Tag Archives: Eden

Tu b’Shevat – make us more tree

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Mishnah Rosh Hashanah begins with two different set of four dates – the first mishnah speaks of the four new years for taxation/institutional official purposes-

אַרְבָּעָה רָאשֵׁי שָׁנִים הֵם. בְּאֶחָד בְּנִיסָן רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה לַמְּלָכִים וְלָרְגָלִים. בְּאֶחָד בֶּאֱלוּל רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה לְמַעְשַׂר בְּהֵמָה. רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר וְרַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן אוֹמְרִים, בְּאֶחָד בְּתִשְׁרֵי. בְּאֶחָד בְּתִשְׁרֵי רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה לַשָּׁנִים וְלַשְּׁמִטִּין וְלַיּוֹבְלוֹת, לַנְּטִיעָה וְלַיְרָקוֹת. בְּאֶחָד בִּשְׁבָט, רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה לָאִילָן, כְּדִבְרֵי בֵית שַׁמַּאי. בֵּית הִלֵּל אוֹמְרִים, בַּחֲמִשָּׁה עָשָׂר בּוֹ:

They are four New Years: On the first of Nisan is the New Year for kings; And for (the order of) the Festivals, On the first of Elul is the New Year for animal tithes; Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Shimon say: on the first of Tishrei. On the first of Tishrei is the New Year for years, (including for counting)Sabbatical Years and Jubilee Years, for planting young trees , and for (tithing) vegetables, On the first of Shevat is the New Year for the tree in accordance with the statement of Beit Shammai. But Beit Hillel say: The New Year for trees is on the fifteenth of Shevat.

The second Mishnah tells us about the four days of judgement:

בְּאַרְבָּעָה פְרָקִים הָעוֹלָם נִדּוֹן, בְּפֶסַח עַל הַתְּבוּאָה, בַּעֲצֶרֶת עַל פֵּרוֹת הָאִילָן, בְּרֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה כָּל בָּאֵי הָעוֹלָם עוֹבְרִין לְפָנָיו כִּבְנֵי מָרוֹן, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (תהלים לג) הַיּוֹצֵר יַחַד לִבָּם, הַמֵּבִין אֶל כָּל מַעֲשֵׂיהֶם. וּבֶחָג נִדּוֹנִין עַל הַמָּיִם:

At four times of the year the world is judged: On Passover judgment is passed concerning grain; on Shavuot concerning fruits that grow on a tree; on Rosh HaShana, all creatures pass before Him like sheep [benei maron], as it is stated: “He Who fashions their hearts alike, Who considers all their deeds” (Psalms 33:15); and on the festival of Sukkot they are judged concerning water, i.e., the rainfall of the coming year.

At first sight, the connection between the two seems to be simply that the author of the Mishnah is grouping sets of four. But look a little closer and we see some quirks within the texts that draw attention – specifically I’m interested in the preponderance of trees – three of the eight special days mention them, and that in fact each time rather than mentioning trees (plural), the mishnah speaks of “tree” (singular) – even though the mishnaic word for tree – Ilan – has a regular plural.

The word for tree in bible is עץ  (eitz) whereas the rabbinic literature tends to use the word  ָאִילָן ilan”, influenced by the Aramaic, and also probably in order to distinguish more between different species of tree. 

Curiously in Biblical Hebrew, the word עץ seems to mean either ‘a’ tree (singular) or trees (plural), and when found in the plural form עצים (eitzim), the meaning is never “trees”, but “wood”.

It is likely to be a two letter root, though it may be derived from יעץ ya’atz – meaning to advise or to counsel, or the verb עצם atzam – to be strong or mighty, from which we get the noun  עצם etzem, meaning bones.  Or it could be connected to עצה meaning to bind or to attach.

What does this tell us about ancient Judaism’s view of trees?  Trees appear frequently in our texts and at critically important junctures in the narratives.. In the first story of Creation, on the third day God separated the sea from the dry land and then created the very first living things – trees.

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֗ים תַּֽדְשֵׁ֤א הָאָ֙רֶץ֙ דֶּ֗שֶׁא עֵ֚שֶׂב מַזְרִ֣יעַ זֶ֔רַע עֵ֣ץ פְּרִ֞י עֹ֤שֶׂה פְּרִי֙ לְמִינ֔וֹ אֲשֶׁ֥ר זַרְעוֹ־ב֖וֹ עַל־הָאָ֑רֶץ וַֽיְהִי־כֵֽן׃

And God said, “Let the earth sprout vegetation: seed-bearing plants, fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it.” And it was so. (Genesis 1:11-12)

In the second creation story we read וַיִּטַּ֞ע יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהִ֛ים גַּן־בְּעֵ֖דֶן מִקֶּ֑דֶם וַיָּ֣שֶׂם שָׁ֔ם אֶת־הָֽאָדָ֖ם אֲשֶׁ֥ר יָצָֽר׃

The ETERNAL God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and placed there the Human who had been fashioned.

