The Rainbow in the Clouds

 

“My rainbow I have placed in the cloud, and it shall be for a sign of a covenant between Myself and the earth.”  - Genesis 9:13

“The rainbow is the symbol of a world safe for diversity - many colours, one light.” - Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks.

This week’s Parasha, “Noach,” focuses on The Flood which G-d brings upon humanity for its pernicious conduct, His decision to salvage Noach drives Him to enter a covenant with him and all living creatures culminating with the promise to never again destroy the world by water. This act, suggests Lord Rabbi Sacks, is when “morality was born.”

The sign of the Noachide Covenant, as the verse above mentions, is the “Rainbow in the Cloud." 

The rainbow, as many of us know, is not the result of any wonderous miracle but rather a natural phenomenon with a simple scientific explanation. Science tells us that a rainbow is the result of the burst of the sun rays against the raindrops.                                             

However, in this Parashah, the choice of the image of the rainbow carries a deep symbolic moral and theological meaning and has been the topic of interpretation by many of our Jewish sages.

Rash”i, for instance, explains that the rainbow is a reminder of Divine Mercy. Whenever the world’s sins might justify destruction, G-d “sees the bow” and remembers His promise not to destroy humanity.

Ramba”n (Nachmanides) notes that the bow, symbolizing G-d’s weapon, points upward, curving away from the earth.

Midrash Rabba (Beresheet Rabbah 35:3), likewise, interprets the rainbow as a bow of Peace. Just as the warrior hangs up his weapon, G-d has “hung” His bow in the sky.” It serves as a gesture of reconciliation.

The Talmud, in Chagigah 16a, proposes that seeing the rainbow is a serious spiritual moment where one is expected to recite the following blessing, “Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, King of the universe who remembers the covenant, and is faithful to His covenant, and keeps His promise.”

The covenant of the rainbow, as mentioned above, is not limited to the Jewish People but extends to “every living creature.” Its universality is what prompts Lord Rabbi Sacks to focus his beautiful interpretation on the symbolism embedded in the rainbow's many colours. 

For Sacks, the rainbow's spectrum of colours symbolizes unity in diversity. Each colour, he notes, is distinct, yet together, they form one congenial whole. Just as the colours remain distinct yet form one harmonious arc, humanity too is meant to preserve difference within unity.

May the light of the Noachide rainbow, the sign of the covenant that celebrates moral responsibility and human diversity continue to shine upon us and be a constant reminder that even after the storm and after judgement, there is Hope, Renewal and a prospect for Peace.

Shabbat Shalom, fellow Jews and every blessing to all

The Flame of the Ever-Turning Sword

 

“And He drove out the man; and He placed at the east of the garden of Eden the cherubim, and the flame of the ever-turning sword, to guard the way to the tree of life.” - Bresheet (Genesis) 3:24.

Several years ago, I was invited for dinner by a childhood friend whom I had not seen in  many years. She was living with her partner, David ( an alias) who had been a helicopter pilot during his military service in the IDF.

Since it was my first visit to their home, I did what I generally do each time I visit new places, I looked at the library. One of the books caught my attention. It was a thin book and bore the titular name of this article.”Whose book is it?” I asked. “Mine,” replied the partner. “Can I look at it?” Of course came the swift response. I took it off the shelf. The cover displayed his helicopter squadron, all tall, handsome young men. I was familiar with this verse from the story of the Garden of Eden verse but was wondering why it was chosen as the title. After leafing through the pages of the book, I turned to him “And why is it named that way?” I continued to pry. His answer came as a surprise. “I don’t know,” he said with a blank expression. “It is a very powerful name that bears a deep meaning and sends a strong message,” I persisted “ and it comes from the book of Bresheet.” His answer hit me like a bolt from the blue “No wonder I do not know that,” confessed the partner, “we were not taught Tana”ch in my kibbutz.”

Trying to hide my disappointment which was mingled with a dose of dismay at his ignorance of our Jewish heritage, I explained the meaning of the name and its context. “Ah,” he said with his eyes wide open while a big smile was spreading over face, “You mean that this is the Jewish version of the Sword of Damocles."

