A
warm meal. A hot shower. Electric lights.
Just
a couple of weeks ago, after the Hurricane, so many of us were joyfully
grateful for these things. We received them as gifts. Many of us probably said,
“Thank God!” when the electricity was restored.
When
material and spiritual comforts are scarce, the quality of gratitude is so
often right there, on the surface. We can’t help but feel thankful. We are
aware that the abundance we live with most of the time can so easily be taken
from us.
We
read in the Torah, in the book of Deuteronomy:
For
the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with streams and
springs and fountains issuing from plain and hill; a land of wheat and barley,
of vines, figs and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey; a land where
you may eat food without stint, where you will lack nothing; a land whose rocks
are iron and from whose hills you can mine copper. When you have eaten your
fill, give thanks to the Lord your God for the good land which He has given
you.
Take
care lest you forget the Lord your God . . . . When you have eaten your fill,
and have built fine houses to live in, and your herds and flocks have
multiplied, and your silver and gold have increased, and everything you own has
prospered, beware lest your heart grow haughty and you
forget the Lord your God – who freed you from the land of Egypt, the house of
bondage; who led you through the great and terrible wilderness with its seraph serpents and scorpions, a parched
land with no water in it, who brought forth water for you from the flinty rock;
who fed you in the wilderness with manna, which your fathers had never known. .
. – and you say to yourselves,
“My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me.”
Remember that it is the Lord your God who gives you the power to get wealth, in
fulfillment of the covenant that he made on oath with your fathers, as is still
the case.
Here,
the Israelites are about to cross over from the desert, a land of scarcity
where they had to rely on God to take care of them every moment – to the
Promised Land, a place of abundance. Their material needs will be met easily, but
in the land, they will encounter a new spiritual
challenge – to continue to be aware of God and the gifts that God is giving
them at every moment.
More
often than not, this is our challenge as well.
My
teacher, Rabbi Jonathan Slater writes of this passage that:
This
is not a prophecy so much as an observation of human behavior: awareness is
sharp in the face of danger, yet dull in the midst of plenty. Why is it that we
notice insufficiency, pain, obstruction, resistance, conflict and respond with
clarity and energy, offering thanks when we experience relief? And yet, when
all goes swimmingly we are less attentive to our lives, less likely to be
grateful? And why, in the midst of wellbeing, are we resentful when we
experience any diminution, any loss, any impediment to our continued happiness?
It
may be partly biological: we are wired for self-preservation, and respond
instinctively, automatically to danger. When we recover from times of stress
and reaction, the body eases, the field of vision expands and we feel a sense
of wellbeing and can say “thank God”. When we are not threatened by danger,
when our lives are not (apparently) on the line, we apply ourselves to greater
security, more food and shelter, and then even fame and fortune. Out of the habit
of struggling for life, we are also out of the habit of saying “thank God”.
The
Deuteronomy text warns us that when things are going well, and we have all that
we need and more, our hearts grow haughty. Our ego grows so large that we
forget that what we have is not due to the work of our own hands alone. We
forget our times of struggle and scarcity and vulnerability, and we lose sight
that all that we have, all that we have accomplished, is a gift from God.
Next
week we will be sitting at Thanksgiving tables, laden with food, surrounded by
family and friends. And since the holiday is called Thanksgiving, we will
probably remember to give thanks to that which is greater than ourselves. I
hope we will remember that that pumpkin pie is not the work of my hands alone.
But
in days of abundance, especially on days that are not specially entitled,
“Thanksgiving,” the Torah warns us: “Beware!” says the Torah, “lest
your heart grow haughty and you forget the Lord your God!” The note of warning
and fear of God in this passage may not sit so well with us - a sense that if
we forget to recognize that all that we have is a divine gift, then something
terrible will happen.
The
Chasidic tradition gives us a more hopeful interpretation, I think. According
to the Birkat Avraham, the fear of God that we are to nurture, is more like awakened
attention. Attention to the impermanence of life, its transience and
unpredictability. We are to sustain that awareness even when it is less
perceptible – when life is good, and all seems secure. When we hold fast to
that awareness, we will be prepared for the inevitable stumbles, accidents and
losses that occur in a life. They will not appear as insults, inconsistent with
our rightful due, but part of the whole of life, as much a part of God as the
goodness we knew before. Life and sustenance are “given” to us by God as much as
they are “taken away” by God. That is life; it is all grace, a gift given
freely, impermanent and precious.
One
way that we can nurture this awareness of our own vulnerability is to make it a
practice to reach out to others who are suffering from scarcity, to pay
attention to their stories, and to respond with our compassion and help.
Once
our electricity was restored after the storm I found myself naturally paying more
attention to what was happening in Long Island, New Jersey and Staten Island. I
was surprised at how intensely moved I was by the stories of folks who had lost
everything, who were still without heat and water and electricity. My
experience of scarcity was so recent and palpable that I felt a powerful
impulse to reach out and help. And I
suppose I also felt moved out of gratitude for not having had to suffer as
direct a hit from the Hurricane that so many others suffered.
Unfortunately,
for me and for most of us I imagine, that impulse towards empathy and action
fades, the farther we are away from the event in time and space. Perhaps, this
is why we have community institutions like synagogues and Food pantries, to
remind us. Please continue to give, especially money –
and the Shoreline Pantry needs our donations more than ever. http://cbsrzrabbi.blogspot.com/2012/11/hurricane-sandy-relief-lets-be.htm
And, in light of
the violence occurring in Israel and Gaza, give to Federation and/or NIF.
Most
of us are familiar with the words of the 23rd Psalm which are attributed
to King David. It opens with the words, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not
want.” The Birkat Avraham has an
interesting take on this Psalm – he teaches that King David would constantly
contemplate: with all of the wealth of the kingdom it was still possible for
him to die of starvation for want of everything. It was only because “The Lord is my shepherd” that therefore
“I shall not want”. Without God’s help, he could not be sure that he,
the King himself, would have what to eat. This fear of losing everything is in
fact a quality of faith – a knowing that all depends on God that leads to reverence
of God.
Psalm
23 continues “You have set a table before us in full view of our enemies, You
have anointed my head with oil, My cup overflows.”
Every
day, every moment, we can choose, as King David did, to notice that all that we
have is in fact manna from heaven. That there is a force of love and generosity
in the universe that makes my life possible. That every table at which I eat is
in fact, a Thanksgiving table.
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