וַיַּצְמַ֞ח יְהֹוָ֤ה אֱלֹהִים֙ מִן־הָ֣אֲדָמָ֔ה כׇּל־עֵ֛ץ נֶחְמָ֥ד לְמַרְאֶ֖ה וְט֣וֹב לְמַאֲכָ֑ל וְעֵ֤ץ הַֽחַיִּים֙ בְּת֣וֹךְ הַגָּ֔ן וְעֵ֕ץ הַדַּ֖עַת ט֥וֹב וָרָֽע׃

And from the ground the ETERNAL God caused to grow every tree that was pleasing to the sight and good for food, with the tree of life in the middle of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and bad.  (Genesis 2:8-9)

It seems as if the creation of trees and the creation of human beings are intimately connected. Each are at the pinnacle of their category of creation.

The midrash (Kohelet Rabbah 7:13) tells the following story ““When God created the first human being he took him and showed him all the trees  of the Garden of Eden and said to him, ‘See my works, how beautiful and praiseworthy they are. And everything that I created, I created it for you. Be careful not to spoil or destroy my world–for if you do, there will be nobody after you to repair it.’”

God tells Adam that the trees were created for human beings, and warns him that any damage to them will be irreparable – beautiful trees created for humanity must be cared for scrupulously. The lives – and potentially the deaths – of trees and humanity are intertwined.

This is, I think beautifully embedded in the idea of our bones being connected to the word for tree. Beyond the idea of a human skeletal frame mirroring a tree, beyond the idea of bones being strong and supportive and connected, the bone is the innermost and most enduring part of the body and so the word comes also to express the core of a person, their essence or substance or ultimately, themselves.

Louis Ginzberg in his “Legends of the Jews” – a compendium of stories and midrashim in Jewish text, tells us

The  main  creation  of  the  third  day  was  the  realm  of  plants,  the  terrestrial  plants  as  well  as  the  plants  of  Paradise. First  of  all  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  and  the  other  great trees  were  made.  In  their  pride  at  having  been  put  first, they  shot  up  high  in  the  air.  They  considered  themselves the  favoured  among  plants.    Then  God  spoke,  ”  I  hate  arrogance  and  pride,  for  I  alone  am  exalted,  and  none  beside,” and  He  created  the  iron  on  the  same  day,  the  substance  with which  trees  are  felled  down.  The  trees  began  to  weep,  and when  God  asked  the  reason  of  their  tears,  they  said :  ”  We cry  because  You have created  the  iron  to  uproot  us  therewith. All  the  while  we  had  thought  ourselves  the  highest  of the  earth,  and  now  the  iron,  our  destroyer,  has  been  called into  existence.”  God  replied :  ”  You  yourselves  will  furnish

the  axe  with  a  handle.  Without  your  assistance  the  iron will  not  be  able  to  do  aught  against  you.”  ”  (Ginzburg legends of the Jews Creation of the World 19)

Deuteronomy 20:19 speaks of behaviour in war,

כִּֽי־תָצ֣וּר אֶל־עִיר֩ יָמִ֨ים רַבִּ֜ים לְֽהִלָּחֵ֧ם עָלֶ֣יהָ לְתׇפְשָׂ֗הּ לֹֽא־תַשְׁחִ֤ית אֶת־עֵצָהּ֙ לִנְדֹּ֤חַ עָלָיו֙ גַּרְזֶ֔ן כִּ֚י מִמֶּ֣נּוּ תֹאכֵ֔ל וְאֹת֖וֹ לֹ֣א תִכְרֹ֑ת כִּ֤י הָֽאָדָם֙ עֵ֣ץ הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה לָבֹ֥א מִפָּנֶ֖יךָ בַּמָּצֽוֹר׃

“When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding the axe against them. You may eat of them, but you must not cut them down. Are trees of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city? “

While we traditionally read the last part of the verse as if it is a question, many commentators note that the literal meaning is not interrogative, but instead translates as “for a human is a tree of the field” (see for example BT Ta’anit 7a, or the comment of Ibn Ezra (ad loc) man is a tree of the field… In my opinion…The meaning is as follows: You may eat of them, but do not cut them down, for man is a tree of the field (i.e., the life of man depends on the trees of the field).

The interconnectedness of human beings and trees can be found all over our texts – from the trees in the Garden of Eden whose forbidden fruit is the catalyst to humans leaving that place, to the Proverb (3:18) that Torah is “Etz Chaim” a tree of life to all who grasp it עֵץ־חַיִּים הִיא לַמַּחֲזִיקִים בָּהּ וְתֹמְכֶיהָ מְאֻשָּׁר׃.  Trees provide shade and security in multiple narratives, most notably when Abraham sits under the oak trees of Mamre when he is visited by the angels who will announce the birth of Isaac, gopher wood  is used in the building of Noah’s ark, olive branches signpost the existence of dry land at the end of the great flood, Deborah sits under a palm tree to act as Judge. Bezalel makes the ark of the covenant from acacia wood, Aaron’s rod blossoms into an almond tree, and of course there is reference to cedars and cypress and olives and figs throughout the text. Trees accompany us through life, and even mark our graves (for example Deborah the nurse of Rebecca is buried under an oak and the place named “alon bacut – a tree of weeping). They are with us in the desert, in the mountains, on the plains – and in exile.  They act as sentry and as shade, signal the presence of water in dry lands and produce essential foods – olives, figs, pomegranates and dates….

