On Ki Tavo and its Absence of Divine Compassion by Ivy Helman.

Grounded in an ancient theodicy, Ki Tavo (Deutoronomy 26:1-29:8), the Torah portion for September 17th, is an emotional rollercoaster.  In it, the Israelites find their lot in life directly linked to their own behavior.  Follow the commandments to gain blessing; ignore them at your own peril.  While the commandments listed here are laudable from a feminist perspective, the deity’s response to non-concompliance is problematic.  It is full of victim-blaming and empty of compassion.  Furthermore, Ki Tavo’s portrayal of divine expectations leaves no room for human nature to actually be anything other than complete perfection.  This is unacceptable.   

As should sound familiar to the reader by now, Ki Tavo speaks to a specific historical context: the Babylonian exile.  As we are aware, the typical theodicy of the Babylonian exile places blame for the Israelites’ lot in life on the Israelites themselves, specifically on how their behavior (or their ancestors’ behavior) has warranted divine punishment.  In other words, the Isrealites have not observed the commandments and thus deserve what is happening to them.  This justifies an understanding of the divine as vengeful, spiteful, jealous, and victim-blaming.

That being said, what exactly happens in Ki Tavo?  Ki Tavo, also like many Torah portions, discusses commandment observance.  From a feminist perspective, the portion rightly focuses its description of the commandments on justice and fairness within the community (27:16-25)  as well as care for the widow, stranger, orphan, the poor, and the disenfranchised (26:12-13, 27:18-19).  Its interpretation of the commandments seem to be truly about how, according to its time, a community, that puts the downtrodden and outcast first, should function.  These are generally good principles.

Taken by author.

Ki Tavo then lists, in varying degrees of specificity, what happens to the Israelites when and if they observe the commandments.  If they heed the commandments, they receive abundant blessings.  These blessings focus on material, this-worldly rewards (28:3-13).  Most offer abundant crops, flowing, deep rivers, good bread, fertility of human and animal, and rain, while, unfortunately, there are a few which mention blessings in terms of gaining power-over and, thus, influence.  (Here it is impossible to give specific verse references as many verses have a combination of material blessings and less tangible, power-focused ones.)

When the Isrealites fail to heed the commandments, they incur divine wrath.  This is depicted in Ki Tavo as curses or cursing.  The curses are sometimes quite mundane and other times absolutely disturbing.  There are the typical droughts (28:22, 24), plagues (28:22, 38-39, 42), diseases (28:22, 27-28, 35, 59-61), wars (28:49-53) and so on.  

And, then, there are some not-so-common curses.  One intriguing curse is exile, which forces the Israelites to practice idolatry (28:36). Interestingly, here idolatry is not a breaking of the commandments, but a punishment for doing so (28:36).  Exile signifies the physical breakdown of the group, while idolatry distances that same group from their covenantal relationship with their chosen deity (28:64). They are not a people any longer as they live in foreign lands and worship different gods.

The uncommon curses go one step further and remove any semblance of the Israelites’ humanity through cannibalism.  In Ki Tavo, this is a result of war.  The deity wages a vicious war against the disobeying Israelites, using other humans  (28:57).  Their cities are so mercilessly besieged to the point that the people completely run out of food.  With nowhere else to turn, they are forced to resort to cannibalism (28:53).  Even the most gentle and well-behaved man and woman becomes, when this happens, cannibals (28:53-55), eating their own children to survive.  

Yet, who is to blame for the death of their community and their own inhumanity?  The deity who punishes?  No.  Ki Tavo makes it clear that it is the Isrealites themselves.  By punishing the Israelites’ non-observance, the deity is only being faithful to the established covenant to which both parties freely agreed.  This victim-blaming might have made sense of the Babylonian exile for those who were living through it, but it is also clearly a product of patriarchy.  Back then victim-blaming justified war and disease. Now, it condones such practices as domestic violence, rape, and various manifestations of power-over.  It is problematic because it does not acknowledge who is most often truly at fault: other, more powerful, humans.

Ki Tavo also paints a one-sided picture of divine understanding when it comes to good and evil.  There is either goodness (in Ki Tavo, observance) and blessings or evil (non-observance) and curses.  There is no middle ground, no explanation, and certainly no compassion.  

This lack of divine compassion is what bothers me the most in Ki Tavo.  Even though humans are divine creations, the writers of the Torah have depicted the Creator as so disconnected from creation that there is no compassion and no understanding of humanity, only sheer anger and divine wrath.  According to Ki Tavo, our Creator is more than willing to shattered the community, our relationship with the divine, and even our own humanity than practice forgiveness and mercy.

