Dis/Connect Between Lands and “their” peoples - Bechukotai

Recently, I joined a group of Australian born Muslim high school boys in watching a moving film called Before 1770, produced by Shaykh Wesam Charkawi. The film shows deep connections between Muslims and the land of Australia. We learned that “for hundreds of years, Aboriginal Yolngu and Muslim Macassans interacted. They married, traded, exchanged, [and] learnt from one another... The Aboriginal Yolngu have, to this day, preserved words, which were taught during the stay of the Macassans, [including the words] Allah and Muhammad” (1).

This outstanding film helps address the alienation that some young people feel from the place where they live. One of the issues that Muslims tell me is important to them is the degree to which young Muslims in Australia feel or don’t feel a sense of belonging in this country. There is a narrative out there that equates being Australian to being white, being of Christian and Anglo heritage and adopting a set of secular, cultural norms relating to modesty and drinking for example. If a young person accepts that narrative then the choice to identify with Australia can also seem like a betrayal of his or her religious identity. This film appears to separate the choices young people need to make between: connecting with the place of Australia and its long history on the one hand; and identifying with contemporary Australian society on the other.    

Let us put aside the broader question of how people with diverse beliefs and cultures relate to each other in the present and continue with the idea of feeling connected to a place and its history. Are places significant or merely a meaningless platform on which the real drama consisting exclusively of people plays out?  

In my tradition the relationship between a people and a land comes up in the reading this week. The Jewish people had an obligation to allow the land to rest for one of every seven years. In this week’s reading the Torah describes the consequences for the Jews of their failure to meet this responsibility, among other sins. “I will scatter you among the nations...Then, the land will be appeased regarding its sabbaticals. During all the days that it remains desolate while you are in the land of your enemies, the Land will rest and thus appease its sabbaticals (2).

The imagery of this verse is of a land that is resentful toward “its people”. The land is appeased only when the debt to it/her has been paid (3). It fits with a contemporary perspective about an exhausted, polluted planet earth-mother whose patience with her wayward human children is running out and her wrath is soon to be unleashed. This idea resonates for me when I walk in nature near my home, in the shade of nature’s abundant trees and the combination of its quiet and birdsong. The earth deserves care and respect rather than being exploited carelessly.    

It was disappointing to me to read the most popular Torah commentator, Rashi’s, interpretation of the verse above as referring to appeasing God rather than the earth (4). While that might make sense from a literal perspective it removes the opportunity to engage our imagination with the image of an aggrieved living land. However, I was pleased to find a supra-commentary that insisted that Rashi actually did embrace the idea of the land being appeased (5). (5). I was delighted when I found further proof about Rashi’s view in his own commentary on another verse in Chronicles where he is explicit about the appeasement of the land itself (6). The view that the earth itself is appeased is also supported by other commentators (7).

More controversially the relationship between the holy land and the Jewish people is interpreted as being expressed in profound loyalty between the land and “its people”. The Torah states that as part of the process of the Jews being exiled, God “will make the Land desolate” and “your enemies will “desolate [as a verb] upon it” (8). This is interpreted to mean that no other nation that occupies this land will ever truly thrive on it (9). “They will not manage to build walls or towers on it… as the land will not receive any nation or tongue… the land will not welcome anyone until her chicks return to her” (10). (Of course, these types of teachings can make it harder for religious Jews to truly listen to Palestinian narratives of loss of a thriving life on the land. This important and painful discussion is beyond the scope of this blog post.)

Returning to the group of boys at the beginning of this blog post, I can appreciate various ways that connections form between people and places. We are embodied spirits and our bodies exist in places. Our wellbeing is enhanced when we feel connected to where we live and care for those places. Having spent a few more sessions with the boys since we watched the film I trust that they will develop the connections between themselves, their place and accurate understanding of and positive connections with their multicultural, multi-faith diverse fellow inhabitants of this blessed country.

Notes:

1.   https://www.before1770.com
2.  Leviticus 26:33 and 34
3.  Chizkuni on this verse
4.  Rashi on 26:34
5.  Mizrahi, on Rashi 26:34, he explains that Rashi’s intention in shifting toward appeasing God is that ultimately, once the land itself has been appeased, the land, now reconciled to her people, seeks to appease God’s anger about how the land was worked during the Sabbatical year
6. Rashi on 2 Chronicles, 36:20
7. Chizkuni and Abrabanel, on Leviticus 26:33, Metzudat David and Metzudat Tzion on 2 Chronicles, 36:21
8.  Leviticus 26:32
9.  Rashi on Leviticus 26:32 based on Torat Cohanim/Sifra Bechukotai 6:8, 
10. Bchaya, on Leviticus 26:32
    
    

Interfaith Understanding through highlighting both commonality and difference, and inclusive and confronting texts and interpretations

14.05.2019. Yesterday, a group of visiting students from the Jewish, Emanuel School, sat at the front right hand side of a large room. A group of students from the host school, Granville Boys High, of mixed backgrounds including Muslim, Hindu and other unknown beliefs filed in. They sat down at the back left side of the room, leaving a big gap between them and the visitors. The day unfolded and something magical happened. As one student reflected at the end of the day “this morning we were two distinct groups, by the afternoon there was one big group”.