So it is possibly not surprising that we have a particular blessing for seeing fruit trees in blossom. However this blessing is unusual, indeed it is unique, for in no other blessing do we refer to any natural being or event as being “of benefit to human beings”. We don’t bless the rain like this, nor crops, nor sunshine nor animals nor food nor wine –it is only when we see more than one flowering fruit tree together that this blessing is invoked.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה
יהוה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ
מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
שֶׁלֹּא חִסֵּר בְּעוֹלָמוֹ כְּלוּם
וּבָרָא בּוֹ בְּרִיּוֹת טוֹבוֹת
וְאִילָנוֹת טוֹבוֹת
לְהִתְנָאוֹת בָּהֶן בְּנֵי אָדָם׃

Blessed are you, Adonai our God, ruler of the universe
who has made nothing lacking in the world at all, 
but Who created a good creation and good trees
for the children of Adam to benefit from them

To return to the midrash: in Bereishit Rabbah we read that as a response to the arrogance of the trees, God is said to have created iron on the same day. The trees cried out in fear – God had created the very material that would be used to destroy them. God’s response is telling – indeed there is the possibility of an axe being used to fell trees, but for such a destruction the trees would have to play a part – the handle of any axe would of necessity be made from wood.

I think of this story every time Tu b’Shevat comes around, and we focus on environmental ethics and ecological need. We often remind ourselves with the midrash from Kohelet that the world was created for human beings, but that if we damage it there is no one who will be able to put it right afterwards. This  is a frightening thought – there are long term and unmitigable consequences to our behaviour towards our world. But I think we should also remind ourselves that when great damage is done, it requires our participation or at the very least our assent. Environmental damage is done not by “others” with no connection to ourselves, but we have to admit that we too are part of the process.  Whether it is the clearing of rain forests for planting crops or palm trees for their oil. Whether it is the plague of plastic pollution in the oceans as well as on land, or the greenhouse gasses, emissions from transport vehicles of all kinds, food waste and food miles…. – we all partake of the creation of the damage. We are the wooden handle holding the iron blade, we are complicit.

I think it is almost impossible not to be party to the damage, though it is good for us to educate ourselves to mitigate our contribution. And trees also teach us that there can be growth and regeneration if the destruction is halted. The very word means has meanings of connection, of strength and wise counsel. And how often have we seen a tree stump regrow – be it the very real sycamore gap tree by Hadrian’s wall (https://www.npr.org/2024/08/01/nx-s1-5060047/sycamore-gap-tree-regrowth-go-tree-go) or the messianic metaphor in the prophesy of Isaiah (11:1-3) that A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. /2 The Spirit of the Eternal will rest on him— the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord—3 and he will delight in the fear of the Lord”.    Trees can, and do, regenerate.

We should maybe be “more tree”. Planted firmly on the earth and reaching up into the sky, Generous with our offerings to the world – the fruit and flowers of trees sustain not only human beings but many wild animals and birds. Bringing beauty and stability and strength and comfort to the world -trees provide shade and security and homes for many insects and birds.

Even to begin to understand our connectedness to nature,  to begin to mitigate our actions and our assent to the damage being done in our world, so that with small changes in behaviour we can make a difference, that I think is what these texts are telling us.

Tu biShvat is a date to focus our attention. And I think the date – even the disagreement about the date – is an important signal to us. It is the only  “new year” not to fall on the first of the month, but instead on the new moon. Discussion around the chosen date recognises that it fits no obvious good time for planting, or for the blossom to be open and seen – instead the traditional commentators make rather random claims that the rain is “mostly fallen” – it is still within the rainy season in Israel, a terrible time to plant as any gardener will advise.  So why claim a date that cannot be said to be seasonal for the calculation of tax of the fruit of trees? I think because tradition wants us to look further than the dry calculation of tithing and accountancy, to think about the importance of trees in our world, and to remind us of their deep connection to us.

