Psalm 13

How long will You hide Your face from me? (13:2)

What happens when God hides God’s face from the individual or from the world? Deuteronomy 31:17 suggests that when God’s face is hidden, we lose God’s protection from the evils and troubles that surround us in the world. When God’s face is hidden, we are vulnerable. In a contrasting image, the Priestly blessing, Birkat Kohanim, promises that God’s face will “shine upon us and be gracious to us” and God will “Lift up God’s face to us and grant us Shalom, peace, wholeness.” (Numbers 6:25-26). The Priestly blessing suggests that when God’s face is given to us, we have protection.

There are so many different ways that we can be killed or injured … If I were to start thinking about all of the random ways that I could get hurt or killed while driving a car down the highway I would become paralyzed and unable to drive. If I were to start thinking about how easy it would be for a driver to become distracted and drift over a couple feet onto the shoulder of Michigan street when I am walking home from shul, I would be afraid to walk. At any given moment a tree could fall down, a piece of concrete could fall from a bridge, a gas line could leak and explode, or a heretofore unknown flaw in my biological or genetic makeup could reach a critical point and strike me with a fatal condition.

I live my life consciously unaware of all of these things, certain that I will be protected from them (until I am not). I am grateful for my ability to be naive and unaware and see God’s face surrounding me and protecting me.

Psalm 12

“… the pious are no more; the faithful have vanished …” (12:2)

Taking a stand on an issue is not always a pleasant experience, especially when social networks make everything that we say or do liable to become the subject of public scrutiny. Anonymous critics harshly pick at those whose positions are based on moral principles. When we take a stand which upholds traditional religious values, we may find ourselves at odds with contemporary society’s values. It is an uncomfortable place to stand, and we might feel alone and isolated.

But there are those, such as members of Topeka’s Westboro Baptist Church, who claim to base themselves on religious principles yet behave atrociously, demonstrating against churches and military funerals and others with signs proclaiming “God hates fags.” While I believe with all my heart that one can be in a same sex relationship consistent with Torah principles, I understand and respect those whose religious teachings and understanding of Leviticus hold differently. I have no tolerance, however, for those who claim piety but treat gay and lesbian couples (and those who support such unions) with open hatred.

Authentic piety demands more than adherence to a code of belief. It asks us to adhere to a code of behavior based on the principle of “love your neighbor” that recognizes the essential humanity of every person. It asks us to be humble and faithful enough to realize that as human beings, we too have flaws and inconsistencies; that we too fail at times, and that we are not infallible. When we take a position on an issue, we ought to also have the humility to realize that those who disagree with us may also be taking a principled position.

Psalm 11

Rabbi Jack Moline, in my opinion one of North America’s wisest rabbis, once shared that when he writes a sermon or a d’var Torah, his first intended audience is himself, so that when he listens to himself delivering it, he’ll learn something that he needs to learn. If anyone else listens and learns from it as well, so much the better.

Well, having completed almost three months of Psalm blogging, that’s about how I’m feeling. A systematic consideration of Psalms is helping me think through some issues that come before me, but I’m wondering how many others find it useful. A blog is a conversation – I invite you to share your thoughts on what I write each week. If you are so inclined, please go to embodiedtorah.wordpress.com and leave me a note or a reflection on the week’s Psalm.

“When the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous man do?” (11:3)

We live our lives based on a set of core assumption and beliefs about the world. Most of the time we don’t question or explore those basic principles, and in fact we might not even know what they are. Now and then, however, something happens to make us notice one of our foundational beliefs and either reject it, modify it, or conform to it.

Our core belief might be that if I treat other people right, I will always be treated well. This principle is shaken when we find ourself being mistreated for no apparent reason, perhaps by people we don’t even know! We might conclude that we should reject the core belief, and from that point on not care about how we treat others. Preferably, we will decide to modify the core belief and conclude that regardless of how others treat me, I am going to treat people well.

Another core belief might be that Judaism directs me to care for the environment and all who live in it, both human and animal. This principle is tested when I learn more about food production and the damage done to the environment by pesticides and the raising of animals for food. I might commit myself to conform to my principle and change my diet; or I might decide that other principles of Jewish eating allow me to lesson my commitment to this core value as long as I hold onto other principles of kashrut.

In order to live a life of righteousness, it is important to examine, preserve, maintain and live by one’s foundational principles.

Psalm 10

“Why, Adonai, do you stand far away?” (10:1)

When I feel frightened and empty inside, sometimes I can identify the cause and address it. Perhaps I made a mistake and caused hurt feelings, so someone is angry with me. Perhaps I have a list of things that need to be done and just don’t know how I am going to finish everything. Perhaps there is something going on with one or more of my children – problems at school, tension at home, and that is causing the entire family to be distant and unhappy. Sometimes, though, for no identifiable reason I feel this tremendous disconnect between myself and everything else around me, as if I am floating off in space somewhere or living in a parallel universe only vaguely connected with the people around me.

Is it God who is standing far away? It’s easy to blame God and say ‘why have you moved so far away?’ It’s easy to see myself at the center of the universe, as if all existence consists only of that which takes place inside my head.

It’s a matter of perspective. I could just as easily say that God is not standing far from me; rather, I am standing far away from God! The problem is that when I look at the universe from the perspective of my head, the universe is severely distorted, like a Mercator projection of a map of the world. A goal of a religious life ought to be to see the world in a more expansive way – not from the limited perspective of a single human being or group of people, but from the widest possible lens of humanity.

Thus we can break the illusion of God standing far from me or me standing far from God.

Psalm 9

“Adonai is a haven for the oppressed, a haven in times of trouble.” (9:10)

Sometimes you’re just having one of those days on which problems accumulate. Not necessarily huge problems, but each one is like a tiny brush fire that has to be put out immediately, before it grows, spawning the leaping flames of a giant problem. It’s one of those days when you feel like the only sane person in a world of unstable, psychotic, pyromaniacs playing with matches.

In the world of electronic communication, why do people ‘reply all’ when what is needed is a simple response to the sender? Why do people respond to a carefully worded email with questions and objections based on reading only the subject line and the first sentence, rather than first reading the entire note?

Oppression is a time like this when you’re feeling the pressure of a world full of the noise and static of a dozen annoyances grabbing for your attention like needy toddlers. Oppression is when you come home exhausted after a day of busyness with no breaks, with no sense that you’ve accomplished anything useful, lasting, or meaningful.

The Psalmist asserts that you can find a haven from oppression. The haven can be your home, but only if you put up on invisible force field around your home that admits you, but excludes the troubles. The Mezuzah on the door is the force field – the reminder that this home is a place in which God’s presence lives. Stop at the doorstep – take a breath of redemption, and breath out the oppression. Put a smile on your face, and walk through the door. Welcome to the haven from oppression! Welcome to God’s home!