The desire to be one is strong. But we must take care that in trying to become one, we don’t simply become “color blind”, which means that we minimize difference. If we do, we don’t really embrace others as they are, we just pretend that they are exactly like ourselves⁽¹⁾.

The combination of acknowledging commonality while also recognizing difference was evident tonight at an Iftar dinner I attended. As the sun was setting many of the Muslims gathered to pray. It was also prayer time for me so I rose to pray alongside the Muslim worshipers. Unlike Muslim prayer, Jewish prayer involves minimal bowing. As I stood upright alongside the synchronized rows of men and women bowing in unison, the voice of a very young child called out loudly “why is that man not bowing?” The Muslim Sheikh and I reflected afterwards about how the two faiths worship the one God, but do it in different ways and that this is to be respected and celebrated. 

16.05.2019 I am sitting on a plane, traveling home to Sydney from Melbourne after speaking on a panel at my third Iftar dinner, at Deakin University. Our topic was how people of different backgrounds can get along better and the role that religion plays in this.

I suggested that religious leaders need to take responsibility for how we teach sacred texts. There are two ways we can do this. Either we directly confront “inconvenient texts” and grapple with how they are interpreted or we focus more on texts that have a positive inclusive message. My approach has been mainly the former, while Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ approach is the latter.

Before I switched my phone to flight mode I downloaded Sacks’ essay on minority rights⁽²⁾. His starting point is the following verse. “If any of your fellow Israelites become poor and are unable to support themselves among you, help them [as well as any⁽³⁾] (non-citizen) resident and an alien, so they can continue to live among you”⁽⁴⁾. Sacks explains that: “There is, in other words, an obligation to support and sustain a resident alien and that not only does he or she have the right to live in the Holy Land, but they have the right to share in its welfare provisions.” The requirement for equal treatment is also recorded as law⁽⁵⁾.

I am thrown by Sacks’ focus on this inclusive verse. I wrote out a list of all the challenging verses in the same reading, but I delete the list. I try to flow with his argument. He cited the example of an affair between the wife of alien soldier in King David’s army and the King.

“King David has fallen in love and had an adulterous relationship with Batsheva, wife of a ger toshav, Uriah the Hittite. She becomes pregnant. Uriah meanwhile has been away from home as a soldier in Israel’s army. David, afraid that Uriah will come home, see that his wife is pregnant, realise that she has committed adultery, and come to discover that the king is the guilty party, has Uriah brought home. His pretext is that he wants to know how the battle is going. He then tells Uriah to go home and sleep with his wife before returning, so that he will later assume that he himself is the father of the child”. ⁽⁶⁾

David’s plan failed. Uriah chose not to go home out of solidarity with the Israelites. Uriah’s words are recorded in the scripture. Uriah said to David, “The Ark and Israel and Judah are staying in tents, and my commander Joab and my lord’s men are camped in the open country. How could I go to my house to eat and drink and make love to my wife? As surely as you live, I will not do such a thing!” 

Sacks makes the point that “the fact that Tanakh [the Bible] can tell such a story in which a resident alien is the moral hero, and David, Israel’s greatest king, the wrongdoer or villain, tells us much about the morality of Judaism.”

On reflection, I think there is a need for voices like Sacks to highlight the positive. There is also a need to confront the texts that can be taken to legitimise bigotry, which I will continue to do. While in Melbourne I held some discussions with the Jewish Christian Muslim Association about doing exactly that. It irritates me to no end when I hear non-Muslims focus on apparently difficult Islamic texts. I think it is more useful for people to grapple with their own texts and be honest about what is in them. However it is also important to highlight inclusive texts. It is not an either/or choice. It is a case of “and”. Challenging and inclusive text are worth exploring, just as it is valuable to focus on both similarities and differences⁽⁷⁾.

Notes

Rev. Ian Smith in conversation on 16.05.2019.

Sacks, J. (2017) http://rabbisacks.org/minority-rights-behar-bechukotai-5777/

Rashi

Leviticus 25:35, there are some conditions to this law. See Sacks.

Maimonides, in Yad Hachazaka Hilkhot Melachim 10:12, cited by Sacks. “One should act towards resident aliens with the same respect and loving kindness as one would to a fellow Jew”

2 Samuel 11:6-11 in Sacks

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.

Ashamed of one’s child

6 May 2019. As I write these lines, my third oldest son is in the air. He is flying to return to study Torah in Kiryat Gat, Israel, which is only twenty kilometres from Gaza. I was unsure about him getting on the plane yesterday. I am worried about him and all the people who live in that area, both the Israelis in Southern Israel and the Palestinians in Gaza. But, the choice is his, because I do not “own” my son.

