Following our TBE Medical Advisory meeting this past Wednesday, I thought about the paradoxes we are presented with during this stressful and uncertain time and the Jewish concept of “choosing life” immediately came to mind (Deuteronomy 30:19).
Over the centuries, this idea has meant different things, which today feel increasingly at odds with one another. The imperative to choose life has suggested that we must protect our physical well-being and each other at all costs. This principle is known as pikuach nefesh, saving life, and its importance outweighs almost every other Jewish principle, including keeping Shabbat.
It is Jewish tradition to prioritize the lives we live and the bodies that enable us to do so, including the necessary precautions to stay physically and mentally healthy. For the past year, we have had to physically isolate ourselves from people and the community. These precautions may have lasted longer than expected, but we found a way to stay well emotionally, spiritually, and relationally. As this week’s Torah portion, Ki Tisa, in the Book of Exodus reminds us, anxiety around our sense of stability can lead us down a chaotic and ultimately, unhelpful path.
Following liberation from slavery and an uncharted path to freedom through a vast desert, the Israelites freaked out when their trusted leader, Moses, was delayed coming down Mount Sinai, after receiving the Torah on their behalf. “When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down the mountain, the people gathered against Aaron (Moses’ brother) and said, ‘Make us a god who will go before us for that man Moses, who brought us from the land of Egypt, we do not know what has happened to him’” (Exodus 32:1).
What ensued was the making of the Golden Calf, a physical representation of God that they began to worship. This was only days after having received the Ten Commandments, one of which explicitly said not to make a physical image of God.
Understandably, the physical absence of their one stable presence since leaving Egypt and their mediator, Moses, left these people feeling untethered. They reacted, as we all do when feeling out of control. They grasped at simple answers, acted against their better judgment, and gave in to their greatest fears. According to traditional Jewish commentators, they were so consumed by doubt that they actually miscounted the day Moses told them he would be back.
It is important to realize that the Israelites’ misstep was not about trying to reclaim agency in a time of crisis. Judaism tells us to act when we can make a difference. In their panic, they reverted to another people’s way of worship. They sought to wholly submit themselves to a tangible deity of their own making, rather than trusting in their relationship with Moses and the God who brought them out of Egypt, or as Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan called it, “the power that makes for salvation.”
When acting out of desperation, we run the risk of losing ourselves. We forget about the most vulnerable among us. While grasping for the most immediate, palpable responses, we miss out on opportunities which unfold with patience, thoughtfulness, and collaboration. More than anything, we run the risk of losing hope when things do not turn out as planned.
In the upcoming months you will hear about the thoughtful process of coming back together in person. There may still be limitations and perhaps some set-backs, but there is light at the end of the tunnel.
On this Shabbat and in the days to come, I hope we can all take the time and space we need to re-center ourselves. Rest, cry, eat well, connect with loved ones, engage in replenishing and creative work, so that we can continue to meet the demands of our time. That is how we choose life in its fullest sense.
We look forward to seeing you in person soon.
Be strong and well!
Shabbat Shalom
Judy
