Embracing Uncertainty and Pharaoh’s hardened heart Vayera

Aboriginal and Military men on Australia day on a navy ship

I am feeling daunted. I need to make things happen in a messy context of conflicting beliefs, ranging from relativist/postmodernist to “fundamentalist”/positivist. Some object to Muslim girls in hijabs being on an Australia day poster; others donate money to reinstate the poster and a third group who believe Australia Day itself is symbolically evil because of its celebration on a day when injustices were inflicted on Aboriginal people that lasted for many generations.

In addition, my core team at Together For Humanity is growing to 6. It was not that long ago when it was just 2 or 3. In the course of our work we deal with a range of people including genuine committed people who ‘get it’ and the insincere or misguided who present obstacles to meaningful conversations about contentious issues or our work more generally.  I need to lead this team through all of this ambiguity to get results for students, stakeholders and governments, all with their own sometimes conflicting interests, beliefs and needs.

One comforting thought that came up in discussions with some Muslim applicants during job interviews at TFH  was that “God’s will will be done”. Similarly, one religious response to the rise of a certain world leader who appears to be neither wise nor principled, is that God will guide him in accordance with the tradition that “The hearts of Kings are in the hands of God” (1).

The hunger for escape from uncertainty in faith is similar to the impulse that drives otherwise sane people to embrace a comical con-man and give him power. Yet, this comfort - of a compassionate God controlling the hearts of rulers- comes up against the reality that many rulers, past and present, have done and continue to do terrible things regardless of whatever divine influences are at play.

At a work level I trust God, myself and my team to do good and to navigate the complexities, while acknowledging that some external factors might be too difficult to overcome. I suggest that we are better off acknowledging the uncertain nature of reality (2), and that whatever divine influence there is, is more indirect and complex.  

This is a tricky topic for me. For many years I rejected the argument that ‘God didn’t do the Holocaust, men did’ (3). I grew up with a sense of God being the one that basically controlled everything. I thought: ‘Why would you pray to a God who had left the affairs of humans to the whims of sadistic tyrants?’

Like many things in Judaism there are conflicting views. In the Torah reading this week, we learn how God planned to manipulate the Pharaoh’s emotions by “hardening his heart” (4) so that he would initially ignore God’s messengers of freedom. One authority taught that in matters of the kingdom, the choices of the king are restricted by God and the king is like a messenger of God. “If these matters were given over to his choice completely just as his private activities are, this would be an astounding danger to the nation under the sovereignty of that king” (5).  

Despite the risks of out-of-control rulers, I was delighted to read the work of one of our great authorities who challenged the simple understanding that God manipulated Pharaoh’s emotions. This scholar dismissed attempts to justify divine control as very strange and difficult! (6) Instead he argued that the choices of kings are not manipulated in a puppet like fashion (7). Rather, God acts in such a way that can lead the ruler to make a particular choice. In the case of the Pharaoh, God indirectly hardened his heart by bringing plagues on the Egyptians in what seemed to be happenstance: a plague began but was not sustained. This created an opportunity for the Pharaoh to dismiss the significance of the plague as a natural occurrence.   

Another view about this is the punitive approach that explains the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart as an exceptional punishment for his wickedness (8). However this implies that normally kings do have free choice (9). All in all, it is fair to conclude that Judaism’s teaching about the nature of God’s intervention in the affairs of rulers is complex and that is ok.

I read a delightful thought this week about embracing complexity. “The dilemma of rigor or relevance. In the varied topography of professional practice, there is a high, hard ground overlooking a swamp.  On the high ground, manageable problems lend themselves to solution through the use of research-based theory and technique.  In the swampy lowlands, problems are messy and confusing and incapable of technical solution.  The irony of this situation is that the problems of the high ground tend to be relatively unimportant to individuals or society at large,...while in the swamp lie the problems of greatest human concern…” (10)

So it is clear, that a lot of what matters is inherently unclear but that is where the opportunities for contribution lie. So I take a deep breath and dive into the swamp. I am comforted by the belief that in some mysterious way my heart will be guided.   