In the poem by Max Halperin

Aseini K’Ilan: Make Me Like A Tree, Max Halperin
Make me like a tree rooted on the water, with fruit to give in its time.
Make me like lightning descending from the sky, illuminating the earth for a moment.
Make me like rain, light or heavy, that gives strength to a tired world.
Make me like wheat, simple and common, that brings forth our bread from the earth.
Make me like myrtle aside the lulav, that gives its color to joy.
Make me like a red rose with thorns, beautiful and strong in its way.
Make me like an olive with pure oil, a symbol of serenity and our dedication.
Make me like the sun that rises with us, which colors the sky with its light.
Make me like the dew on the grass, making the land glimmer at each dawn.
Make me like the sea, vast and unified, which renews the shore and itself.
Make me like a windflower, little and tall, a dot of color in the winter fields.
Make me like the moon alight in the darkness, smiling from among the stars.
Make me like the desert, open on all sides, strengthening all who trust it.
Make me like a river on the forest floor, rushing to enliven its world.
Make me like a bush with colorful flowers, beautifying its surroundings with its presence.
Make me like a cloud in a blue expanse, and its community that dances with the spirit.
Make me like an unripe fruit on its branch, constantly growing and sweetening.
Make me like nectar within a flower, feeding the smallest animals.
Make me like a rainbow against the gray, a promise of improving times.
Make me like a pomegranate with many seeds, a symbol of new beginnings.
Make me like a lily resting on the water, reaching up from the depths.
Make me like an apple waiting on its tree, prepared to ripen at its time.

עֲשֵׁנִי כְּאִילָן שָׁתוּל עַל הַמַּיִם, עִם פֵּרוֹת לָתֵת בִּזְמַנּוֹ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּבָרָק יוֹרֵד מִן שָׁמַיִם, שֶׁמֵּאִיר אֶת הָעוֹלָם לִשְׁנִיָּה

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּגֶשֶׁם קַל אוֹ כָּבֵד, שֶׁנּוֹתֵן כֹּחַ לְעוֹלָם עָיֵף

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּדָגָן פָּשׁוּט וְרָגִיל, שֶׁמּוֹצִיא לַחְמֵנוּ מִן הָאָרֶץ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כַּהֲדַס עַל יַד הַלּוּלָב, שֶׁנּוֹתֵן רֵיחוֹ לְשִׂמְחָה

.עֲשֵׁנִי כַּוֶּרֶד אָדֹם עִם קוֹצִים, יָפֶה וְחָזָק בְּדַרְכּוֹ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כַּזַּיִת עִם שֶׁמֶן זַךְ, סֵמֶל שֶׁל שַׁלְוָה וְשֶׁל חֲנֻכָּתֵנוּ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּחַמָּה עוֹלָה אִתָּנוּ, שֶׁצּוֹבַעַת הַשָּׁמַיִם עִם אוֹרָה

.עֲשֵׁנִי כִּטְלָלִים עַל הַדֶּשֶׁא, הַמְּנַצְנְצִים עַל הָאָרֶץ בְּכָל זְרִיחָה

.עֲשֵׁנִי כַּיָּם גָּדוֹל וּמְאַחֵד, שֶׁמְּחַדֵּשׁ אֶת הַחוֹף וְאֶת עַצְמוֹ

 .עֲשֵׁנִי כְּכַלָּנִית קְטַנָּה וּגְבוֹהָה, נְקֻדָּה שֶׁל צֶבַע בִּשְׂדוֹת הַחֹרֶף

.עֲשֵׁנִי כַּלְּבָנָה נָגַהּ בַּחֹשֶׁךְ, הַמְּחַיֶּכֶת מִתּוֹךְ הַכּוֹכָבִים

.עֲשֵׁנִי כַּמִּדְבָּר פָּתוּחַ בְּכָל צַד, שֶׁהֶחֱזִיק אֶת כָּל שֶׁהֶאֱמִין בּוֹ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּנָהָר עַל רִצְפַּת הַיַּעַר, שֶׁרָץ לִחְיוֹת עוֹלָמוֹ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כִּסְנֶה עִם פְּרָחִים צִבְעוֹנִים, יָפֶה סְבִיבָתוֹ עִם נוֹכְחוּתוֹ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּעָנָן בָּרָקִיעַ כָּחֹל, וּקְהִלָּתוֹ שֶׁרוֹקֶדֶת עִם הָרוּחַ

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּפָגָה עַל עֲנָפָהּ, גְּדֵלָה וּמוֹתֶקֶת תָּמִיד

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּצוּף בְּתוֹךְ הַפֶּרַח, מַאֲכִיל לְהַחֲיוֹת הַהֲכִי קִתְנוֹת

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּקֶשֶׁת כְּנֶגֶד הָאָפֹר, הַבְטָחָה לִזְמַנִּים מְשֻׁפָּרִים

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּרִמּוֹן עִם גַּרְעִינִים רַבִּים, הַמְּבַשֵּׂר לְהַתְחָלוֹת חֲדָשׁוֹת

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּשׁוֹשָׁן נָח עַל הַמַּיִם, שֶׁהוֹשִׁיט כִּתְרוֹ לְמַעְלָה מֵהָעֵמֶק

.עֲשֵׁנִי כְּתַפּוּחַ מְחַכֶּה עַל עָצוּ, נָכוֹן לְבַשֵּׁל בְּעִתּוֹ

Parashat Bo: real freedom isn’t given by others but constantly and repeatedly created and maintained by ourselves

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When God re-enters history to bring the children of Israel back to their own land, as was promised in the covenants made with Abraham, Isaac and with Jacob, the relationship between humankind and God is altered for all time. 

