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We Jews are obsessed about matchmaking. There is a popular stereotype of the Jewish mother who is always trying to find a wife for her eligible sons, but actually this is a community wide activity. Our Jewish sport is setting people up. We’ve even developed a scoring system, so that according to Jewish folklore, when you score a hat-trick (having made three matches which end in marriage) you automatically guarantee yourself a place in Heaven. And this sport even has professionals, as Shadchanim (matchmakers), go around arranging shidduchim (matches) within the Jewish community (in our modern world if you visit www.shiduchim.com it will link you to an Orthodox Jewish dating site).
We have our first matchmaker in this week’s Torah portion, as Abraham entrusts his senior servant (usually associated with Eliezer of Damasek) with the task of finding a wife for Isaac. Abraham made Eliezer swear an oath ‘that you will not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites among whom I dwell, but will go to the land of my birth and get a wife for my son Isaac’ (Genesis 24:3-4). For Abraham the national identity of his son’s future wife is paramount – this may effectively be the first time a Jewish parent said: ‘I want to find a nice Jewish girl for my son,’ or words to that effect.
However, Eliezer recognised that there would be more to making a successful marriage, than a shared ancestry, and so once he had reached the well outside the city of Nahor, he made a deal with God about the type of woman he was looking for. ‘Let the maiden to whom I say, “Please, lower your jar that I may drink,” and who replies, “Drink, and I will also water your camels” – let her be the one whom You have decreed for your servant Isaac’ (Genesis 24:14). Eliezer essentially asks for a sign from God about the woman whom Isaac should marry, but through the sign he also says something about her character. An appropriate wife, in Eliezer’s opinion, is a woman who will be generous to strangers and even to their animals.
Abraham was concerned by nationality, above all else, but Eliezer, the first Shadchan, reminds us that it takes more than a shared identity to make a marriage work. To fulfil Abraham’s request, Eliezer could have brought back a variety of girls from Abraham’s homeland, and in the style of a Shushan beauty contest, he could have found a wife for Isaac. But rather than pursuing a scatter gun approach, Eliezer looked a little bit deeper, and found a prospective partner for Isaac, who had an appropriate soul and spirit.
Rebecca is a very interesting choice as a wife for Isaac. On the one hand she is a woman from Abraham’s homeland, and a member of his extended familial tribe. But we may assume that she had no idea of the covenant, of which Abraham and Isaac were both a part, and so we can also imagine that she was the first woman who converted to Judaism when marrying her husband.
We might consider that when Jewish folklore set the bar at three couples for a place in Heaven, it was setting the bar rather low. But those of us who have tried to ‘set people up’ and act as the Jewish matchmaker, know that it is not always easy. We often go by appearance or profession, without looking more deeply at whether two people will really be suited. Eliezer looked more deeply, and when the couple were introduced, ‘Isaac brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah, he took Rebecca as his wife, and he loved her’ (Genesis 24:67). We know that Eliezer was at least one third of the way to Heaven.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Two Minutes of Torah: Vayera (Genesis 19:1-21) - The Real Sin of Sodom
What picture comes to mind when we hear the names Sodom and Gomorah?
These cities have become symbols of wickedness, depravity and general abusive behaviour. And their names are forever associated with any place which is deemed to have descended into evil. We can all think of examples of modern day cities which have been labelled as Sodom or Gomorah. The most common association in our contemporary society is with Las Vegas, as can be seen in the portrayal of Sodom in the film ‘Year One’ and can be read about in many articles about our modern day ‘sin-city’.
From almost the first reference in Torah, we know that Sodom is destined for destruction. ‘And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jordan, that it was well watered every where before Adonai destroyed Sodom and Gomorah’ (Genesis 13:10). To leave no doubt as to why the cities were destroyed the text specifies ‘the men of Sodom were exceedingly wicked and sinners before Adonai’ (Genesis 13:13). However, it offers no description of the wickedness or sin perpetuated by the people. And no additional information is given when God informs Abraham of the decision to destroy the cities: ‘because the cry of Sodom and Gomorah is great, and because their sin is very grievous’ (Genesis 18:20).
In this week’s Torah portion we gain some limited insight into the type of cities which they were, through the visit of the 2 angels. When Lot greets them he appears concerned for their safety and urges them to stay in his home (Genesis 19:3). And almost immediately the house is surrounded by the men of the city who inquire about the visitors and demand ‘bring them out unto us, so that we may know them’ (Genesis 19:5). The Hebrew is ambiguous and the request to ‘know them’ may, in the Bible, be a reference to sexual relations. The mob therefore offers another insight into the undesirable nature of the city.
