Is "Choose Life" Really A Choice?

Deut: 30:19: “I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your seed may live.”

It’s your birthday, and I’m giving you two presents. One of them is horrible; something no one would want. So I’m telling you to pick the other one! But why then did I put two down in the first place – why not just give the nice one? Isn’t that a kind of unpleasant mind game? And what if you want the horrible one, will I give it to you?

And seriously: what is the point of giving someone a choice and then commanding them to pick only one, thereby removing that choice?

But is it indeed a commandment, or just a strong recommendation? That’s the difficulty in the Torah, that some things that are worded so they sound like commands are not actually so, e.g. “six days you shall work and on the seventh day is for rest” (I did hear one opinion that this is in fact a mitzvah to work!).

I hear in our verse not a command, but a heartfelt request and strong encouragement. We are allowed to choose the path of life or the path of death, that is how the world is structured. The way I hear G-d’s voice is—so to speak—imploring us, saying:

I have put terrible things into the world I have created. Enough of them that you can choose to focus on them all day every day, and become suffused with feelings of anger, disgust, and despair. I will not take away your free will; you get to decide where to put your eyes. But please, for the sake of this grand experiment I have called Life, please make dozens of tiny choices every day and every week to look at the good. ‘For this thing is very near to you, in your mouth, and in your heart, that you may do it.’” (Deut: 30:14)

Something in human nature pulls us constantly into the negative. I find that the only way to remain in the positive place, the “choosing life” place, is to constantly make endless small good choices.
Rambam (Hilchot Teshuva 3:4) notes we should behold ourselves as evenly balanced between innocence and guilt, and see the entire world similarly…. “if he performs one good deed, behold, he will overbalance himself and the whole world to the side of virtue, and bring about his own and their salvation and escape..." Every time we choose the good, we tip the scales, we move into the realm of good, we face the right direction. And we will receive help to keep going there. As the Sages say, “The way in which a person wishes to go, they are led.”

Once a year, we read these words “Choose Life”. But we should really hear them every day, every hour and every moment.

Serving God with "You yourself"

An age-old question on the Cain and Abel story is: why does God accept Abel's offering and reject Cain's?

The Hasidic Master, Rabbi Judah Leib Alter of Gur, known as the Sefat Emet, suggests that the answer is to be found in a close reading of two phrases from the story (Gen 4:3-5):

3. And in process of time (literally: at the end of days) it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground as an offering to the Lord.
4. And Abel brought, he too, of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat of it. And the Lord accepted Abel and for his offering;
5. But Cain and for his offering he did not accept.

The Sefat Emet quotes another Hasidic master, Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Przysucha, that the phrase "At the end of days" reveals to us why Cain brought an offering in the first place - it was due to the fear of his own death, which brought him to a thoughts of repentance and a desire to cover his bases. However, Abel brought "he too" (literally "himself too"), meaning while he was still alive, in life.

In other words, elaborates the Sefat Emet, Cain did not offer with his full heart and soul, he was merely afraid of his death, while Abel brought the fullness of his own being to the sacrifice; and that is the key in sacrificing to God, that one intends to use it as a way to become closer to God. To serve God with one's entire existence, not a behavioral gesture stemming from other motivations.

That is, in fact, the point of the all of the commandments. They are empty if not joined with the intention of deveykut, cleaving to God.

This reminded me of the book of Iyov/Job). In the first verses, Job is described as a righteous man and God Himself describes him as "blameless" to Satan. In the book, Job indeed rejects his friends' attempts to attach blame to him.

And yet - at the risk of joining Job's friends - I have to say that the explanation of the Sefat Emet made me think of the book of Job, and puts Job in the role of Cain.