I wonder about the independence of children from their parents. I worry about parents feeling ashamed of their children’s failures or shortcomings based on the view that these failures reflect on the parents. It is hard on both parents and their children.

The following verse in the Torah reading this week jumped out at me and got me thinking about all this. “And, if a kohen's (a priest’s) daughter defiles herself through harlotry, it is her father that she desecrates; she shall be burned in fire” (1).

Let us put aside the terrible punishment which I have previously explored (2), except to make clear that these kinds of punishments have not been administered for over two thousand years. Let us also not address the worthwhile questions of why it is the father that we are concerned about but not the mother (3), and why we focus on the sins of the daughters but not those committed by the sons (4). Instead, let us focus on the question of the parent-child enmeshment.  

The verse begins with the word “and”, which implies a continuation of the content of the preceding verses. These verses are focused on priests being “holy”, which also includes a prohibition against the priest marrying a prostitute or a divorcee (an odd combination). One can infer from this that a man’s status is tied up with “his” women, as discussed last year (5).

The Talmud suggests that people will curse the father instead of honoring him (6). To put it another way: the daughter’s behaviour "causes her father to become belittled in the eyes of his friends, who 'know' that he failed miserably in the way he raised his daughter” (7).  This really makes me cringe. It is the equivalent of ‘what will the neighbors say?’. The focus here appears to be on the reputational risk to parents in positions of religious authority. As one man put it, “I wonder if any “clergy kids” have any trouble understanding the [painful] logic behind this verse? …they are raised in an environment of “don’t do anything to embarrass me” [the clergyman] or diminish my reputation” (8).

I feel confronted by the idea that a person would not be free to live their life as they see fit just because someone else needs them to preserve a certain image for someone else. Perhaps, it could be argued that this loss of respect for the dad by his community is improper (9), but it is an unfortunate aspect of human nature. However, according to one authority (10), the loss of respect from peers has even been formalized into law. According to this view, a Cohen-father, whose daughter has changed her faith to worship idols or committed adultery, would not be accorded the honors he would normally get as a Cohen (such as being the first to be called up for the Torah reading). Thankfully, this particular practice of implied shaming and blaming is certainly not practiced today (11).

There are authoritative interpretations that explain this matter as being about the daughter herself, rather than about her father. In these interpretations it is the daughter, not the father, who is desecrated by an act of adultery (12).  

As I reflect on these teachings, I am left with the following thoughts. On the one hand, as parents, we are the guardians of our children, entrusted with their wellbeing and education; we are not their owners. We need to support them in achieving success, but with our motivation being primarily to look after their best interests, and our pride being a secondary consideration. The principle of individual freedom is sacred to me. No one should be pressured to live their lives just to conform to another person’s vanity, opinions or dreams (13). On the other hand, however, as much as I don’t like it, parents' self-esteem is often tied up with their children’s achievements or failures. We dream for our children, we put our heart into facilitating their success, and it is hard to then be philosophical if they seem to be underachieving. It is appropriate for children to take into account the impact of their choices on their parents and other members of their families. We are all interconnected.  

Notes
1)     Leviticus, 21:9, translation based on Ibn Ezra and  https://www.sefaria.org/Leviticus.21?lang=bi&aliyot=0
2)     Cohen’s daughter… blog post
3)     The Chida, in Torat Hachida, Vol 3, p. 96, 16
4)     Abarbanel, on the Sidra, question 5
5)     http://torahforsociallyawarehasid.blogspot.com/2018/05/cohen-forbidden-to-marry-divorcee-emor.html
6)     Sanhedrin 52?, cited in Rashi
7)     Chizkuni
8)     Myron Chaitovsky, in a Facebook discussion. 7.05.2019
9)     Haamek Davar
10)  Mordechai, Chapter 6, Sanhedrin, cited in Torah Temima to this verse, also cited in Rema to Shulchan Aruch Orach Chayim, 128:41),  
11)  See commentaries to Shulchan Aruch Orach Chayim, 128:41, Taz, who cites 128:39 as proof, Magen Avraham, שיירי כנסת הגדולה and and Teshuvos Shvus Yaakov, cited in Be’er Haitev.
12)  Targum Unkelus, particularly as explained by Meshech Chochma, interprets this as her losing the holiness that she had previously received from her father that she desecrates within herself rather than desecrating her father, Targum Yonasan Ben Uziel, he interprets the reference to the father as a technical condition of the law, that it only applies in a case where she is married, or betrothed, but still living in her father’s house.
13)  Rabbi Mendel of Kotzk’s teachings on this resonate strongly for me. Including the following, cited in Dr. Twersky’s writing:  If I am I, simply because I am I, and you are you, simply because you are you; then I am I and you are you. But if I am I because you are you, and you are you because I am I, then I am not I and you are not you, this particular version is cited in The Rift in Israel: Religious Authority and Secular Democracy (1971) by Samuel Clement Leslie, p. 145, https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Menachem_Mendel_of_Kotzk

Synagogue Attack and “Wrong” Emotions

5 May 2019. The following blog post was written early last week. Death is now raining down on the people of southern Israel and Gaza. I feel devastated. I was also deeply saddened by the loss of Lori Gilbert-Kaye when I saw two images side by side: one with her and her daughter in joy together, and a second of her distraught daughter at her grave. May her memory be a blessing.