In the book of Genesis, when the first human beings freely disobeyed Gods orders and ate from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, the result was that they acquired divine characteristics, and so, in case they would go on to acquire the ability to surmount life and death and become immortal, they had to go.  Thrust out of Eden, humankind had to get on with looking after itself, with only the gifts God gave them to survive and to thrive.

Later, when Abraham met God and began to understand something about the nature of the absoluteness of God, a different relationship developed – one of mutual obligation – a covenant.  This relationship was passed down from father to son through the particular blessing, and “Covenant” became a particular family characteristic, shared through the generations and eventually the many and diverse descendants. For the family we know from the Book of Genesis grew, and over the generations became “the children of Israel” who were not so much a family, not so much a tribe, as a people, bound together by blood and name, but also by circumstance. 

As slaves in Egypt they had a shared experience far more powerful than the stories they shared of common ancestry.  As an oppressed foreign labour force they shared humiliation and pain and they shared dreams of freedom too.  The notion of a Creator of the Universe who cared about them as individuals must have seemed very far-fetched – a figure of legend rather than a real presence. Yet they clung on to the stories and the traditions, they knew their yichus, their family background stories and narratives that gave them identity, and they knew about the Covenant and the Promise that they would one day return to their own land, and be free.

When God re-entered history, and re-entered the relationship between the descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, it was to fulfil the conditions of the covenant made all that time ago, and to bring about real human freedom.  The story of the exodus reads as one of liberation from oppression, but scratch the surface a little and the liberation is a far greater one. It is the story of the true freedom – the freedom to be.

One of the most difficult ideas which confronts the reader of this narrative is that of Gods hardening the heart of Pharaoh.  It just doesn’t seem fair that Pharaoh is manipulated in this way; that he can’t back down and give up.  To the unwary reader God is portrayed as an unforgiving and devious God, barely giving the Pharaoh a chance to repent and change his mind.

But look at the whole story a little closer and something else emerges.  

Pharaoh operates on the assumption that not only can he refuse Gods requests, but that he can overrule God.  He assumes that his is the greater power; that the world operates on his say-so.  Any other ‘god’ is simply a less superior being than himself.  The battle that is waged between Pharaoh and God has to be one which destroys that assumption for all time: – as we pray at the end of the Aleinu “The Eternal shall be as a monarch over all the earth, On that day the Eternal shall be One and known as One”. 

It is the absoluteness of the Diving Being that must be recognised as this story unfolds, and with that recognition will come real understanding and hence real freedom. 

Pharaoh’s heart is hardened, his will is strengthened – he is empowered to act out fully his self-perception of his divinity, and no human weakness will prevent him from engaging in the battle between himself and God.  Each time he begins to falter,  he is buoyed up again by thinking himself in charge, in control of the world around him. He offers freedom and then rescinds his offer when the immediate threat is removed.  He feels himself to be in a position to negotiate; he thinks he holds all the cards and that is opponent will bend to his will.  His whole world view is cut off from the reality that we see the rest of Egypt begin to understand – his power is increasingly seen as irrelevant.

Yet still he carries on until his apparent divinity and power is shown up for what it is, he cannot keep his people safe, he cannot overpower his opponent in the battle for supremacy, he and his people are mortal.

After the terrible night that saw the deaths of the first born children and animals in all of Egypt, the children of Israel are sent on their way, thrust out yet again into an unknown future, yet this time at least they had a leader with a direct line of communication with God.

  The text tells us that before that final night and climactic terrible plague of death,  the children of Israel had to do something for themselves in a very public way – they had essentially to demonstrate their own confidence in God, and their contempt of Egyptian theology, by daubing their doorposts with blood from a newly slaughtered lamb, and many understand that the symbolism of this was huge – the lamb was one of the most powerful symbols of divinity used in Egypt.  Those who did this brave act were spared the effects of the passing over them of the Angel of Death; those who were not brave enough or sure enough to do so were treated like the rest of the Egyptians among whom they had chosen to stay, and their first born sons and animals were also killed. 

The Israelites were learning about real freedom throughout the plagues that were around them, they were learning that real freedom is in the self, and is not given – cannot be given – by another person.  They had light while the Egyptians had a deep darkness. 

So by the 10th plague the Israelites had learned about the freedom to be themselves and not be afraid of other people, and the Egyptians had apparently learned that what they assumed was their birthright to control their world did not in fact stand up.  They were not free to decide how the Israelites should live; they were not free to do exactly as they pleased at the cost of other people’s lives and with the consequent effacement of God. 

