Psalm 122

 

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; “May those who love you be in tranquility. (122:6)

It would be difficult to overstate the importance of Jerusalem to Judaism, from the shaping of the Hebrew Bible and Jewish practice, the city is to Jewish history what Rome was to the Romans or what Babylon was to the Babylonians. Except while those ancient empires are no more, the Jewish civilization that grew up around Jerusalem thrives. I think of Jerusalem as the power source for my spiritual battery. Judaism has been powered either by the fact or by the memory of Jerusalem its Capitol city for over 3000 years, and both Judaism and Islam preserve traditions that connect Jerusalem with the site of Abraham’s binding of his son Isaac (or Ishmael, in the Moslem tradition), perhaps 3800 years ago.

The ancient etymology of the name ‘Jerusalem’ is made up of the two words “city of” and “Shalom,” peace. A vital Jerusalem is necessary for the spiritual life of Israel. A Jew who lives connected to Jewish texts and traditions cannot live in tranquility when our most sacred city is not a peace.

In ancient Jewish maps of the world, Jerusalem is in the center. In Jewish maps of the spiritual life, Jerusalem is the center. May we see the day when Isaiah’s vision comes to pass, that “… My House shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples,” and the house of worship on the Temple Mount will be a place where people of all faiths can pray in peace together.

Psalm 121

Adonai will guard your going and coming now and forever. (121:8)

Travel makes us vulnerable. When we leave the security of our homes, we are at the mercy of a means of transportation which might break down, get stuck in traffic, get in an accident, or be delayed by weather. It is no wonder that the traveler prays that God will protect him from missing connecting flights, losing a passport, being robbed, or getting sick. Even the occasional traveler has been stranded overnight, has had to find a place for emergency auto repairs, or has gotten lost in a strange city.

It seems that God doesn’t so much protect us from inconveniences as much as give us the emotional stability to withstand them and the mental ingenuity to work around them. With the right frame of mind, most travel inconveniences can be seen as adventures. It is the thrill of extending the trip for an extra day, having the chance to see a new part of the city, and embracing the opportunity to focus on the journey rather than the destination.

If the destination is the only thing that matters, how many wonderful things will we miss on the journey? Traveling to Chicago to catch a plane IMG_2197to Minneapolis for my father’s funeral, I saw an amazingly beautiful sunset over Lake Michigan. The sun was a pillar of fires shooting up to the densely clouded sky, like a brightly lit path for my father’s soul on it’s journey upward. It was peaceful and calming. God was with me at that moment, calming my anxiety at the outset of a very long (and delay-plagued) trip.

In the airport, I found a quiet spot to write a tribute to my father. A close friend called. I spoke with my wife. I sent text updates of my delays to my cousin. ‘Pick me up at 11:45 pm.’ ‘Delayed until 12:30 am.’ ‘Mechanical problems … See you at 1:00 am.’ ‘Waiting for a new plane to arrive.’ ‘On the plane ready to take off, scheduled to arrive at 2:00 am!’ I never felt alone or abandoned or panicked because I had complete confidence that one way or another, I would arrive in Minneapolis in time for the funeral.

The journey home had a delay as well, giving me the chance to spend more time with my mother and sisters as well as catch up with some cousins that I had not seen for several years. The hiccups in my travels inconvenienced a number of people, to be sure. But in the end I arrived safely at every destination. Thank God.

Divre Harav – Words from the Rabbi, December, 2015

In a recent Zohar class, I noted that the phrase “Who can tell the mighty acts of Adonai” from Psalm 106:2 is the basis for the well known Hanukkah song, Mi Y’mallel g’vurot Yisrael, written by Russian-born Menashe Ravina (1899-1968) sometime in the first half of the 20th century. It became a popular Hanukkah song in the early years of the State of Israel.

However, we should pay attention to the major theological difference between the source material and the Hanukkah song. The popular singable English version of the first verse is:

Who can retell the things that befell us?
Who can count them?
In every age, a hero or sage
Arose to our aid.

But this is a mistranslation. The first line, in passive voice, doesn’t specifically tell us who led us to victory, and the third line introduces the word ‘sage’ to rhyme with age, not found in the original Hebrew. More literally, the song begins:

Who can tell of the heroic deeds of Israel?
Who can count them?
Yes in every generation a hero arises
To save the people.

In short, the Psalmist speaks of the power of God and Ravina speaks of the power of Israel. Hutzpah’dik? Theological audacity or arrogance? Yes, but with deep roots that go back virtually to the first accounts of the story of Hanukkah. The story told in the historical book of Maccabees focuses on the fight against the Syrians led by Mattathias and his five sons. God is not absent from the book, but it is clearly primarily about the zealotry and heroism of this family and especially Judah, who became known by the appellation “Maccabee” (hammer), for his strength.