Despite these Biblical references, the Rabbis decided that the sin of Sodom was something different. In Pirkei Avot (the Ethics of the Fathers) there are a series of verses which divide society into groups and categories. One of them states:
‘There are four types of people: One who says, "What is mine is mine and what is yours is yours" – this is the common type, though some say that this is the type of Sodom. One who says, "What is mine is yours and what is yours is mine" – they are an ignorant person. One who says, "What is mine is yours and what is yours is yours" – this is a saintly person. And one who says, "What is yours is mine, and what is mine is mine" – they are a wicked person’ (Pirkei Avot 5:13).
We might have expected that the Rabbis would have equated the behaviour of the ‘wicked person’ with ‘the type of Sodom’, but instead they suggest that the ‘common type’, saying “what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours”, is associated with Sodom. This is a striking statement about what a sinful city is like; it is not a den of depravity and vice, it is a place where people are only concerned with their own possessions and well-being.
Sodom was punished for being the ‘common type’. Rather than looking for extreme examples as our modern day Sodom and Gomorah; perhaps we should look at our own cities, and the places where we live. Wherever people are only concerned about their own possessions and well-being – it could be Sodom; where people ignore the community and focus only on themselves – it could be Gomorah. With this understanding we can challenge the sin of Sodom and Gomorah, not just in extreme examples, but in ourselves and our own cities; and perhaps this is the lesson which the Rabbis wanted to teach.
These cities have become symbols of wickedness, depravity and general abusive behaviour. And their names are forever associated with any place which is deemed to have descended into evil. We can all think of examples of modern day cities which have been labelled as Sodom or Gomorah. The most common association in our contemporary society is with Las Vegas, as can be seen in the portrayal of Sodom in the film ‘Year One’ and can be read about in many articles about our modern day ‘sin-city’.
From almost the first reference in Torah, we know that Sodom is destined for destruction. ‘And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jordan, that it was well watered every where before Adonai destroyed Sodom and Gomorah’ (Genesis 13:10). To leave no doubt as to why the cities were destroyed the text specifies ‘the men of Sodom were exceedingly wicked and sinners before Adonai’ (Genesis 13:13). However, it offers no description of the wickedness or sin perpetuated by the people. And no additional information is given when God informs Abraham of the decision to destroy the cities: ‘because the cry of Sodom and Gomorah is great, and because their sin is very grievous’ (Genesis 18:20).
In this week’s Torah portion we gain some limited insight into the type of cities which they were, through the visit of the 2 angels. When Lot greets them he appears concerned for their safety and urges them to stay in his home (Genesis 19:3). And almost immediately the house is surrounded by the men of the city who inquire about the visitors and demand ‘bring them out unto us, so that we may know them’ (Genesis 19:5). The Hebrew is ambiguous and the request to ‘know them’ may, in the Bible, be a reference to sexual relations. The mob therefore offers another insight into the undesirable nature of the city.
Despite these Biblical references, the Rabbis decided that the sin of Sodom was something different. In Pirkei Avot (the Ethics of the Fathers) there are a series of verses which divide society into groups and categories. One of them states:
‘There are four types of people: One who says, "What is mine is mine and what is yours is yours" – this is the common type, though some say that this is the type of Sodom. One who says, "What is mine is yours and what is yours is mine" – they are an ignorant person. One who says, "What is mine is yours and what is yours is yours" – this is a saintly person. And one who says, "What is yours is mine, and what is mine is mine" – they are a wicked person’ (Pirkei Avot 5:13).
We might have expected that the Rabbis would have equated the behaviour of the ‘wicked person’ with ‘the type of Sodom’, but instead they suggest that the ‘common type’, saying “what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours”, is associated with Sodom. This is a striking statement about what a sinful city is like; it is not a den of depravity and vice, it is a place where people are only concerned with their own possessions and well-being.
Sodom was punished for being the ‘common type’. Rather than looking for extreme examples as our modern day Sodom and Gomorah; perhaps we should look at our own cities, and the places where we live. Wherever people are only concerned about their own possessions and well-being – it could be Sodom; where people ignore the community and focus only on themselves – it could be Gomorah. With this understanding we can challenge the sin of Sodom and Gomorah, not just in extreme examples, but in ourselves and our own cities; and perhaps this is the lesson which the Rabbis wanted to teach.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The father of IVF finally has the fame his name deserves
(This Article was originally published in The Jewish News on the 14th October)
Last week, for a couple of days, Professor Robert Edwards became one of the lead stories across the British press. Most newspapers dedicated significant column inches towards celebrating the achievements of the man known as the ‘father of IVF’. I have to be honest, before last week I had not heard of Professor Edwards, but by the end of it I had a basic understanding of his research, and can tell you that more than four million children have been born worldwide as a result of his groundbreaking work. In reading about this man, his perseverance and dedication to his quest is something highly admirable. And his is definitely a name I will now remember.
