet prosperous, free and healthy for all of humanity.

Sources

1. Rabbi Nissim in Pesikta
2. Genesis 3:9
3. R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi,  https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/1107/jewish/Where-Are-You.htm
4. Pirkey Avot 4:1
5. Genesis 3:12
6. Genesis Rabba 19:22
7. Rabbi Mendel of Kotzk, in Oratz, E. (1990) Nothing but the Truth p. 43-44 Judaica Press.
8. Tanya, end of chapter 26
9. Jerusalem Talmud, Rosh Hashana 1:3

COVID Tensions Prejudice and Tisha B'Av

"Where is the Aussie spirit?" Aren't we all Aussies?! the man with the long orange beard asked a group of police officers. I was very moved when I watched this highly charged exchange that began over allegations about masks. It got me thinking about maintaining solidarity in general, and especially during COVID. 

I write from two perspectives: as the National Director of Together For Humanity, my work is focused on fostering interfaith and intercultural understanding. I also write as a Jewish person sharing my experiences with you, dear reader, as another way of fostering understanding.

The bearded man at the beginning of this article is Rami Ykmour, an Australian of Lebanese heritage and co-founder of popular restaurant chain Rashays. On the afternoon of 8 July 2021, police entered his Chester Hill office over allegations that some of his staff were breaching face mask orders.  

After some disagreement about how to proceed, the situation escalated. Rami made his appeal to the police, whose patience with him was quickly wearing thin. In the days since the incident, Rami has expressed regret for how things unfolded and support for the police for doing their jobs. He rightly observed that many people are very stressed and stretched at this time.

The exchange happened at a crucial moment during the intensifying current Sydney lockdown. There have been anguished assertions of unequal and harsh treatment of Western Sydney residents from non-English speaking backgrounds, compared with residents in other parts of Sydney. One Western Sydney man from an Arab background told me he was reluctant to leave his home to go to the shops for food he needed because he just was not up for “dealing with all this.” No doubt there are reasons for specific police decisions relating to facts about the virus – rather than ethnicity – that I do not fully understand, so I don’t feel equipped to comment on the actions of the police.

However, what is happening in Sydney now brings to mind long-standing experiences of prejudice experienced by many people from migrant backgrounds, and this worries me greatly.

Rami’s question about us all being Aussies reminds me of the plea of the Jewish character Shylock in the Merchant of Venice: “Doesn’t a Jew… warm up in summer and cool off in winter just like a Christian? If you prick us, don’t we bleed?”

We discussed this among the Together For Humanity team. One of our teachers, Kate Xavier, herself a South-Western Sydney resident of Croatian Catholic heritage shared the following sentiment: “the danger for us living out West is real. Not only a sense that we don’t belong or are inferior, but a sense of feeling that any minute we fall into that trap of believing the media narrative and forgetting the humanity of our neighbours and ourselves.”

As a Jewish person, I feel called to counter any form of prejudice. It is for this reason that I feel so strongly about everyone feeling that they belong. The most repeated commandment in the Hebrew Bible concerns the treatment of the “stranger”– the minority member – the less powerful, less established “stranger.” Jews are called to remember that the Jewish people were once “strangers” in Egypt.

I write these lines on the saddest day of the Jewish calendar, Tisha B’Av. This year, I joined other members of my community to recite Lamentations in the traditional mournful tune via Zoom under lockdown. On this day we mourn destruction, division and loss of dignity. One legend of this day involves a man, Bar Kamtza, who - like Rami - pleaded for dignity. Solidarity means that every Australian, regardless of background, never needs to question if they are as Aussie as anyone else. 

Linguistic Diversity Cohesion and Power

The 3 year old girl pointed at the fire truck. “Fie-er lesher, Fie-er lesher” she shouted excitedly in yiddish. 

The little girl was my mother. She had recently arrived in San Francisco from Shanghai, where she was born to yiddish speaking parents who narrowly escaped the Nazis in World War 2.  

“She should not speak in yiddish! She must speak English” her parents were told angrily!