Those of you who are familiar with the concept are probably aware that the term “Sword of Damocles" is derived from Greek mythology where Damocles envied the lifestyle of Dionysius who offered him a chance to experience the pleasures of kingship and placed him on the royal throne. The latter found himself seated beneath a naked sword suspended by a single thread of horsehair. The phrase refers to a threatening state which implies imminent danger or doom, often experienced by those in positions of power, and symbolizes the constant anxiety and peril associated with their status.

“Not at all,” came my swift response. 

Since it was not the first time that I heard that comparison, I would like to take the opportunity and point out the differences between the Biblical narrative and Cicero's philosophical parable. Though both involve a sword as a symbol of deterrence and warning, they represent two different worldviews, one Hellenistic, the other Jewish. The Sword of Damocles which points downward warns that earthly power and privilege are perilous. Hocherev Hamithapechet, the turning sword at the entrance to the Garden of Eden points upwards and suggests that divine power and eternal life are beyond human reach.

I recalled that story, as I was reading this week’s Parashah, “Bresheet,” which tells the story of the Creation and the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden following their disobeying G-d and eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The sword, which G-d placed over the eastern entrance to the Garden, served as an impassable, living barrier to prevent humanity from re-entering the Garden and eating from the Tree of LIfe granting humans immortality.

Rash”i explains that G-d was concerned that humans would eat from the Tree of Life, they “would live forever and thus the sinner would be immortal” and the world would forever remain corrupted by sin and trapped in imperfection..

Rabbi Sacks also addresses the symbolism in setting up the “turning sword.” He asserts that the sword, in the Bresheet narrative, is not merely a physical fence but also serves as a spiritual symbol. It represents the boundaries between G-d and Man, between what Man is allowed to do and that which is beyond his reach. After the expulsion, suggests Sacks, humanity lost its primal innocence and the chance of living eternal life devoid of moral responsibility. The sword, notes Sacks, is not merely a tool of destruction, it is also one to bring about justice. The turning sword, he concludes, stands for the price one has to pay for the freedom of choice. 

Whichever way one wishes to interpret the notion of the “Flame of the Turning Sword,” it is clear that it acted both as a force of warning and deterrence as well as a reminder to Man’s limitation. That, I believe, was the guiding principle that dictated the decision to name the book about David’s helicopter squadron. Just like the “turning sword,” it serves as a constant reminder of the dangers that lurk at those who fail to follow the universal Code of Ethics given to Am Yisrael, in particular and humanity, in general, by G-d.

הסתר פנים - הסתרת פני ה'

 

ואסתר פני מכל הרעה אשר עשו" - דברים לא, יז" 

הפסוק הנ"ל לקוח מפרשת השבוע "וילך", אחת הפרשות האחרונות בתורה והקצרה ביותר. המונח "הסתר פנים", אותו מזכיר הפסוק, הוא בעל חשיבות עליונה בפילוסופיה הדתית היהודית. הוא מתאר זמנים שבהם ה' מסיר את נוכחותו הנראית לעין והגנתו, ומאפשר לסבל, גלות או טרגדיה לפקוד את העם היהודי 

רבים מוצאים פסוק זה בעייתי מסיבות תאולוגיות וקיומיות כאחד. לדעתי, הוא מאתגר אמונות מרכזיות בצדק, בהשגחתו, ברחמיו ובנאמנותו של ה’ לברית. הוא מרמז, כך אולי נראה, שכאשר ה' מסתיר את פניו בתגובה לחטאי ישראל, אז טרגדיות הן עונש. כצאצאית לדורות של יהודים שסבלו מרדיפות, טבח וגירוש (שראשיתו באינקוויזיציה הספרדית ובגירוש 1492), ופוגרומים במזרח אירופה, המחשבה על כך שאלו הם תוצאה של "הסתר פנים" בעקבות חטאיהם, מטרידה. יתר על כן, בהיותי בת, "דור שני", לשואה, אשר ראתה בעגמומיות את השפעותיה על הוריה, אני מתקשה להבין את ההשלכות הללו. האם נוכל לראות את הזוועות הללו שבהן נשמות תמימות, כמו ארבעת בני דודיי הצעירים ורבים אחרים, הם פשוט כתוצאה של "הסתתרות" אלוהית 