One might assume that liberation had truly been effected – both the physical and the mental and spiritual liberation of the exodus from Egypt. But the story goes on, describing exactly the human ability to disbelieve, to take refuge in habitual lines of thought.  For soon after the Israelites had left Egypt – an Egypt in mourning, devastated and destroyed by what had happened within its boundaries, the pharaoh picked himself up – no hardening of the heart this time – and sent an army with horsemen and chariots after them to bring them back.  And the Israelites, finding themselves between this army and the sea, feared greatly that the whole liberation was false, that they would be forced to return to slavery in Egypt. What happened then is a story everyone knows – the Israelites jumped into the water, the sea parted and the Israelites passed through but the Egyptians who followed were drowned.  Only when Pharaoh had lost his army, and all trappings of control, would he finally come to realise that he was not all powerful.  Only when the children of Israel took the plunge (if you’ll pardon the pun), and do what they had to do, and took a risk, did they come to believe in their own abilities to survive, in their own freedom.  The Song at the Sea begins with a telling phrase: ”When the people saw all that God had done, then they believed in the Eternal and in Moses God’s servant”. 

It took a huge amount of effort to force the Pharaoh and the Egyptians to realise that their economic and military control of the region did not in the end guarantee their freedom, and it took some huge risk taking on the part of the Israelites before they realised that their freedom lay within themselves, that it is not an external force at all.  All of the drama that went on in Egypt merely dressed the stage and acted as backdrop for the realisation that the freedom could have been found all along. It just took someone with a willingness to take a risk, and with a vision of freedom being available, for the whole scenario to play itself out.  From the expulsion from Eden through the repeated covenant relationship with Abraham Isaac and Jacob, God was there and waiting for the next stage. The story moved on with our willingness – or lack of willingness – to grasp freedom for ourselves, to recognise our role in creating freedom for ourselves and for others.

With all its obligations and responsibilities, its terrors and its pleasures, its risks and its rewards, freedom is scary. But unless we grasp it and work to keep it, and ensure that others are also able to enjoy it, we are not fulfilling our role in the world. As Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan, the founder of Reconstructionist Judaism recognised, “It is much harder to live a life of freedom and self-rule than to be ruled by others”. Yet this is the choice we must make, and Bible reassures us that in making it we will find we are not alone at all.

Bereishit: men and women created equally and mutually

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Genesis has two creation stories, each with a different structure and a different name for God. The first, with the numbered days of the first week, has Elohim create humanity in God’s image at the end of the process, and this humanity is neither singular nor male. “Vayivra Elohim et ha’adam b’tzalmo, betzelem Elohim bara oto, zachar u’nekeivah bara otam” (1:27)

The second, where humanity was created even before the Garden of Eden was made, has one human fashioned from the dust of the earth, and placed into Eden. But it is already clear that one living being is a lonely being, so God creates the animals and birds. The human names them but does not develop a mutual relationship with them, and ultimately God has to create more human beings in the world. To do this, God does not create a new thing, but takes from the existing human to form the being who will be in relationship with it.

How we translate what God takes from the first being is critical to how we understand gender politics. And how it has been translated in the past is a direct outcome of such politics. For God takes מִצַּלְעֹתָיו  – from the side of the first human, and not, as it is frequently translated, a rib from it. This root appears over forty times in bible, and is never translated as anything other than “side” except in this passage, and first found in the Septuagint. If we look more closely we see that the word always describes something that is leaned upon, or (in the case of Jacob) limped upon. So what is bible telling us with this word? When God divides the Adam into ish (man) and isha (woman), the two are equal. One might ask why this understanding disappeared when bible is so clear?

 

(written for “the bible says what?” series for the progressive Judaism page of the Jewish News)

 

“He will Rule Over You” a verse misused

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While it is true that God says to Eve ‘I will multiply your pains in childbearing; with painful labour you will bring forth children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you’, one must remember that extracting a verse from its context can be dangerous.

There are those who read this verse as objectively true. Childbirth is painful; women look for intimacy more than men; men are superior to women. This writer is not one of them.

The passage occurs immediately after the expulsion from Eden. God curses the serpent with separation from other species for beguiling the woman, adding mutual hostility for good measure. Then comes the statement to Eve, and finally Adam is addressed, “Because you listened to your wife and ate the fruit… The ground is cursed …By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food.

There are two biblical parallels. God challenges Cain later in almost identical language “sin waits at the door; its desire towards you, but you can rule over it.” The passages mirror each other – Eve’s desire is positive, sin’s negative. Dominating is negative when over Eve, but positive when over sin. And we see another mirror image from before leaving the garden: In Eden Eve’s will dominated and food had been easily obtained. Now we have the reverse: an exercise in irony and dislocation from the perfect.

The statements to Adam, Eve and the serpent must be read within this context of warning that life will never be easy, never be perfect; there will always be temptations, we must work hard to make the best of it.