It is wrong to prevent migrants from speaking their native languages. I believe this, despite my view that migrants must learn the language of their new country (if they can, some people find it quite difficult). It is hard for people to be united or even really get along if they can’t talk to each other. In fact, the first time the Torah mentions linguistic diversity is in the story of the Tower of Babel. We are told that people speaking one language makes their society strong, but if they speak different languages it will weaken them (1). However, being able to communicate in the language of one’s new country can be achieved without restraining migrants from speaking their native languages. 

This approach is not without risks. The easiest way to learn a language is to practice it and be immersed in it. There are parts of Australia that have high concentrations of people who speak languages other than English. In these areas, migrants can get by without properly learning the language of the land. Research has shown that being surrounded by signs in foreign languages caused significant discomfort to older Anglo-saxon residents in one of these areas (2). These risks should be addressed and mitigated rather than going to the extreme and trying to stamp out other languages from our shared spaces. 

Preserving native languages is important for two reasons:  one is self-expression and the other is power. 

Educator Ronit Baras introduced me to the idea of “language of the heart”. As I understand it, the language we speak as children enables us to express ourselves most effectively, especially when trying to articulate what is in our hearts. Languages learned later operate on a more technical level. We can express what we think effectively in a second language, but it can be hard to express how we feel. Assuming that this is true for many migrants, it would be a terrible imposition to restrict them from using their own language most of the time. 

The second argument relates to power. Because our ability to express our feelings is impeded when we are forced to use a second language, we are therefore not as powerful in negotiating everyday situations when speaking that language. I noticed that intuitively as a teenager when dealing with a particularly harsh teacher (who died from COVID last year). This teacher had a sharp tongue and could pack a powerful verbal punch in his native Yiddish, which was my first language. To change the power dynamic between us, I always addressed him in English rather than in Yiddish. It really threw him. The best he could do when I told him I thought I was  a nice guy was to tell me in a thick accent “you not, nice guy, you nice garbage”. That is a bit harsh, but nothing compared to what he could deliver in Yiddish! 

 

The relationship between power and language can explain a peculiar phrase in the story of Esther. The context is a king wishing to subdue women under the control of men. The royal edict stated that every man will be a ruler in his home, and [in the case where husband and wife speak different languages, the husband and therefore his wife] will speak in the language of his [the husband’s] nation (3). There we have it, suppression of linguistic diversity to serve male domination, with the loss of the right to speak one’s native language is clearly linked to a loss of power.  

The Torah urges us not to mistreat the stranger (4). Allowing them to speak in their native language is one way to adhere to this commandment. 

Notes

1. Genesis 11:6-9

2. Wise, A, (2004) Contact Zones: Experiences of cultural diversity and rapid neighbourhood change among Anglo-Celtic and long term elderly residents in Ashfield. Centre for Research on Social Inclusion, Macquarie University

3. Esther 1:22

4. Leviticus 19:33

 

Receiving Charity is Divine - Terumah

Nine year old Bert Facey was a slave in 1904-5. He desperately wanted to escape the house of the stranger who had him working from morning to night, but could not. He was brutally beaten. His family’s terrible poverty deprived young Bert of schooling, and the love of family through his childhood and adolescence (1). He grew up resilient and stoic and is the author of the classic and inspiring book, “A Fortunate Life”. Despite his heroic life, it is a shame, he never received charity. My argument in this blog is that the acceptance of needed charity is a beautiful thing. 

Image by Sachin Modgekar
Reproduced under 
Creative Commons License

The Jewish mystic the Baal Shem Tov taught that taking charity is a sacred act. Like other solemn activities such as a wedding or prayer, it ought to be done with the right intention. In this case, it should be accepted with the intention of it being “for the sake of heaven”. [Thus] “the one who receives should not accept charity for superfluous items ,... but instead to take what is needed to sustain oneself and one’s family as is appropriate and right [for them]” (2).

Let me pause here with a disclaimer. My intention in citing this teaching is not to endorse the implication that the poor should never have any luxuries. I interpret the second half of the statement that sets an aspirational standard of “appropriateness and right” as subjective, to be determined by the recipient rather than society. It is wrong for members of the community to police the poor to ensure they use what is given to them for necessities. (The virtues of not taking what is not needed is beyond the scope of this blog (3)).  Sometimes there are factors that others are simply unaware of (4) and so we must give people the benefit of the doubt (5). 