27 April 2019. It is Monday morning and I am tired. My Facebook feed is overflowing with expressions of collective grief and condemnation relating to the attack on a Chabad synagogue, in California on Saturday. Text messages of support from Arab Muslim friends are received and gratefully acknowledged. Otherwise, I say nothing publicly. A human being was murdered, a precious life taken, injuries and trauma inflicted in this attack on Jewish people from my community. It follows massacres in Sri Lanka, Christchurch, Pittsburgh and Egyptian places of worship. A jumble of thoughts and feelings flow through me, but I have no clarity.  

I feel like I am 7 years old again, at summer camp in the Catskill Mountains. My cousin was in hospital then. He had fallen out of a second floor window a week earlier. I was not terribly upset on that particular day. I remember vividly walking with my camp counselor between the house we were staying in at the infirmary when he told me I was a “Pay-Tzadik” (a bad person) because I was not sadder or praying for my cousin. I felt deeply ashamed and confused.

Of course, I agree with the people, both Jewish and not Jewish, who urged more love and less hate. It is just that the words have been said so many times that they sound hollow to me. It was the raw outpouring of grief and outrage across the world that I felt unsettled by.  

There was a time when I would be part of the choir. I would feel that this is not just any mass murder. No, this is an attack on us! When I was growing up in Brooklyn and we heard about a tragedy the first question was if there were any Jews involved. Now it was the Jews in a Chabad synagogue who were involved! Should I have felt like emoting like crazy? Instead I felt inclined to be quiet.

In the past my loyalty to my own people was questioned by others because of my empathy with Muslims. This time I questioned myself. Why am I not more upset about this?

It must be said that it is, generally, not useful to judge ourselves for having the “wrong” emotions. I care about hatred of Jews and I have done more to counter this than many of the emotional posters on social media. This matters more than the intensity of my current emotions.

Research into reducing social distance between members of minority communities and the “white” population found that it is possible “to improve children’s attitudes toward a racial outgroup without causing a negative impact on their feelings toward their [own] racial ingroup”¹. I wonder if that finding is entirely true for me. Does my identifying with Muslims and Aboriginal Australians and empathising with their plight make me less tuned in to my own people? I am not sure.

What is clear to me is that we must care for “our own communities”, however we define them, as well as for those from backgrounds that differ to ours². It is not for me, or any advocate for coexistence, to minimize the hatred against any group, and that includes Antisemitism in all its forms, which is wrong and must be combatted.

30 April 2019. The one emotion that I am both drawn to at this time to but also feel a little reluctant about is hatred toward bigotry itself. I think we learn from a young age that hatred is a bad emotion. The Torah commandment states “do not hate your brother in your heart”³. One commentator interprets the words “your brother” in this verse to indicate the degree to which we must avoid hatred. He argues that even the kind of hatred which is merely to feel a small measure of distance, e.g. to feel not quite like a brother, is still forbidden⁴.

Perhaps because of teachings such as these, hatred is a taboo emotion for many people. Yesterday I asked a group of Muslim and Jewish twelve year olds spending a day together: if hatred is so bad, why did God create hatred? The students replied that hatred was created for the purpose of being rejected, or as a contrast so we can better appreciate love.

It is nice to hear these sentiments but I think hatred has a purpose. Once, a gay student in a Together for Humanity program stated that she thought it was ok to hate her tormentors, her peers who taunted her and made her life miserable. One opinion in the Talmud suggests that hating evil doers has merit ⁵. Thankfully, this idea has been so heavily qualified and restricted according to one scholar ⁶, as to make it practically meaningless in terms of hating people. Instead we are taught to hate evil deeds ⁷ rather than sinners. I certainly and passionately hate, the twisted thinking, the indulgence of stupid lazy and insular thinking that legitimised the murder of a Jewish woman in a synagogue. I will continue to work to counter it.

