BERESHIT 5779
HUMANITY'S FIRST MORAL LESSON
October 4, 2016
25 Tishri 5779
Let's start at the very beginning… A very good place to start… ("Do Re Mi" from The Sound of Music)
This Shabbat, we, once again, start at the very beginning as we return to the weekly Torah cycle with Genesis' account of the six days of creation. Whether or not this account is consistent with contemporary scientific theory, there is great power in the description of a perfect natural world created by one powerful Deity.
As we move from Day One to Day Six, the world takes shape through God's command. It's by His word that the waters are rolled back to expose dry land, that the sun, moon and stars are placed in the sky, that marine life comes into being, that vegetation sprouts forth from the ground, and all forms of animal life are placed in this amazing new world. Then a shift: "And God said let us make man in our image and in our likeness …" (Genesis 1: 26). For the only time in the creation process, He shares His intended next step, but with whom?
A Midrash speculates that God revealed His intent to the Angels who warned that this new being, endowed with intelligence and freedom of choice, threatened to mar, deface and, possibly, ruin the beautiful world God had so carefully created during the past six days. These warnings are ignored; Adam and Eve come into being and are placed in the Garden of Eden. There they were free to enjoy its beauty and be nourished by the wonderful fruits, except those from the tree in the Garden's center.
We know the story; the serpent tempts Eve, she bites into the forbidden fruit and then shares it with Adam. When God confronts them, Adam deflects responsibility to Eve, and she, upon the serpent. God rejects their "finger pointing" and banishes them from the Garden.
The message was clear. We are endowed with the capacity to make moral decisions, and we are responsible for their consequences. Thus, humanity's first moral decision is followed by the all too human failing of deflecting responsibility and trying to shift blame upon others.
Yom Kippur calls us to examine responsibility for our deeds and actions. It grants us no leeway to foist blame upon others. Teshuvah (repentance) is a demanding spiritual exercise, and we always hope that we have successfully addressed and overcome the tendency to hold others responsible for our negative behavior.
Adam and Eve's "defense" of their (and humanity's) first sin is a good place to strengthen our resolve to demonstrate the courage to take responsibility for our behavior and to face up to our actions. It's a challenge placed before every human being regardless of socioeconomic status, religion, ethnic origin or nationality. The message God thus imparted to Adam and Eve, at the very beginning of the human sojourn on earth, has been, and continues to be, an ongoing challenge for each of us, as it was for our ancestors and will be for our descendants.
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From the holy city of Jerusalem my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach, a Shabbat have peace and blessing.
Rabbi Arnold M Goodman
SHABBAT CHOL HA'MO'ED SUCCOT 5779
THE HOLE IN THE HOLY THRONE
October 27, 2018
18 Tishri 5779
That which is crooked cannot be made straight (Ecclesiastes 1:14).*
One commentary interprets this verse as alluding to the Torah scholar who abandons the Tradition and Halacha (Jewish law) and for all purposes severs his ties to the Jewish community, indentifying himself as a Gentile. This sinner can never straighten what he has so irrevocably bent. In the eyes of God, he is beyond repentance and redemption.
A question explored in our tradition is whether teshuvah is possible if our past deeds are not reparable and that which we bent can never be straightened?
I suspect that most of us, as we reflect upon our lives, recall unfortunate decisions or wrongful acts that are now uncorrectable or irremediable. Is teshuvah possible when we are burdened by such decisions or acts?
This question is explored in rabbinic sources in the ongoing dialogue between the renegade Rabbi Elisha ben Abuyah, who abandoned his faith in favor of a Hellenist lifestyle and was excommunicated by his former colleagues, and Rabbi Meir, the one student who remained loyal to him and continually urged him to repent.
Elisha, however, insisted that what he had bent could never be straightened; He cited the incident that occurred as he was riding on his horse on a Shabbat that was also Yom Kippur, and heard a heavenly voice calling all to repent, except for Elisha ben Abuyah.
Rabbi Meir arrives at Elisha's bedside when he was clearly close to death. He urged him to repent, for God accepts teshuvah until the very last moment of life. Elisha does not respond but as he breathed his last, tears streamed down his cheeks. Rabbi Meir insisted that these tears were his repentance.
Assuming this to be true, would the repentance of this terrible sinner be acceptable to God? Would it reach the Divine ear? Consider the following Midrash (chapter five in the Midrash on the Book of Ruth).
Menashe, King of Judah, (687-642 BCE) was the epitome of the evil monarch. He had idols placed in the Holy Temple and urged his people to pray to them. When faced with a crisis in his own life, he turned to the idols but found no spiritual relief. He then recalled that his saintly father, King Hezekiah, when faced with his own crises turned to God and recited traditional prayers from the Book of Psalms. In desperation, Menashe followed suit.
The Midrash then recounts the revolution in heaven as the Angels complained to God that the prayers of such a despicable sinner should not be allowed to enter heaven. They then locked the gates of repentance, thereby preventing Menashe's prayer from reaching God. In response, the Almighty then carved a hole under the seat of his holy throne, through which the prayers of even the most sinful could reach His ear.
I choose to speculate that even if Elisha's tears were rejected by the Angels, it's conceivable that even one tear no larger than a needle did slip through the hole in the throne to enter the Divine ear.
On Yom Kippur, through our repentance, we have hopefully fixed that which is fixable. It's also the day to weep for the burden of our lost opportunities; for our many spiritual failures, for what could have been, but never came into being; for all the pieces in our lives that can never be fixed.
There is also the faith that a tear, no larger than a needle, that comes from the depths of our hearts, will somehow slip through that hole in the Throne of Glory and find its way to God who will treasure it and enable us to find the peace we seek and need. It's a comforting thought.
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From the holy city of Jerusalem, my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach, a Shabbat of peace and of blessing, and a Chag Sameach, a joyous celebration of Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah.
Rabbi Arnold M. Goodman
*Ecclesiastes is read in synagogue during the festival of Sukkot