From the outset, we hear that Job would always make sure to sacrifice, in case his sons had sinned while feasting. To me, that sounds like piety out of fear, out of covering his bases - and not out of fullness of connection to God. I feel as if the suffering God made him go through, along with the vision of the whirlwind at the end, were all designed to force him to bring "himself too", to move from being a meticulous saint who immediately checks to see if he has sinned in the minutest place but without actually serving God, to someone who by the end has been cracked wide open, discovered his own darkest places, and in that way can come to admit that he never really knew God before :

I have heard of you by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees you (Job 42:5)

The word for knowledge, daat, appears over eighty times in the book of Job. Jewish daat is not just in the mind - we need to know things intimately, with our entire selves, which is why the biblical Hebrew verb for conducting sexual relationships is leyda, the same verb as for to know.

We need to know G-d not through habitual actions covering ourselves in case we sinned, but with our heart cracked open and our full, flawed being.


> With thanks to my teacher Dr Elie Holtzer for his marvelous classes on Sefat Emet.

Hallelujah

I was in Edinburgh watching a gospel choir from South Africa singing songs of freedom, with colorful costumes, soaring voices, dancing and much gusto.

The final song they sang, though, was Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. While this is not my favourite of songs, the fact that they were singing a song by a Jew and through it were intending to praise God moved me; and I was even more moved when the entire audience rose to their feet and sang in unison "Hallelujah" with incredible joy and vitality. 

And it suddenly struck me that every time someone says the English word Hallelujah, since fortunately in this case the annoying J that creeps in in English versions of Hebrew words is not pronounced, they are literally saying the Hebrew words הללויה or הללו יה, Hallelu Yah, praise God.

Meaning that, without ignoring negative things this religion has wrought such as the Crusades and anti-semitism, one good thing Christianity has certainly done is brought millions of mouths down the ages to say the words "Praise God" in Hebrew, and that goes on until today.

And each time a mouth does that, surely that is a bolt of good energy in this troubled world?
Perhaps it even creates an angel?

Sing Hallelujah
Sing it!

Angry at Esther - God's Defender

I was discussing Megillat Esther with someone who expressed strong negative feelings that surprised me.

This person, a religious Jew who grew up in a rather different environment, every year becomes upset when he listens to the book of Esther being read, because there is no mention of God's name. He feels indignant, offended by the fact that Esther and Mordechai did not pray or give thanks to God for the miracles vouchsafed to them.

"The Torah makes it clear that it is always about God. We are to praise God and worship God," he protested. "What on earth is this?!?" He even suggested that we were punished with (longer) exile due to this egregious omission on the part of Esther and Mordechai. 

I found his defense of God moving, but of course I had my explanations at the ready. It's impossible that Esther and Mordechai omitted mention of God by accident, or due to any beliefs that the miracle of Purim came about accidentally/through human agency only. And the fact that the rabbis include the megillah and made Purim into a significant festival obviously validates Esther and Mordechai as people of faith.

But my conversational partner remained unconvinced and angry. This was the first time I had ever had such a conversation, and I must confess it came as quite a surprise. What I appreciated about it though was the absolute incomprehension of how you could have a religious text without God in it - no matter what the reason. 

I think since I've grown up with Esther for my entire life, I've always accepted the explanation that the book represents God's working in hidden ways. I find meaning in that message. Yet why should we accept that so easily - why indeed should there be a scroll in which God's name does not appear at all?

Yes, let us question that, let us be indignant for God's honour. Perhaps every year God awaits our zealousness for the divine name, to return it to centre stage. And perhaps every year, God sighs and shrugs upon seeing how facilely we accept the hiding of the divine. All of us, that is, except for my friend, who saves the day. Hmm.

The Essence of the Megillah - Achashverosh?!

There is an interesting Mishnah that says:

Mishnah Megillah 2:3: …From where does one read the megillah and fulfill the obligation? R’ Meir says, Read all of it. R’ Judah says, from “There was a certain Jew” (2:5). R’ Yossi says, from “After these things” (3:1).

This is rather odd. How could we start reading the megillah from anywhere but the beginning, and understand its plot? What is the meaning of "fulfilling the obligation" from points other than at the beginning?