Notes:

1.     Levi, S.R., West, T. L., Bigler, R.S., Karafantis, D.M., Ramizez, L., Velilla, E. (2005) Messages about the uniqueness and similarities of people: Impact on US Black and Latino youth. Journal of Applied Development Psychology 26 p.728

2.     Ethics of the Fathers, 1:14

3.     Leviticus 19:17

4.     Ohr Hachayim commentary, translation/adaptation is from Sefaria.org. His “approach to this verse is based on the unusual structure of the verse. It should have read: "לא תשנא בלבבך את אחיך, the word "in your heart" which we consider central should not have been written at the end. [Based on his understanding of Hebrew Grammar] the source of the hatred, the heart, should have been mentioned before the object of the hatred, a fellow Jew. ...the message is that a person should not think that the Torah only forbids the kind of hatred which is the forerunner of acts of revenge or violence but does not forbid harbouring ill feelings towards someone in one's heart. By mentioning the object of one's hatred immediately next to the prohibition to hate, the Torah made it clear that even the kind of hatred which is not related to acts of retaliation is forbidden. As soon as a person distances himself mentally and emotionally from his fellow Jew he begins to violate the prohibition of hatred as defined by the Torah in this verse”.

5.     Talmud Pesachim, 113b, Maimonides in Yad Hachazaka, Hil Rotzeach Ushmiras Nefesh 13:14

6.     Tanya, chapter 32

7.     Beruria in the Talmud, Brachot, 10a

An Angel’s Touch and the Melancholy Murders Rabbi’s Talk at Mosque on Mental Health

An edited version of my talk at Dural Musalah on a panel with Imam Farhan Khalil 10.02.2019

One day, I stood in my school library and looked at the bookshelves. I was not looking for a book. I was just feeling down. A fellow student named Yossi came into the library and asked me what was wrong. I could tell, from the way he talked, from his tone and body language, that he cared. So I blurted out that I was never going to be anyone, I would never end up doing anything exciting in my life, I would be one of the “botched and befuddled, huddled masses” that Robin Williams’ character talked about in the movie “The Fisher King”. Yossi asked me why I thought this. “Because I am a yukel!” (1)I replied. "That’s why!” He said I should not believe that about myself. 

I have never forgotten that very short, caring conversation Yossi and I had, as 15 year old boys, over thirty years ago. He was like an angel sent to me when I needed it. I reiterate Imam Farhan’s guidance in his talk prior to mine: if we see someone who is feeling down and we are approached for moral support, we must make the time to provide it.  

In addition to the support we get from each other, we can also, as the Imam stated, draw strength from our faith. One lesson in my tradition is that God has infinite capacity for forgiveness:  if He can forgive me, surely, I can forgive myself (2). 

We must differentiate between clinical depression and low moods, because these are not identical phenomena; however there is certainly overlap between these states (3). I agree with the Imam that there are situations when professional help is the responsible path to take. However, it is also useful to explore how our mental state is influenced by our spirituality, and how our mental state, in turn, can impact on the spiritual and ethical dimensions of our lives. 

Sadness is quite appropriate and beneficial (4) at certain times. For example, sadness can lead to repentance, reflection, or heightened sensitivity to the plight of others. Being sad or depressed is not shameful. The secondary suffering that comes from people feeling ashamed that they are not upbeat all the time, is terribly harmful and unwarranted. It is ok, sometimes, to not feel ok. Furthermore, if I feel disappointed about my energy levels, I can remind myself that  I am not to blame for my nature because “I have not created myself” (5). However, I need to balance my rejection of shame and guilt about my sadness with recognition of its possible harmful repercussions. 

My community, the Hasidim, say: ”Melancholy is not a sin, but the spiritual damage it can do, no sin can do.” (6) This assertion is explained by using a metaphor of physical wrestlers. If one wrestler is in good spirits and the other is sluggish and sad, the weaker wrestler who is in high spirits, can easily overcome his sluggish, stronger opponent (7). The same is true for the inner jihad, the spiritual struggle with oneself (8). If we are in deep sadness, we have little energy to overcome our evil inclination, the “Nefesh Habehamis”, our animal soul, or, as Muslims might refer to it, the “Nafs” (9). Although depression is not shameful, it is often spiritually inconvenient.
  

The destructive potential of melancholy can be linked to the Genesis account of Cain, the son of Adam and Eve. He brought an offering to God of the fruit of the land. His brother Abel also brought an offering, of the firstborn of his flocks and of their fattest. The Lord turned to Abel and to his offering. But to Cain and to his offering, He did not turn. This angered Cain exceedingly, and “his face fell” (10). Cain was “despising himself” (11) when he saw how God not only rejected his poor quality offering, but him personally, as a lowly person, of poor character (12). 

God invited Cain to reflect on his anger and dejection, but Cain declined. Shortly thereafter, Cain murdered his brother Abel. 

Another example is the story of King Ahab and Naboth:

Naboth had a vineyard next to the palace of Ahab, the king of Samaria. Ahab asked Naboth to sell him the vineyard. Naboth refused to sell the inheritance of his forefathers to the King. “Ahab came to his house sad and upset because of [Naboth’s refusal]. He lay on his bed, turned his face away, and did not eat bread”. Queen Jezebel advised Ahab to frame Naboth. "Proclaim a fast and place Naboth in the forefront of the people. Set up two wicked men opposite him and they will testify [falsely] against him saying, 'You have cursed God and the king.'”  The plan went ahead and Naboth was killed. Ahab then stole the vineyard (13). 