היעדרות אלוהית, כפי שהפסוק הנ"ל עשוי לרמוז, אילצה הוגים יהודים, לאורך הדורות, להתמודד עם .תפיסתם אותה 

התלמוד (חגיגה ה ע"ב) מפרש את "הסתר פנים" כמצב שבו נראה כי אלוהים נעדר מצרות ישראל, אך עדיין סובל איתם, "גם אם אסתיר פני, אדבר בחלומות". במילים אחרות, נסיגתו של אלוהים לעולם אינה מוחלטת; נותרה תקשורת אלוהית מסוימת 

למרות שנראה שרש"י מציע שהמונח מרמז  כי נראה שאלוהים מסיר את הגנתו, ומשאיר את עם ישראל פגיע לאויביו, הוא מקל על חומרתה. הוא מאמין שזו אינה נטישה. לדבריו, אלוהים עדיין נוכח, אך מוסתר. מטרת הצרות הפוקדות את עמנו היא להביא תשובה 

חוקר אחר מימי הביניים, הרמב"ן, רואה את הסתר פנים כמסמך לגלות ממושכת (דברים כח, ס"ד-ס"ה). סבלו של ישראל, הוא מאמין, הוא בסך הכל הסתרה זמנית המשמרת את הבטחתו .הבריתית לעתיד 

חוקרים מודרניים מוקדמים, כמו רבי מנחם נחום מצ'רנוביל (מאור עינים, 1730-1797), מציעים פרשנות מיסטית יותר. רבי נחום מלמד שה' נמצא בתוך ההסתרה. האתגר של ההיסטוריה היהודית, הוא מציין, הוא "לראות" את ה' גם כשהוא נראה נעדר 

ההשקפה החסידית, כפי שהביעה אותה רבי נחמן מברסלב (1772-1811), נינו של הבעל שם טוב, מייסד החסידות, מדברת על "הסתר שבתוך הסתר". רבי נחמן מטיף שמירת אמונה בעת רדיפה וגלות היא ההישג הרוחני הגבוה ביותר 

בניגוד לפרשנים קלאסיים הרואים בהסתר פנים עונש על חטאי עם ישראל, חוקרים מודרניים, ובמיוחד חוקרים שלאחר השואה, מתרחקים מהרעיון שטרגדיות הן עונשים. הם מעבירים את המוקד לאלוהים, ומאפשרים חירות אנושית, גם כאשר היא מובילה לרשע נורא בספרו, "אמונה לאחר השואה", טוען הרב אליעזר ברקוביץ כי "הסתר פנים" הוא דרכו של אלוהים לשמור על הרצון החופשי האנושי. השואה, הוא מאמין, אינה גמול אלוהי,אלא תוצאה של כך .שאלוהים מאפשר להיסטוריה להתפתח ללא התערבות ניסית 

באופן דומה, הרב יונתן זקס מציע שהמונח אינו אומר שאלוהים נטש את עם ישראל או הפר את הברית אלא, הוא טוען, משמעות הדבר היא שאלוהים כבר אינו מתערב באופן גלוי ומופלא בהיסטוריה. זקס מוסיף שלאחר עידן הנבואה והניסים הגלויים בתנ"ך, אלוהים בחר להיות נוכח .בדרכים נסתרות, באמצעות בחירה אנושית, אחריות בריתית ופעולה מוסרית 

באופן אישי, כאישה יהודייה לא שומרת מצוות שמרגישה קשר חזק עם אלוהים ומאמינה שהוא טוב, אני נוטה לקבל את דעתם של פרשנים מודרניים שלעתים קרובות מדגישים את המשמעות הקיומית של "הסתר פנים", אשר בוחנת את האמונה כאשר ידו המנחה של אלוהים נראית נסתרת. במקום הוכחה לנטישתו של אלוהים, אני רואה את המונח כחלק פרדוקסלי מהברית שנכרתה עם אבותינו, .שבה אפילו בסתר, אלוהים נשאר נוכח, ועדיין מאשר את מערכת היחסים המתמשכת שלו עם עמו 

כתיבה וחתימה טובה לאחי היהודים ולעם ישראל, ושנה טובה לכולם

Hester Panim - The Concealment of G-d’s Face

 

            “And I will hide my face because of all the evil they have committed” -       Deuteronomy 31:17 

The above verse is taken from this week’s parashah, “Vayelech,” one of the last parashot of the Torah and the shortest one. The term “hester panim” (hiding of the face), which the verse mentions, is paramount in Jewish religious philosophy. It describes times when G-d withdraws His visible presence and protection, allowing suffering, exile, or tragedy to befall the Jewish People.