The gemara adds a fourth position, and an explanation:

B. Talmud Megillah 19a: "R' Simeon bar Yohai says, from “On that night" (6:1). R’Yohanan says, All derive their interpretation from the same verse: “Then Esther the queen, the daughter of Abihail and of Mordecai the Jew, wrote down all the acts of power ['kol tokef,' or all the power or essence]" (9:29). For those who say read the entire Megillah, the essence is Ahasuerus. For those who say read from “There was a certain Jew” the essence is Mordecai. For those who say read from "After these things," the essence is Haman. For those who say read from "On that night," the essence is the miracle of Purim.'"

So the question is what the essence of the megillah?
I took a vote amongst a group of Jewish friends, and none of them voted that the essence of the megillah is Achashverosh. And yet that is how we pasken, as Rabbi Meir - that you have to start from the very beginning.

So how is the essence of the megillah Achashverosh? I think this is one of those questions which is stronger than the answers, but here are some possibilities:

My cousin's husband, Rabbi Da'vid Sperling, had the folllowing insight while discussing this question at the Purim seuda, 5780: Those who think the essence of the megillah is Mordechai (or indeed the Purim miracle) see God's hand behind the good things that occur to us. That is one level. A higher level is to see God's hand behind the evil things that happen to us - represented here by Haman. But the highest level of all, the essence of life, is to see God behind events that do not seem to have anything to do with us at all - in this case Achashverosh, his parties and his problems with his queen. At the highest level, God is orchestrating everything, and everything affects everything else. This is why the essence of the megillah is Achashverosh.


Another answer: while doing a bibliodrama on Esther Chapter 1 with the women's shiur of Bet Yosef, Jerusalem. Miriam Pomeranz noted that this king showed much flexibility, throughout the development of events, and managed to hold on to his position till the end. That made me think about the profound truth of this statement: while everyone else is either elevated (Mordechai. Esther, the Jews) or brought low/eliminated (Vashti, Haman, his sons, his wife), Achashverosh remains in the same basic position througout. That is no small thing.

We know that Achashverosh is compared in the megillah symbolically to the King of Kings, God. So a lesson that emerges from this is: when everything in the world is disrupted, and some are brought low while others suddenly find themselves unexpectedly powerful - and this is inevitably the case in the bigger picture, no one remains on top forever - God alone remains on an even keel - always God, always king.

And a final thought, relating to the human Achashverosh, is that unlike Haman who is cold, ruthless, angry to the point of becoming completely unhinged, Achashverosh always remains very human. He is drunk, he is angry and humiliated, but he also has a soft heart when it comes to Esther and wants to give to her and love her. Therefore, though he agrees to Haman's desire to kill the Jews, he is ultimately not our enemy, even if he is a bit morally spineless. Having a soft heart is a praiseworthy thing in Jewish thought (apart from when going to war). So this too might be a reason why we must begin with Achashverosh. And this humanness might be also why God can use him as his emissary שליח for his divine plan - why he merits to have that happen, despite all of his flaws.


Along these lines, this year, I wrote this piece [1]:

Well my name’s Achashverosh, yes you like to put me down

But in Megillat Esther it is I who bestow the crown,

My hands are God’s hands, my eyes God’s eyes,

My self the throne of glory, all thinly disguised.

Can YOU call yourself the vessel of the divine?

Or do you see with small brains, drawing a thick line

between finite and infinite, human and transcendent

never realizing it’s all interdependant

Throughout the megilla, my face is a mask

And G-d looks through it as I do His task,

Fool I might be, but my soft heart’s circumcised,

While Haman, clever, ruthless – is, I believe, demised.

He’s pushing up the daisies, he's completely expired

He’s ceased to be, he’s definitely retired

He's a stiff, kicked the bucket! Admit it, come on!

He’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil!! THIS IS AN EX-HAMAN!


[1] The idea of our eyes being as God's eyes in this world comes from Recanati's interpretation of the verse "an eye for an eye", which I heard quoted by Yitzhak Attias. The final lines of the verse are a reference to the Monty Python dead parrot sketch. I find it amusing to imagine Achashverosh pining for the fjords.