Breaching Spiritual Language Barriers - Devarim

L-R Jarrod McKenna and Aboriginal Aunty Ellen Gaykamangu 

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

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

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

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

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

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

1)    Deuteronomy 1:5.

2)    Midrash Tanchuma Devarim, 2.

3)    Levush Haorah on Deuteronomy 1:5.

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