In both of these cases, the murderer was in a poor mental state prior to the crime. Neither man received or, in the case of Cain, accepted help to deal with this. 

A third man was even more depressed. Elijah, the prophet, wanted to die. Terribly frustrated by the ongoing pressures (14) and disheartened, he would not eat. He just lay down in the shade and slept. But he got help. An angel touched him, woke him and urged him to eat. He ate a little bit but went back to sleep. The angel touched him again and urged him to eat (15). 

After the second “angel’s touch”, Elijah rose. Now, two of our stories converge. Elijah was sent to King Ahab with a stinging rebuke about what he did to Naboth, “Have you murdered and also inherited?!” (16).

To look after ourselves and each other emotionally and mentally, is a challenging religious responsibility.  Feeling depressed is not shameful; it is, at least partly, God’s doing. Many of us have experienced depression at some stage of our lives; in fact, it has even afflicted biblical prophets and kings. Sometimes, people need to be alone in their sadness. This must be respected. However, there are other situations where there is a need for, and openness to, being touched by an angel. Let us be that angel for those who are open to it. Further, when need support ourselves, let us find the strength to seek it, when it is right for us. Let us try our best to accept support by those angels who offer a loving touch. 

Notes: 

Thanks for inspiration on this topic to Rabbi Nicole Guzik and her article https://namisanmateo.org/judaism-and-mental-illness/

1)  The Yiddish word “yukel”, as we used it in our subculture, could be translated as a loser, and has connotations of weakness, the opposite of someone charismatic and at the top of the social food chain. 

2) Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, in Tanya, Igeret Hateshuva, chapter 11  

3) Lomas, T. (2016) The Positive Power of Negative Emotions, Piatkus, p. 48

4) Proverbs 14:23, Lomas, T. (2016) The Positive Power of Negative Emotions

5)  Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, in Tanya, chapter 31

6)  R. Aharon 'HaGadol’ of Karlin, cited in HaTomim, (1936) Feigin, R. Y. Vol. 4, Warsaw, Summer (Tammuz) p.58 [in the original publication, 388 in printed version], 

7)   Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, in Tanya chapter 26

8)  Well-known Islamic teaching, about the greater jihad being the battle within oneself. Also cited in R. Bachya ibn Pakuda in Chovot Halevavot, but attributed to an anonymous “pious one”. 

9)  S and Sh sounds are interchangeable in Hebrew, the Hebrew word Nefesh, soul, appears linked to the Arabic word Nafs. 

10)  Genesis 4:3-6 

11)  Midrash Hagadol, cited in Torah Shlaima, p. 312, 44. 

12)  Chasam Sofer commentary to Genesis 4:4-5, he draws attention to the lengthy wording in both verses.  The LORD paid heed to Abel and to his offering, and again, but to Cain and to his offering, He paid no heed.

13)  Kings I, 21:1-16

14)  Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel, on Kings I, 19:4

15)   Kings I, 19:4-8

16)  Kings I, 21:19

Driven and Depleted, Reflections on Orientations to Work

“And the fish in the river died, and the river stank” (1). This is a description of a plague upon the Nile river, at a time that the Hebrews were dehumanised and driven to perform hard labour. In our own time, the depletion of the Darling river system and the death of over a million fish at Menindee is devastating for the people who live near and depend on the river. While this blog post is about depleted human beings, rather than rivers I see a parallel between the ways in which we are taking too much out of rivers and humans. In this blog post I argue that the stresses of modern life can be reduced by de-emphasising materialistic striving and replacing it with a more spiritual and accepting worldview.

I was moved by an article by Dr. Anne Helen Petersen on How Millennials Became The Burnout Generation (2). She describes depleted people. Simple tasks can make millennials feel overwhelmed. “I was deep in a cycle of “errand paralysis.” I’d put something on my weekly to-do list, and it’d roll over, one week to the next, haunting me for months. None of these tasks were that hard: getting knives sharpened, or vacuuming my car. A handful of emails — one from a dear friend, one from a former student asking how my life was going — festered in my personal inbox,... to the point that I started calling it the “inbox of shame.” 

Petersen argues that: “Burnout and the behaviors and weight that accompany it aren’t, in fact, something we can cure by going on vacation. ...it’s not a temporary affliction: It’s the millennial condition. It’s our background music. It’s the way things are. It’s our lives.”

What is going on? Some of the elements in the article by Petersen are the following: 

Purpose: This generation has been “trained, tailored, primed, and optimized for the workplace — first in school...— starting as very young children”. (3)

Expectations: Millenials have great expectations that emphasise individual fulfillment and success: A students told Professor Petersen: “I want a cool job I’m passionate about!” For millenials the job needed to tick 3 boxes; “employment that reflects well on their parents (steady, decently paying...) that’s also impressive to their peers (at a “cool” company) and “doing work that you’re passionate about”. More broadly, there were expectations that the current generation would be better off than their parents’ generation in terms of health and finances. Many millennials have realised that this expectation is not being met. “One thing that makes that realization sting even more is watching others live their seemingly cool, passionate, worthwhile lives online”.  