Professor Edwards was the first recipient of a Nobel Prize for 2010. Since him, five other awards have been granted.
The Nobel Prize is a world-renowned award given to people for work in a variety of fields including literature and peace. Many recipients of the Prize, such as Professor Edwards, have fascinating stories to tell about their work and research, and they are worthy recipients of recognition and admiration. In many cases, they are people who may have remained anonymous outside of their field, were it not for the Nobel Prize, which has undoubtedly made their names more widely known. There is one name, however – the most recognised name associated with the prize – which was already very famous before it became associated with the prize itself.
That name is Alfred Nobel.
On the 13 April 1888, Alfred Nobel awoke to discover that he had died. Or at least that is what one French newspaper reported, as it carried an obituary for the inventor. More shocking than seeing his name in the obituary was the description Nobel found within it. The tribute stated: “Dr. Alfred Nobel, who became rich by finding ways to kill more people faster than ever before, died yesterday.” It also carried the line: “The merchant of death is dead”. Alfred Nobel’s shock on reading about his demise was not limited to the obvious fact that he was very much alive. He was also shocked, and deeply distraught by the way in which his life and his name were destined to be remembered.
As it turns out, the French newspaper got the wrong Nobel. It was actually Alfred's brother, Ludwig, who had died the previous day. This unfortunate accident turned out to be quite fortuitous as Alfred Nobel gained something few of us ever receive: an insight into the way we would be remembered after his death. Needless to say he was less than excited about the prospect of being known as 'The merchant of death'.
He was given an extra eight years, until his actual passing on 10 December 1896, to change the way that the world viewed and remembered him. In his last will and testament the bulk of his estate was left for the establishment of prizes in the sciences, literary works, peace, and now economics. Alfred Nobel is still the inventor of dynamite, but today his name is first and foremost associated with prizes awarded to the great and good in society. His name is therefore forever linked with celebrated Nobel Prize winners including Isaac Bashevis Singer, Yitzhak Rabin, Elie Wiesel and now Professor Edwards.
This week, as we read the story of Lech Lecha, when God made the initial call to Abraham, we read about the promise that Abraham received, which included within it the line: ‘I will make your name great’.
Included within the pledge that Abraham will be the founder of a great nation is the idea that Abraham will also possess a great name.
This was a promise about the type of person Abraham would become and the way in which he would be remembered. It was not about a literal name, but rather the reputation which would accompany his name – something he would earn for himself through his life and his actions.
Professor Robert Edwards has a great name in the Abrahamic sense, because of his important work and research in the field of medicine, helping millions of people to create life. The Nobel Prize did not make his name great, it simply gave his name the fame it deserved.
Through his will, Alfred Nobel changed his name from one associated with dynamite and death to one which is now linked to the words scientist, inventor, entrepreneur, author and pacifist. We can’t all endow millions to establish trusts and ensure our legacies. But through our words, our behaviour and our actions, we can gain for ourselves names which we can be proud of.
We may never achieve the fame which accompanies the receipt of a Nobel Prize, but it is within our control to fulfil our Jewish birthright of establishing for ourselves a great name.
Last week, for a couple of days, Professor Robert Edwards became one of the lead stories across the British press. Most newspapers dedicated significant column inches towards celebrating the achievements of the man known as the ‘father of IVF’. I have to be honest, before last week I had not heard of Professor Edwards, but by the end of it I had a basic understanding of his research, and can tell you that more than four million children have been born worldwide as a result of his groundbreaking work. In reading about this man, his perseverance and dedication to his quest is something highly admirable. And his is definitely a name I will now remember.
Professor Edwards was the first recipient of a Nobel Prize for 2010. Since him, five other awards have been granted.
The Nobel Prize is a world-renowned award given to people for work in a variety of fields including literature and peace. Many recipients of the Prize, such as Professor Edwards, have fascinating stories to tell about their work and research, and they are worthy recipients of recognition and admiration. In many cases, they are people who may have remained anonymous outside of their field, were it not for the Nobel Prize, which has undoubtedly made their names more widely known. There is one name, however – the most recognised name associated with the prize – which was already very famous before it became associated with the prize itself.
That name is Alfred Nobel.