1. This often quoted Jewish teaching appears to be based on Proverbs 21:1 states: “A king's heart is like rivulets of water in the Lord's hand; wherever He wishes, He turns it. The book of Ezra 6:22 it states: And they celebrated the feast of unleavened bread seven days with joy, for the Lord made them joyful and turned the heart of the king of Assyria toward them to strengthen their hands in the work of the House of God, the God of Israel. Rashi’s commentary on Ezra 6:22 makes clear that it is God who turned the heart of the King of Assyria. Ibn Ezra’s commentary on the verse is less clear. He points out that Assyria had previously destroyed the land of Israel, but now his heart was turned from his evil thoughts to good and this is the reason to strengthen their hands. It is not clear if Ibn Ezra agrees with Rashi that it is God who turned the hearts or with Sadiaa Gaon in note 7 that kings turn their own hearts. I found some of these references at http://forum.otzar.org/forums/viewtopic.php?t=992
2. See the work of Donald Schon who sees reality as inherently uncertain and complex. http://infed.org/mobi/donald-schon-learning-reflection-change/
3. Harold Kushner in When Bad Things Happen to Good People.
4. Exodus 7:3
5. Ralbag, on Proverbs 21:1,
   אילו היה פועל המלך מסור בליבו לאלו העינינים בשלמות כדרך המסור לבחירתו פעולותיו לעצמו, היה זה העניין סכנה נפלאה (= חמורה) אל העם אשר תחת המלך ההוא" וכו'
6. Abarbanel on Exodus 7:3
7. Abarbanel, see also Rabbi Saadia Gaon who characterised the idea that there is some kind of supernatural divine planting of thoughts in the hearts of kings is an exaggeration, instead it is the king himself who turns his own heart as he desires, in Emunot Vdeot, Maamar 4, close to the end.
8. Shemot Rabba, 13:4- cited in Torah Shlaima, on Exodus 10:1, parshat Bo, page 1, Rashi on Exodus 7:3, Maimonides, introduction to Pirkey Avot, chapter 8. This formulation is articulated as being withheld from repentance, although this concept is also explained psychologically by Ohr HaAfelia, (Torah Shlaima, on Exodus 10:1, parshat Bo, page 2- in note 2 from previous page) that being entrenched in a particular sin is itself the active factor in being withheld from repertance.
9. http://forum.otzar.org/forums/viewtopic.php?t=992

Schon, Donald http://dsmgt310.faculty.ku.edu/SuppMaterial/SchonEpistofPractice.htm

An Understanding Heart; Choice or gift?

Muslim and Jewish students form relationships at a
Together For Humanity run interschool program,
in Sydney Australia. Some prefer to sit with their
peers as can be seen by  the clusters of green and blue
school uniforms. They are gently coaxed to develop greater
comfort with each other, during an interschool cooking
activity at Our Big Kitchen this week. 

Yesterday I observed Jewish and Muslim children and young adults responding to each other with varying degrees of love.  There were young girls from two schools one Muslim the other Jewish, hugging each other good bye and boys engaged in cool and comfortable friendly chatting.  One boy seemed less sure about it all, saying he would miss the others, then adding; “or maybe not”. 

The young adults also ranged from open hearted sharing, moving reflection and good will to two much more guarded young men, who seemed to me (perhaps wrongly) to approach the whole thing with suspicion.  It set me thinking about the process of acquiring understanding.

A gift?

It seems to me that understanding is at least to some extent a gift from our parents, our experiences or even from God either in our essential nature, or some other act of grace.  This seems to be confirmed by this phrase from our reading this week about Moses’ speech to his people at the end of a 40 year trek through the desert and on the last day of his life. “Moses called all of Israel and said to them, "You have seen all that the Lord did before your very eyes in the land of Egypt, to Pharaoh, to all his servants, and to all his land; …the great signs and wonders (Miracles). Yet until this day, the Lord has not given you a heart to know, eyes to see and ears to hear[i]”.