This verse has been used to justify keeping women subservient to men, overlooking the texts where men and women are created equally. Its misuse compounds the problem of living in an imperfect dislocated world and hides the achievable resolution.

written for and published in Progressive Judaism section of London Jewish News February 2018

Bereishit: Leaving Eden as equals with creative work to do

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One of the most difficult verses in bible comes early in the text and seems to set the scene for those who want to prove that God loves the patriarchy and that the divine ideal is that women are to be subservient to the rule of men. I have lost count of the times that men have told me that women were cursed by God because of the culpable actions of Eve in the Garden of Eden, or the times when women have told me that there is nothing we can do to remedy the role our biology has cast for us. Calling attention to the earlier creation story in which male and female are created together in the image of God as one Adam/human being doesn’t seem to have the same power as the story called by Christianity “The Fall”. Indeed this verse seems almost magically forgettable as being the original scene setter of the creation of human beings – so I thought it was time to have a look again at the text that so conveniently can be read as “the sin of a thoughtless woman has led to her and her husband being rejected by God and evicted from paradise into a miserable existence.”

Reading Genesis 3:16, after God has asked the man who had told him that he was naked, and asked directly if he had eaten of the tree that God had commanded him not to eat, the man said “the woman whom you gave to me, she gave me of the tree and I ate”. God turns to the woman and asks “what is this that you did?” and she says “the serpent beguiled me and I ate”. God doesn’t ask anything of the serpent, but instead tells it “Cursed are you among all the cattle and all the beasts of the field. Upon your belly you will go and you will eat dust all the days of your life. And I will put animosity between you and the woman and between your seed and her seed, they shall bruise your head and you shall bruise their heel”

Let us just note here some interesting moments. The serpent is described as being among the cattle and the beasts of the field – not a class we would normally associate with scaled reptiles, but definitely something we would associate with an agrarian world view.  And let’s note too that the antipathy is between

          בֵין זַרְעֲךָ וּבֵין

      זַרְעָהּ

 

your seed and her seed – the human descendants are described as the seed of the woman rather than of the man, obliquely but definitely introducing the idea of female childbirth in the future.

With this in mind, let’s look at the next verses.  God turns his attention to the woman, saying:

אֶל־הָֽאִשָּׁ֣ה אָמַ֗ר הַרְבָּ֤ה אַרְבֶּה֙

עִצְּבוֹנֵ֣ךְ וְהֵֽרֹנֵ֔ךְ בְּעֶ֖צֶב תֵּֽלְדִ֣י בָנִ֑ים וְאֶל־אִישֵׁךְ֙ תְּשׁ֣וּקָתֵ֔ךְ וְה֖וּא יִמְשָׁל־בָּֽךְ:   ס

Now this verse is most painful for us feminists. It is most often translated as “To the woman he said, I will greatly increase your pain and your travail. In pain you will bring forth children, your desire shall be to your husband and he shall rule over you”

But that is not the only way to translate it, and the clue is in the context of this passage. To begin, let’s look at the first half of this verse, in particular the word whose root it “etzev” ayin, tzaddi, beit and its noun form used here : itz’von. It is used only three times – twice here in relation once to Eve and once to Adam, and later about Noach.

The root has two major meanings – one is to to hurt/ to work hard and the second is to form/to fashion. The nouns are itz’von and he’ron, which look like a parallel is being used. Given that the second noun means pregnancy/forming a baby, then itz’von should also mean forming a baby/ pregnancy – in which case the phrase means “I will greatly increase your creating a baby and your pregnancy, and with hard work (labour) you will give birth to children.

Note that God does NOT curse the woman. Instead God informs her that she will be taking over the hard work of creation, it will be her seed as a result of the encounter with the serpent, so it will be her role to bring forth human beings in the future. God is done – having created everything else in the garden with the ability and seed to reproduce, now it is time for human beings to do so for themselves.

Let’s look too at the use of itz’von in relation to the man. And note too, that God does NOT curse him either.

וּלְאָדָ֣ם אָמַ֗ר כִּ֣י שָׁמַ֘עְתָּ֘ לְק֣וֹל אִשְׁתֶּ֒ךָ֒ וַתֹּ֨אכַל֙ מִן־הָעֵ֔ץ אֲשֶׁ֤ר צִוִּיתִ֨יךָ֙

לֵאמֹ֔ר לֹ֥א תֹאכַ֖ל מִמֶּ֑נּוּ אֲרוּרָ֤ה הָֽאֲדָמָה֙ בַּֽעֲבוּרֶ֔ךָ בְּעִצָּבוֹן֙ תֹּֽאכֲלֶ֔נָּה כֹּ֖ל יְמֵ֥י

חַיֶּֽיךָ

“To the man God said, because you heard the voice of your wife, and you ate from the tree which I commanded you saying ‘you shall not eat of it’, then cursed is the land on account of you, with itzavon/ (hard work/forming and creatively fashioning),  you will eat from it all the days of your life.” (3:17)

Both man and woman are now told that the hard work of creating is down to them. The serpent and the land are cursed, they are no longer going to be as they were first intended to be, the serpent loses its place in the agricultural world, the land too loses its place as a garden where growth is luxurious and abundant and does not require the hard work that any gardener or farmer will tell you is necessary today to create a crop of food or flowers.