Thank goodness that the Jewish tradition’s understanding of the divine does not stop at Ki Tavo.  Rather, Jewish tradition teaches us that we, in the covenant, have partnered with the divine who understands us, showers us with compassion and mercy, and does indeed forgive us (when we don’t always behave as we should).  We have a faithful deity who is abundant in goodness and rarely upset or disappointed.  We can put our hope and our faith in the goodness of the Holy.   

As we enter the High Holy Days, may Ki Tavo’s understanding of the divine as wrathful, angry, destructive, and vindictive stay in the past where it belongs. In this new year, may Compassion embrace us, gifting us with a sacred empathy for others and also for ourselves.  May mercy and goodness be with us this year and all the days of our lives.  And, may the world and our hearts be at peace.

L’shana tova umetukah! (For good and sweet year!)

Ivy Helman, Ph.D.: A feminist scholar and faculty member at Charles University in Prague, Czech Republic where she teaches a variety of Jewish Studies, Feminist and Ecofeminist courses.  

Crow and the Pornographic Gaze by Sara Wright

Once she believed that
it was her fault
they came on to her,
that she owed them
something
They owned her?
Secretly the
girl was pleased
because any kind of attention
was better than none,
or being so “different” –
stitched into an Indian skin.

She was a pretty shell,
an abandoned spiral
worn down by waves –
assaulted from within
by the pornographic gaze.
How she hated being young.

Continue reading “Crow and the Pornographic Gaze by Sara Wright”

What We Lost When We Became Monotheists by Ivy Helman

imageThe Tanakh, Jewish scriptures, predominately call the deity king and lord and use the masculine pronoun.  These images evoke a certain level of power. Just how powerful the deity is in then multiplied when “he” is addressed as  “G-d of Gods,” “Lord of Lords,” judge, almighty, all-powerful, and warrior-like with vengeance, fury and flaring nostrils. Events like war, army invasion, disease, drought,  and famine are often described as divine punishments for wrongs done throughout the Tanakh.

All of these images bring forth a certain mindset regarding who the divine is and what “he” does.  Indeed, such images may well have been crucial in those ancient days when famine, drought, war, and disease  were ever present and, day-to-day survival was often extremely difficult. People sought understanding as to why they were suffering, and the workings of divine beings offered such explanations.   Continue reading “What We Lost When We Became Monotheists by Ivy Helman”

“This Golgotha of Modern Times” by Joyce Zonana

Our visit to Poland coincides with the Feast of the Assumption, a time when tens of thousands of pilgrims arrive on foot to pay homage to Our Lady of Częstochowa, Poland’s Black Madonna. I too am a pilgrim, visiting the sites, not of miracles but of martyrdom. As I make my way through what Pope John Paul II called “this Golgotha of modern times,” I am overcome; like him, I “am here kneeling down” to implore Our Lady to help us heal the vast, still open wound that is our life on this earth.

4BC9846D-628B-4F1D-89BF-BB212E5D94BCI had never imagined visiting Eastern Europe, a place toward which I felt no attraction, or, if anything, a deep aversion. To my mind, these were the killing fields, where six million Jews, Roma, political prisoners, homosexuals, and others were massacred by the Nazis during World War II. As a bisexual Jew, a dark-skinned Middle Easterner sometimes taken for a gypsy, why would I want to go there?

But my husband, who was raised Catholic in Chicago, is of Polish and Lithuanian descent. He and his two sisters have talked for years about visiting the villages from which their grandparents, escaping economic hardship and military conscription, had emigrated early in the twentieth century. It remained wistful talk until Mike and I made plans to attend a yoga retreat in rural Denmark. We’d be so close, we reasoned, why not cross the Baltic to explore his ancestral homes? His two sisters readily agreed to join us. Continue reading ““This Golgotha of Modern Times” by Joyce Zonana”

On Va’etchanan: Do Not Murder, Rather Love by Ivy Helman

29662350_10155723099993089_8391051315166448776_oVa’etchanan (Deuteronomy 3:23-7:11) gives us pause for thought in its contradictions.  First, the parshah (Torah portion) contains the aseret hadibrot (Ten Commandments), among which is:  you shouldn’t murder (5:17). Then, pasukim (verses) 6:4-5 contain the shema (Hear O Israel! The L-rd is Our G-d.  The L-rd is One!) followed by the admonishment to: “love the L-rd, your G-d, with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your might,” (Deut. 6:4-5).  Finally, pasuk 7:2 instructs the Isrealites, upon entry into the Promised Land, to kill and “utterly destroy” the various groups of people living there.   

In other words, one is supposed to not murder.  One is reminded to love G-d.  And, then, G-d commands the Israelites to commit mass murder. I can’t help but think about the mass murders in the United States. Continue reading “On Va’etchanan: Do Not Murder, Rather Love by Ivy Helman”

Windigo by Sara Wright

Windigo,

the Potawami Nations call him.

Malignant,

this spirit thrives

in the Northern Woods,

within the human soul.