In ten years of bridge building work, I have learned that understanding cannot be created on demand, nor can it be rushed.  It needs to be given the chance to develop.  In the case of the Jews in the desert it is only after 40 years they can understand what happened with the gift of hindsight[ii].  Perhaps what is needed is a change of circumstances, such as the death of the charismatic Moses (on “this day”) for people to understand the full picture, in this case the more important factor which is the hand of God[iii].

The Choice & responsibility argument

If people are to be held responsible for their actions, it would be because we assume them to have the ability to make choices.  Commentaries, therefore, reinterpret the idea of “God not giving people the heart to know” in ways that shift the responsibility back to the people. One simply adds a question mark, so it is a rhetorical question rather than a statement, “Did God not give you a heart..?![iv] One suggests that God did not give the people a heart for the purpose of forgetting him, as they did, but rather for the purpose of choosing to know…[v]. Another argues that the intent here is about God’s role being limited to being the ultimate first cause of everything[vi], so the argument is that it could be said that God did not, in the end, provide them with a heart to understand but this was because of their own rebelliousness[vii] and their choice to test (rather than trust) God and to forget the miracles they had seen[viii]. 

A combination

Understanding certainly involves some effort on our part, yet much of what we achieve in our understanding of our fellow man or of God is a gift. One commentator expressed it as follows, “God favours man with understanding. But God will only bestow this gift on one who makes a genuine effort…[ix]” In one mystical tradition, through our good deeds we become worthy of being gifted with additional and loftier layers of our souls[x]. 

This combination is seen in one text that combines advice to avoid judging and disparaging people by understanding their faults as being “caused” by their difficult circumstances, yet also asserting that regardless of what situations people find themselves in, they are still responsible for their choices and behaviour[xi].

The Very Ugly Man

Rabbi Eliezer was once riding on a donkey on the coast, he was feeling really happy because he had studied a lot of Torah[xii].  Then he chanced upon a very ugly man, (not just in the physical sense but it was clear to the Rabbi that the man had an ugly character[xiii]).

The man greeted him, "Shalom, Rabbi!" Rabbi Eliezer did not return the greeting. Instead, he stared at the man and said, "Empty (headed) one! Are all the inhabitants of your town as ugly as you?"

The man replied: " Why don't you tell the craftsman who made me, “how ugly is the vessel you made?"

Because he realised that he had done wrong, Rabbi Eliezer went down from his donkey, prostrated himself and begged the man for forgiveness. .. [xiv]

Judgemental and Smug

I remember some years ago feeling quite judgmental and hostile toward a man who I thought had a serious deficit of understanding and capacity for empathy.   I realised that like Rabbi Eliezer, I objected not to his actions but his nature.  I realised that I was giving myself credit for my nature, which I believe is essentially a gift and blaming him for defects in his nature which essentially was not his own doing.   I learned to appreciate him for his strengths, while still not liking some of his less endearing attitudes.   Remarkably, after I accepted him for who he was, I noticed a gradual shift in some of his thinking and behaviour.

Conclusion

Understanding is both a gift and a choice.  On Let us not feel superior to those who have not yet reached the degree of understanding that we enjoy, only partly due to our own efforts.  Still, those of us who “understand” have an obligation and opportunities to try to provide opportunities for those not yet blessed with understanding hearts.

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[i] Deuteronomy 29:1-3

[ii] Melechet Machshavet, cited in Leibovitz, N, Studies in Devarim, Elizer Library, Department For Torah education…the Joint Authority for Jewish, Zionist Education, Jerusalem, P.292

[iii] Meshech Chochma

[iv] Abarbanel

[v] Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel, in his translation he simply adds the words “for the purpose of forgetting him, as you did, but rather” , between “has not given you a heart”, and “to know”

[vi] Ibn Ezra

[vii] Seforno

[viii] Ibn Ezra

[ix] Malbin, cited and translated in Leibovitz

[x] This is my understanding of a central theme in the Ben Ish Chai’s writing

[xi] Tanya 30

[xii] There is an element of self-satisfaction here. See http://www.daat.ac.il/daat/sifrut/agadot/barkai-2.htm

[xiii] I was unable to find the source for this commentary at this time.

[xiv] Talmud, Taanit 20a &b