Many find this verse problematic for both theological and existential reasons.  In my view, it challenges core beliefs in G-d’s justice, providence, mercy and covenantal faithfulness. It implies, so it may seem, that G-d hides His face in response to Yisrael’s sins, then tragedies are punishment.

As an offspring of generations of Jews who suffered persecution, slaughter and banishment (tracing back to the Spanish Inquisition and the 1492 Expulsion), and pogroms in Eastern Europe, the thought of these being the result of “hester panim” following their sins, is unsettling. Moreover, being a daughter, a “second generation,” to the Shoah, who glumly witnessed its effects on her parents, I find it hard to grasp such implications. Can we view those horrors where innocent souls, such as my four young cousins and many more, as simply the result of Divine “hiding?”

Divine absence, as the above verse may suggest, forced Jewish thinkers, over the ages, to grapple with their perception of it.  

The Talmud (Chagigah 5b) interprets hester panim as a state when G-d seems absent from Yisrael’s troubles, yet still suffers with them, “Even though I hide my face, I speak through dreams.” In other words, G-d’s withdrawal is never total; some divine communication remains.

Though it might seem that Rash”i suggests that the term implies that G-d will appear to withdraw his protection, leaving Am Yisrael vulnerable to its enemies, he mitigates its gravity. He believes that it is not abandonment. According to him, G-d is still present, but hidden. The purpose of the troubles that befall our People is to bring teshuvah (repentance).

Another Medieval scholar, Ramba”n sees hester panim as accounting for prolonged exile (Deuteronomy 28:64-65). Yisrael’s suffering, he believes, is merely a temporary concealment that preserves His covenantal promise for the future

Early modern scholars, like Rabbi Menachem Nachum of Chernobyl (Me’or Einayim, 1730-1797),  offer a more mystical interpretation. Rabbi Nachum teaches that G-d is within the concealment. The challenge of Jewish history, he notes, is to “see” G-d even when He seems absent.

The Hasidic view, as expressed by Rabbe Nachman of Breslov (1772-1811), a great-grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism, speaks of “hester she-betoch hester” (a concealment within a concealment). Rabbe Nachman preaches that keeping faith at times of persecution and exile is the highest spiritual achievement. 

Unlike classical commentators who see hester panim as punishment for Am Yisrael’s transgressions, modern scholars, particularly post-Shoah ones, move away from the notion that tragedies are punishments. They shift the focus to G-d, allowing human freedom, even when it leads to horrific evil.

In his book, Faith After the Holocaust, Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits argues that hester panim is G-d’s way of safeguarding human free will. The Shoah, he believes, is not Divine retribution but the consequence of G-d allowing history to unfold without miraculous intervention. 

Similarly, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks suggests that the term does not mean that G-d has abandoned Am Yisrael or broken the covenant. Rather, he asserts, it means that G-d is no longer visibly and miraculously intervening in history. Sacks further suggests that after the biblical era of prophecy and open miracles, G-d chose to be present in hidden ways, through human choice, covenantal responsibility and moral action.

Personally, as a non observant Jewish woman that feels a strong bond with G-d and who believes that He is good, I lean towards accepting the view of modern interpreters who often stress the existential meaning of hester panim, which tests faith when G-d’s guiding hand seems hidden. Rather than proof of G-d’s abandonment, I see the term as a paradoxical part of the Covenant entered with our forefathers, where even in covertness, G-d remains present, still affirming His ongoing relationship with His People.

Ktivah V’Chatima tova to my fellow Jews and Am Yisrael, and a good year to all.