Hatred for self or other

hidden

under Lies.

 

Windigo, the

Potawami Nations call him

He thrives

on greed.

Empty

He can never

Be filled.

Continue reading “Windigo by Sara Wright”

A Moment of Change in Our Church by Janice Poss

On September 12, 2018, Roman Catholic Bishop David O’Connell helped move the Episcopate into a new day. A healing Mass at Our Lady of the Assumption Church in Claremont, California was celebrated for the victims of clergy sex abuse. They were humanized, spoken about reverently, prayed about to heal, to sacredly be acknowledged in their pain, to be known how priests and bishops were guilty and had their direct part in the hurtful abuse of children. This Mass was said in the hope of healing our collective wounds, I believe it has helped turn a new chapter in our church.

The service did not stop at the end of the mass: Bishop O’Donnell had an open Q&A with the people in the pews who came, many attending had been abused, not all by priests, but others. Among them were a man abused by a woman when he was four years old, a woman whose sister was abused by a priest, a woman abused from six years old until twelve by a male.  The victims were all a part of the prayers said for this healing mass dedicated to the victims of clergy sexual abuse, particularly from the recent revelations of sex abuse by the Grand Jury in the Pennsylvania dioceses. Continue reading “A Moment of Change in Our Church by Janice Poss”

On Vayelech, Its Context and Theodicy by Ivy Helman

29662350_10155723099993089_8391051315166448776_oThe Torah parshah for this week (to be read on 15 September) is Vayelech (Devarim/Deut. 31:1 – 30).  September 15th is also Shabbat Shuvah (return), the Shabbat that falls between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  It is the time of the year when we focus on repentance for all of the ways in which we have failed to live up to G-d’s standards.

Perhaps it is fitting then that this parshah is also preeminently about how our ancestors believed they continually failed to live up to G-d’s standards.  It concerns itself quite repetitively with three things: one, the passing of the leadership of the Israelite community to Joshua and G-d’s last requests of Moses, two, the rants of a jealous G-d who already knows of the Israelites betrayal and, three, an invitation for the entire community (Israelite and non-Israelite men and women and children) to hear the words of the Torah and Moses’ song (which follows in Duet. 32).  This is prefaced by the occasion of Moses’ birthday as well as the reminder that Moses can’t enter the Promised Land. Continue reading “On Vayelech, Its Context and Theodicy by Ivy Helman”

On Snakes by Ivy Helman

imageIn the ancient world, snakes represented fertility, creativity, rebirth, wisdom and, even, death.  They were often closely connected to female goddesses, priestesses and powerful human females who were the embodiment of such powers.    For example, there is the Minoan goddess/priestess holding the two snakes in her outstretched arms.  She is closely linked with fertility and domesticity.  Similar figurines, with similar associations and dating to approximately 1200 BCE, have also been founded in the land of what once was Canaan, where Israelites also lived.  Medusa, in whose hair lived venomous snakes, turned men who looked at her to stone.  Ovid’s account of the creation of Medusa credits the Greek goddess Athena with Medusa’s lively hair.  Another Greek legend says Perseus, after killing Medusa, gave her head to Athena who incorporated it into her shield.  Athena, the goddess of wisdom, is portrayed often with snakes wrapped around her as a belt and/or on the floor next to her. Continue reading “On Snakes by Ivy Helman”

Mulling over Movies: Moana, Pt. 1 by Elise M. Edwards

elise-edwardsI love going to outdoor movie screenings.  Sitting outdoors on a summer evening with good company brings me joy.  Last week, I went to an screening of Moana, the Disney movie about a teenager who goes on a quest through the Pacific Ocean with the demi-god Maui.  Moana goes on this journey to help her people.  The movie came out last year, but I didn’t see it.  I have to admit that I wasn’t even interested in it until Simone Biles performed a dance to one of Moana’s songs on Dancing with the Stars. It was then that I realized that the movie has an empowering message.  I asked my friend Natalie, who is also a feminist religion scholar, about Moana.  She has three young daughters, so I trusted her to be more current than I am.  Her enthusiastic response sold me, as did her remark, “There’s not even a love story in it!”

Ah, Disney princesses and their love stories!  I’m old enough that I didn’t grow up with the Disney culture that children in the past few decades have, but I haven’t been immune to the Disney princess phenomenon.  I childhood pre-dated DVDs and digital downloads, but I still knew and cherished the Disney characterizations of Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. These young women were kind and virtuous and beautiful (according to Eurocentric standards), but their stories culminate with marriage to a charming prince.  It’s also problematic that so often, the villains in these movies were older women—wicked stepmothers or evil witches—who were motivated by jealousy and hate.

Continue reading “Mulling over Movies: Moana, Pt. 1 by Elise M. Edwards”