Putting this aside, the point I want to emphasise is the way the Baal Shem Tov turns the focus away from the experience of the giver to consider the dignity of, and the spiritual significance of the act for the recipient. 

Receiving charity is linked to what the mystics would regard as the holiest spiritual processes: the repair or “unification” of God’s name. Unification is a key underlying purpose of many of the rituals of Judaism. God’s name is split apart by human evil. Virtuous deeds reunite the four letters of God’s name. The exalted process is activated by the receipt of charity. The letter Yud י is shaped like a coin. The letters Hey ה (the 5th letter of the alphabet, linked to the number five) represent the hands - with their five fingers - of both the giver and recipient, and the letter Vav ו represents the giver’s arm (6).

One scholar tried to restrict the designation of the divine character of receiving charity to apply only to poor scholars who receive without asking for help. This restriction is dismissed (7). Regardless of how it happens, the act of receiving charity is considered a greater gift to the giver than what the giver of charity provides to the recipient” (8). 

I love these teachings. On the one hand, I admire people like Facey, who despite all his troubles named his book “AFortunate Life” as an expression of incredible positivity and gratitude. However, we need to combine an emphasis on the virtue of resilience and self-sufficiency with the virtue of asking and accepting help when we truly need it. Like many others, I have tried both paths. Being tough and independent when I needed help, and later learning the value of receiving support. I am a better man for learning to do the latter, and I pay forward the support given to me to others who benefit from my strengthened self.  

Notes

(1) Facey, A.B. A Fortunate Life. 

(2) The Baal Shem Tov- in Tshuas Chein, Teruma, cited in the Baal Shem Tov on the Torah

(3) Numerous sources in the Talmud and Jewish law, Pesachim 112b, רמב"ם (משנה תורה, הלכות מתנות עניים פרק י הלכה יח

(4) Thank you too PS on the Facebook discussion for highlighting this. 

(5) Pirkei Avot 2:5

(6) The Arizal, cited in Chido on Teruma, p. 255, 1

(7) Chido, ibid. 

(8) Midrash Rabba Ruth 5:9

 

“Jewish Soul”, Is it a software thing? Yitro

The idea of the Jews being a “chosen people” (1) can motivate us in worshiping God (2) and service to humanity. I don’t think of it as me being better, or more worthy than virtuous people I know and admire who are not Jewish. However, there is a risk that the idea of being ‘chosen’ - if it is taken to mean that there is an intrinsic difference to the Jewish soul - can make some Jews feel less connected to, or to devalue their non-Jewish neighbours (3).

How we choose to understand ethnic identity can be compared either to computer software - that is installed and added on but not essential, or to hardware, in that we regard it as intrinsic to who we are (4). If it is software, the brotherhood of mankind is more plausible than if it is hardware. Jewish scholarship on this question is mixed and complex.  

Image by Steven Depolo, used under 
Creative Commons Licence 3.0
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0

On the hardware side of the argument is the idea of a unique Jewish soul (5) which, according to a mystical perspective, is “a part of God” (6). However, this needs to be taken in the context of the belief that God is present in everything in existence. Even rocks, according to the mystics, contain a “divine spark” (7), although these “sparks” are deemed to differ between inanimate objects and different peoples (8). 

We should not overstate the concept of the “Godly soul” because, according to its chief proponent, it is quite marginal to the lived experience of the Jew. The day-to-day life of the Jew is an experience of an “animal soul” rather than a Godly one. It is this animal soul that is the true everyday identity of the Jewish person (9). The Godly soul is something “that has been placed within him” (10) but is not him or her (11). It seems more like an obscure “plug in”, than a core element.

On the other side of the argument stands Maimonides (12). Repeatedly, he emphasises that it is an individual’s knowledge and motivations that are key to one’s spiritual standing. “Every person can be righteous like Moses” (13). “Every single person from all inhabitants of the world whose spirit guides him and whose intellect leads him to understand, to separate himself and to stand before God...to walk straight as God created him...he is sanctified [with the greatest holiness],“Holy of Holies”...” (14). 