Work Conditions and rewards: Apart from the distortions created on social media, there are real injustices in the ways that many modern workers are rewarded for their hard work. The nature of the work itself is exhausting for many people. There is a tendency to work 24/7, replying to emails in bed, is one example of this. “The exhaustion experienced in burnout combines an intense yearning for this state of completion with the tormenting sense that it cannot be attained, that there is always some demand or anxiety or distraction which can’t be silenced”. 

How does one respond to this situation from a Jewish perspective? 

Judaism insists that beyond values like progress, and success in the “market”, lies a higher spiritual purpose to life. To protect the earth (4) in addition to working it (5), “The doing of justice, the love of kindness, and to walk discreetly with your God” (6); It is about righteousness (7), and holiness (8) and behaving in way that contributes to the “glory of God” (9). Of course, one does not need to be religious to live for a higher purpose. 

Like life in general, education must also be oriented toward a higher purpose, preparing children for this purpose rather than for work. The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught that education focused on work-readiness was spiritually similar to what the Egyptians tried to do when they threw Hebrew boys into the Nile. The Nile was an Egyptian God and the source of their livelihood. The Rebbe railed against those he believed were “throwing Jewish children in to the river of the customs and mannerisms of the land, ...which to their mind gives them “Parnasa”, their livelihood” (10). 

The disregard for secular knowledge can certainly go too far. Good Jewish schools combine Torah education and excellent secular education. Their students learn; how to be good, well functioning people, good Jews, as well as the skills and knowledge required for the workplace. 

The virtue of diligent work in highly prized in Judaism (11). However, let us not deceive ourselves that preparation and hard work always deliver wealth. Expectation is a great source of misery. It is utter rubbish to believe that if you expect something “the universe will give it to you”. In fact the evidence proves that exclusively positive thinking can reduce your successes  (12). Instead we are encouraged to aspire to equanimity- the ultimate virtue (13), happily accepting whatever outcome we get (14). Not easy, but worth aspiring to. 

Freed of expectations we can try to ‘go with the flow’ rather than be driven at work. We are instructed to rest on the Sabbath but in six days we should do “all our work” (15). This means that on Friday when we finish work, we regard it as complete and avoid thinking about on the Sabbath (16). Any work not done in the previous week is irrelevant to the week that passed. It is next week’s work! The psalms said it best “It is a falsehood for you, early risers, delayers of sleep, eaters of bread of tension! Indeed He [God] will give sleep to those he loves” (17). 

To change our individual thinking and habits is not enough. Pederson reflects on the fact that despite seeing injustices in the workplace, “we didn’t try to break the system, since that’s not how we’d been raised. We tried to win it”. The Torah demands that “justice, justice you shall pursue” (17). Perhaps we can start with replenishing ourselves by orienting ourselves to a more spiritual sense of purpose and a balanced pace of work and life. The next step is to engage with our communities and politics to ensure that people, the rivers and natural environments that nurture us are all cared for effectively. 

Notes

1. Exodus 7:21
2. https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/annehelenpetersen/millennials-burnout-generation-debt-work
3. Malcolm Harris cited in Petersen 
4. Genesis 2:15
5. Ibid and Job 5:7
6. Micah 6:8
7. Genesis 18:19
8. Leviticus 19:2
9. Pirkey Avot, 6:11
10. Likutei Sichos Vol 1, p. 111-112
11. Genesis 29:7, and 31:39-40 and many other sources in the oral law
12. Kappes, H. and Oettingen, in Lomas, T. (2016) The Positive Power of Negative Emotions, Piatkus, p. 48
13. R. Bachya ibn Pakuda (Chovot Halevovot, Sha’ar Yichud Hama'aseh, ch. 5), p. 44 in Feldheim edition,  The Baal Shem Tov, https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/145431/jewish/Tzavaat-Harivash-2-3.htm 
14. Pirkey Avot,4:1
15. Exodus 20:9 
16. Mechilta cited in Rashi
17. Psalm 127:2
18. Deuteronomy 16:20

Br/others? Chanukah in Abu Dhabi and Jerusalem

A cheap white plastic ritual washing cup (Kvort in my mother tongue, yiddish) with two handles stirred strong emotions in me. Really. I felt that I was home among my people. The feeling surprised me. It confronted me with the challenge I still face, of navigating otherness and insular identities. The Jewish festival of Chanukah is a good time to grapple with this topic. 