The early Rabbinic tradition wanted to move away from the Maccabean origins of Hanukkah and instead emphasize God’s salvation of Israel. Thus the major Hanukkah prayer in the Amidah contains the passage, “You took up their grievance, judged their claim, and avenged their wrong. You delivered the strong into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few, the impure into the hands of the pure, the wicked into the hands of the righteous, and the wanton into the hands of the diligent students of Your Torah.” The rabbis turned the military leaders into yeshiva bochers!

The early builders of the state of Israel face the opposite challenge, that of turning academics and trademen into farmers and soldiers. Thus their songs emphasized strength and independence. If Israel was to survive the economic, social, and military challenges of the early years, they needed to learn how to do things that Jews had not needed to do for centuries, if ever.

As we celebrate Hanukkah this month, in our songs and prayers and candle-lighting rituals we remember the miracles ancient and modern, by which God has ensured the improbable survival of the tiny but determined Jewish people and our State of Israel. We also remember the Maccabees and others who fought for our religious freedom, both here and in Israel. Hag Ha-Urim Sameah, May you experience a joyous festival of lights!

Psalm 120

I am peace; but when I speak, they are for war. (120:7)

Psalm 120 is the first of a series of 15 Psalms with the title “A song of (or for) ascent.” Mishnah Middot 2:5 suggests that the 15 steps ascending to the Temple Mount on the South side were built to correspond to the 15 Psalm, but the full implication of giving this title to this collection is unknown.

Peace is an important value in Judaism and other major religious traditions, but most have an escape clause that allows for defensive wars. Christianity is known to have pacifist denominations. Judaism is less known for this position, but there are some rabbis who find pacifism in Jewish sources.

It is a challenging position to hold, illustrated by this Psalm, because when the Psalmist asserts a position embracing peace at all costs, he says “they” attack. “They” might be fellow Jews who reject pacifism or “they” might be the enemy of Jews who see an opportunity to advance their position without resistance.

There are numerous adages in our American culture encouraging a non-pacifist outlook, such as:

  • The best defense is a good offense.
  • Speak softly and carry a big stick. Theodore Roosevelt.
  • Doveryai no proveryai, Trust but verify. Ronald Reagan used this aphorism, based on a Russian proverb, to defend a massive increase in military spending.

Projecting strength is connected with a willingness to attack while standing for peace is typically seen as a weakness. This is not necessarily the case. Some martial arts, such as aikido, judo, and t’ai chi emphasize defensive moves, embracing a philosophy of non-aggression and harmony.

I can also hear a hesitancy in the Psalmists words. “I am by nature peaceful,” he is saying, “but because they are war-like I have been forced to respond in kind.” Religion might attempt to cultivate softer, gentler attributes (middot) within us. There are, however, selfish people with large egos around us. Unless we cultivate middot of conviction alongside those of giving or compromising, others will take advantage of us. Not every person who speaks or acts in God’s name has fully embraced the humility that ought to go along with doing so.

The best approach is not to prejudge the other, not to assume that he or she is for war, but to put forward one’s peaceful nature and intentions whole-heartedly. At the same time, though, one ought to put forward one’s other fundamental convictions, for fairness, equality, human rights, and security. It is not peace but …. Rather, it is peace and ….

Psalm 119

I have understood more than all my teachers … (119:99)

Psalm 119 is not only the longest Psalm in the book of Psalms, but also the longest Psalm in the Hebrew Bible. It is an alphabetical acrostic, eight verses for each of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Do the math – that’s a whopping 176 verses!

These Psalm reflections are based on the practice of reading over the Psalm and finding a single verse or phrase that resonates with me. This Psalm presents difficulties because of its length. I am trying to imagine the setting of Psalm 119, who wrote it, how it was used, and why it took so many words to make his point. It is an extended essay on studying and keeping God’s laws as a path to happiness. After a while, the words and images repeat themselves and blur together. While I found a number of beautifully expressed lines, I found the Psalm as a whole to be tedious. My philosophy is that if you have something to say, you should say it clearly and concisely. Don’t use three words when one will do or 176 verses when 22 will do.

The verse I chose speaks directly to the theme of the importance of learning. On the surface, though, it does not embody the typical Jewish reverence for teachers. However, it is possible to read the verse hyper-literally as “from all of those who taught me, I gained understanding.” This may have inspired Rabbi Chanina’s teaching, “I have learned much from my teachers, more from my colleagues, and the most from my students.” (Ta’anit 7a)

If the overall message of the Psalm praises those who are always seeking ways to gain knowledge then the my reading of the verse fits well. There is an opportunity to learn from every interaction with another person. Every encounter is a chance to see the face of God.