A Chasidic master put it: “Holiness is not found in the human being in essence unless he sanctifies himself. According to his preparation for holiness, so it comes upon him from on High. A person does not acquire holiness while inside his mother. He is not holy from the womb, but has to labor from the very day he comes into the air of the world” (15). Indeed, whatever faults one might attribute to a non-Jewish idol worshipper’s soul would also describe our Jewish ancestors when we worshipped idols in Egypt, “with no difference!” (16). Clearly holiness is determined by behaviour.

Regardless of hardware or software, the idea of chosenness is linked to service (17). One form of this service is the role of the Jews in bringing an understanding of monotheism to all humans and uniting them in worship (18). This emphasises the importance of humanity as a whole, and sees the role of the Jewish people to benefit mankind rather than one of self-centeredness. This is because “all humans are cherished by God, and the Righteous of the Nations are precious to God without a doubt” (19). Furthermore Jews are urged to approach this concept with humility (20). 

I will end with a quote from one of the Rabbis, who, despite being aligned with the inherent differences approach, still strongly embraced love of all humanity. He wrote:

“The highest state of love of creatures should be allotted to the love of mankind, and it must extend to all of mankind, despite all variations of religions, opinions, and faiths, and despite all distinctions of race and climate. It is right to get to the bottom of the views of different peoples and groups, to learn, as much as possible, their characters and qualities, in order to know how to base love of humanity on foundations that approach action. 

For only upon a soul rich in love for creatures and love of man can the love of the nation raise itself up in its full nobility and spiritual and natural greatness. The narrowness that causes one to see whatever is outside the border of the special nation, even outside the border of [the people of] Israel, as ugly and defiled, is a terrible darkness that brings general destruction upon all [efforts at] building of spiritual good, for the light of which every refined soul hopes" (21).

 

Perhaps hardware or software does not matter quite as much as it would seem, as long as we can embrace all of humanity. 

 

Notes: 

I acknowledge Rabbi Hanan Balk and his essay referenced in the notes below as the basis of much of what I have written above. 

1. Exodus 19:5-6, Isaia 41:8-10
2. Targum Yonasan Ben Uziel to Exodus 19:6
3. Ohr Hachayim commentary to Exodus 22:20
4. Murray, D. (2019) The Madness of Crowds, Gender, Race and Identity, Bloomsbury
5. Zohar, Genesis 170, & 171, Kuzari, 1:41-43, in In Balk H., (2013) The Soul of a Jew and the Soul of a Non-Jew, p. 49, 
6. An Inconvenient Truth and the Search for an Alternative in Hakira, vol 13, http://www.hakirah.org/Vol%2016%20Balk.pdf 
7. Eitz  Chayim gate 5:2, Tanya chapter 1 and 2 by R. Shneur Zalman of Liady (1745–1815), and Nefesh ha-Ḥayyim sha’ar 1, ch. 4, by R. Ḥayyim of Volozhin (1749–1821)
8. Tanya, Shaar Hayichud V’Haemuna, chapter 1
9. cited in the discussion between the Lubavitcher Rebbe and Hilel students, cited in Balk, H.,  p.51 
10. With the exception of the extremely rare super saint or tzadik as defined in Tanya chapter 1
11. The text of the morning prayer Elokai Neshama, my God, the soul that you placed within me...
12. Tanya chapter, 29
13. Balk, H., (2013) ibid, see also his strong approach to the interpretation of the coerced divorce
14. Maimonides, Yad Hachazakah, Laws of Repentance 5:2
15. Maimonides, Yad Hachazakah, Laws of Sabbatical and Jubilee Years, 13:13
16. R. Simḥa Bunim of Przysukha, Kol Simḥa, Parshat Miketz, p. 47 and Mesharatav Eish Lohet, p. 228, quoted in Noam Siaḥ, p. 263. In Balk, p. 47
17. Ohr Hachayim commentary to Exodus 22:20, נשמות ישראל עצמם היו טבועות בקליפה ואם כן יהיה גר זה כאחד מכם באין הבדל
18. Targum Yonasan Ben Uziel 
19. Seforno on Exodus 19:5-6  
20. Seforno ibid
21. Chatam Sofer on Yitro, p. 38-39
22. Kook (Mussar Avikha (Jerusalem, 1985), p. 58, no. 10; Orot ha-Kodesh (Jerusalem, 1990), vol. 4, p. 405. In Balk p.54