What is the curse on the land? It is that it will bring forth weeds, thorns and thistles, the unintended and unwanted growth that any farmer or gardener will tell you comes as soon as you stop working the ground, hoeing out the weeds, protecting the young seedlings.

A curse is something that goes wrong, that is not intended in the original plan, that deviates from the ideal.  So it is particularly interesting that the human beings are not themselves cursed, their situation is not deviating from the plan. It begins to look like leaving Eden was always the plan, that creating was always going to be delegated, otherwise why put those tempting trees there?

The section ends with God telling the man that in the sweat of his face he will eat bread, until he returns to the ground he came from, and the man calling his wife Eve, because she has become the mother of all living. Both these again are references to the itz’von of each of them – she becomes creative in the area of growing children, he in the area of growing food. And God’s statement that follows “Behold, the human has become like one of us”, is then qualified in terms of knowing good and evil, but it also describes the attributes of creativity that each now have, attributes which until this point have been the dominion of the divine.

Now let’s look at the second half of the verse where the woman’s future is described. “Your passion will be to your man, and he will mashal  you (וְה֖וּא יִמְשָׁל־בָּֽךְ:  v’hu yimshol bach)”

M’sh’l is one of two words for ruling over – the more usual being m’l’ch. It too has a second meaning – to be a comparison, from which we get the idea of proverbs/parables which show us a truth by virtue of a difference. The first time we have the word is in the creation of the two great lights which will m.sh.l the day and the night in Genesis 1:16-18. Are they ruling over the day and the night or are they providing a point of comparison? Is the man ruling over the woman or does he have a comparable function of creativity? Her passion is for him, a necessary partner for the creation of children. His comparable creativity is to work the land, to bring forth food alongside the thorns and thistles that grow there.  He is not described as her master/ba’al but as her ish/man, the equal partner of her status as isha.

Can one read these verses in this way, of the passing on of the ability to create through the seriously hard work of the two protagonists?

The next (and final) time we meet the word itz’von is at the birth of Noach, ten generations after Adam and the pivot to the next stage of the story, indeed the rebirth of creation after the earth is so corrupted that God chose to destroy it by flood.

We hear that Lamech, the father of Noach says

וַיִּקְרָ֧א אֶת־שְׁמ֛וֹ נֹ֖חַ לֵאמֹ֑ר זֶ֠֞ה יְנַֽחֲמֵ֤נוּ מִֽמַּֽעֲשֵׂ֨נוּ֙ וּמֵֽעִצְּב֣וֹן יָדֵ֔ינוּ

מִן־הָ֣אֲדָמָ֔ה אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֵֽרֲרָ֖הּ יְהוָֹֽה

“And he called his name Noach (rest) saying, this one will comfort us from our work and the itz’von/ creativity/  work of our hands, (which arises) from the land which God cursed” (Gen 5:29)

It is a deliberate reminder of the story of Adam and Eve and their given roles to bring forth new life (both human and plant) with as much creativity and manipulation of the environment as they needed. It is a reminder that God changed the role of the land through the curse, which gave humanity the challenge to provide themselves with food as creatively as they could. It is a signal that another creation is about to happen, Noach will be part of that change, though quite how that was to work out was not clear to his father Lamech. He was hoping for N.CH. for rest. He was hoping for the accompanying and phonically similar comfort. But this isn’t what God was going to do, as anyone who had read the earlier chapter would know. Creativity, forming new people and working the land is not a restful or a comfortable experience. It is backbreaking work physically, it is emotionally draining and challenging. Anyone who has worked so much as a window box will know how things grow that you don’t expect, how plants carefully fostered will not necessarily flower, or even if they do may not be the one you anticipated. Anyone who has nurtured a child will find that they are no blank slate, that they have their own views and their own desires. The children of Adam and Eve provide the first fratricide in bible – surely not something their parents wanted.

So – if we read this difficult passage in the light of the first creation story in the first chapter, where it is abundantly clear that God created humanity with diverse gender, equally, at the same time, and in the image of God, and we choose not to look through the lens of the patriarchy, then we can see that neither man nor woman are cursed, that instead they are blessed with itz’von the ability to form, to fashion, to manipulate and create in their environment in the same way that God had done. We see that the hard work of bringing forth the future is both challenge and blessing. We see that there are always problems – the thistles and the thorns among the grain, the children who learn very quickly to assert their own personalities and say no – and that it is our role to negotiate these problems and grow a good crop/teach good values to the next generation. We have taken the power to form and to fashion our world, for good or for ill. And after the new creation and the covenant with Noach God is leaving us to do it for ourselves. I am pretty sure that that did not include one gender dominating the other, or one people ruling over another.  We left Eden in order to create a world where we had ability and agency. As we start the torah reading cycle once more, it is down to us to use our creativity and our agency and work hard to make our world the best place we can.