Muslim Washing Stations (Wudu) at Sheik Zayed
Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi

Jewish Ritual Washing Cup, (Kvort),
at Ben Gurion Airport, Tel Aviv

I spent the first two nights of Chanukah with my Jewish community at home in Sydney. I danced with my two youngest children after lighting candles. We sang about God's miracles in delivering victory to the Jews in their struggle to stand spiritually apart. It was a triumph over an empire that tried to coerce the Jews to assimilate into the dominant Hellenistic way of life. While different Jews will have their own approaches to Chanukah, according to my Chabad traditions, Chanukah celebrates the concept of the Jews as a nation who “dwelled alone” (1). 

Shaykh Abdulla Bin Bayyah seated, with Shaykh
Hamza Yusuf, Rabbis including Mark Lustig, David
Rosen and Zalman Kastel, Lighting Chanukah
Candles. Photo by Peter Sanders

On the third night of Chanukah I found myself on my first visit to an Arab country, Abu Dhabi. I was there to participate in the Forum for Peace in Islamic Societies, which was initiated by an Islamic authority, Shaykh Abdullah Bin Bayyah. Delegates at the Forum included many Muslim leaders from the Middle East, Africa, Europe and the US. Alongside these leaders were a number of Christian and Jewish leaders. The diversity of the participants reflected the aim of the conference: advancing an alliance of virtue between people of different faiths (2).

A highlight for me at the forum was when Shaykh Bin Bayyah joined me and the other Jewish delegates as I lit my Chanukah oil lamp. He was genuinely very warm in his conversation with us. I was deeply moved by the significance of the moment and the togetherness it represented. 

The interfaith candle lighting moment reflected the inclusive spirit of the forum as a whole. Nearly every panel had Jewish and Christian panelists alongside Muslim scholars. Kosher food was brought in from neighbouring Dubai. Still, communal Jewish morning prayers there provided an opportunity for me to sing the Hallel prayer together with members of my “tribe” alone. 

Loyalty to one’s “tribe” is a significant factor in how we live our lives. One speaker at the Forum, Rabbi Dr Reuven Firestone, recalled how early Islam taught people a universal approach to justice that could override tribal loyalties where appropriate. The challenge now is to apply this approach to overcome unconditional solidarity on the basis of religion, or as expressed in identity politics. 

Another speaker, Mufti Muhammad Taqi Usmani of the Fiqh council, Karachi, Pakistan, offered conference delegates a more technical legal approach that does not rely on transcending those ties, instead it emphasises obligations to one’s neighbours and fellow citizens. “There is an implicit pact between Muslims and non Muslims, wherever they live alongside each other, not to cause harm to each other. Violation of that implicit pact is a sin”. A Yazidi delegate man at the forum, pleaded for this principle to be applied in Northern Iraq so his people don’t live in fear and will not need to emigrate. “We are peaceful people” he declared. 

The bar set by the Mufti is not very high but it is a critical minimum. The forum usefully addressed coexistence at a range of levels. On one hand it openly confronted the problem of violent extremism on one end of the spectrum but Shaykh Bin Bayyah also called for the highest ideals of loving the stranger, quoting the Torah (3). In fact, he pointed out, the Arabic word for brother is almost exactly the same word as the one meaning other. What's amazing is that he said this in Arabic and it also works in English and Hebrew:
- Brother = Akh أخ
- Other = Akhr آخر. 
In Hebrew, Akh - אח and Akher - אחר.  

The combined message of striving for a ideal of togetherness while insisting that at least we do not harm each other is realistic and useful.

My time in Abu Dhabi wrapped up with a visit to the massive Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque with a Palestinian- Australian friend. From there I was back on a plane to a land very precious to both my friend and me.

I spent the final days of Chanukah with my son who is studying Torah in the Holy land of Israel. During my visit there was one more little identity conflict to deal with. I'm of Eastern European Yiddish heritage. On Chanukah “my people” eat Latkes, a kind of fried potato pancakes. But the Israelis have jam doughnut as their Chanukah food. Only partly in jest, my son and I engaged in a Latke hunt across Jerusalem, peering into numerous shop windows in the old city, only to see falafel and endless sugary doughnuts. We went to the ultra-religious area of Meah Shearim, but the elusive Latke could not be found. So we went to the yiddish speaking area of Geulah and bingo! The Latke search yielded two delicious oily specimens. I was with “my people” at last. 

Together and alone. As the great teaching by Hillel puts it. “If I am not for myself [my community] who will be there for me? But  if I am only for myself [and my kind] what am I? (4). As I reflect on my trip, I am grateful for the inspiration from the Muslim Imams, their hospitality and goodwill. I carry with me photos and memories of marble ritual washing stations in the Sheikh Zayed Mosque. Yet, I continued to feel a sense of home when looking at a cheap white plastic Jewish ritual washing cup. 

Notes:


1) Numbers 23:9
2) This practical problem solving focus has been endorsed by Rabbi JB Soloveitchik in his essay, Confrontation, and chabad Rabbis I have discussed it with. It is also at the heart of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ book, the Home We Build Together. 
3) Leviticus 19:34
4) Pirkey Avot, 1:14