On the 13 April 1888, Alfred Nobel awoke to discover that he had died. Or at least that is what one French newspaper reported, as it carried an obituary for the inventor. More shocking than seeing his name in the obituary was the description Nobel found within it. The tribute stated: “Dr. Alfred Nobel, who became rich by finding ways to kill more people faster than ever before, died yesterday.” It also carried the line: “The merchant of death is dead”. Alfred Nobel’s shock on reading about his demise was not limited to the obvious fact that he was very much alive. He was also shocked, and deeply distraught by the way in which his life and his name were destined to be remembered.
As it turns out, the French newspaper got the wrong Nobel. It was actually Alfred's brother, Ludwig, who had died the previous day. This unfortunate accident turned out to be quite fortuitous as Alfred Nobel gained something few of us ever receive: an insight into the way we would be remembered after his death. Needless to say he was less than excited about the prospect of being known as 'The merchant of death'.
He was given an extra eight years, until his actual passing on 10 December 1896, to change the way that the world viewed and remembered him. In his last will and testament the bulk of his estate was left for the establishment of prizes in the sciences, literary works, peace, and now economics. Alfred Nobel is still the inventor of dynamite, but today his name is first and foremost associated with prizes awarded to the great and good in society. His name is therefore forever linked with celebrated Nobel Prize winners including Isaac Bashevis Singer, Yitzhak Rabin, Elie Wiesel and now Professor Edwards.
This week, as we read the story of Lech Lecha, when God made the initial call to Abraham, we read about the promise that Abraham received, which included within it the line: ‘I will make your name great’.
Included within the pledge that Abraham will be the founder of a great nation is the idea that Abraham will also possess a great name.
This was a promise about the type of person Abraham would become and the way in which he would be remembered. It was not about a literal name, but rather the reputation which would accompany his name – something he would earn for himself through his life and his actions.
Professor Robert Edwards has a great name in the Abrahamic sense, because of his important work and research in the field of medicine, helping millions of people to create life. The Nobel Prize did not make his name great, it simply gave his name the fame it deserved.
Through his will, Alfred Nobel changed his name from one associated with dynamite and death to one which is now linked to the words scientist, inventor, entrepreneur, author and pacifist. We can’t all endow millions to establish trusts and ensure our legacies. But through our words, our behaviour and our actions, we can gain for ourselves names which we can be proud of.
We may never achieve the fame which accompanies the receipt of a Nobel Prize, but it is within our control to fulfil our Jewish birthright of establishing for ourselves a great name.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
My Sermon - 15th October - The Good News from Chile
There are certain events which unite a community. Then there are some events which unite a nation. And occasionally there are events which transcend boundaries and unite the world.
This week we witnessed one of those events.
From the early hours of Wednesday morning, through into Thursday, the world was united. Across the globe, in every continent and every country, we were captivated by a single story. We were transfixed by a single miraculous event.
We watched the inspiring rescue of 33 Chilean miners from an underground prison, which had threatened their lives and their sanity. We watched as a capsule was sent down into the depths of the earth, and we bore witness to the rebirth of each one of the 33 miners as they emerged out of the darkness and into the light.
For a period of just over twenty-four hours no matter where you were in the world, we were all on the same side; we were all hoping and praying for the same outcome, we were united in anticipation.
There was nervous trepidation at first, as we watched the capsule descend and rise; uncertain as to whether it would be able to fulfill its heroic mission. Then, as the capsule bore fruit, rescuing those first few miners, the mood changed to one of anticipation, would this story really have a happy ending? And as the number of miners on the surface grew, the atmosphere became one of charged excitement. Watching the embrace between Chile’s President and the thirty-third man out, Luis Urzua, was a moment of joy, relief, excitement, celebration and gratitude all rolled into one.
Each one of us will have one image or picture which will stay with us from those miraculous 24 hours. I will remember the sight of the daughter of Richard Villarroel Goody, the twenty-eighth miner out. She stood holding her Chilean flag, barely able to contain her excitement at seeing her father again after over two months. As his harness was removed you could hear her calling out, and then we watched as father and daughter embraced, holding onto each other with an intensity we probably can never fully understand.
The topographer, Maria Valdes, whose careful work back in August was crucial in locating the miners, and discovering that they were still alive, said yesterday that the rescue was 75% engineering and 25% miracle. None of us who watched the rescue could fail to acknowledge the miraculous dimension to the proceedings in Chile. The miners were in isolation, without confirmation of life or death for 17 days, and they survived underground for 69 days. It was a miracle they survived, it was a miracle they were found, and it was a miracle that all 33 were rescued alive. Human ingenuity and engineering played its part, but we should have our eyes open to the miracle which we have witnessed.
This is a miracle in which humanity and God played their part together, as the perfect partners. The miners prayed together. Out of the depths they called out to God, and God answered. Ricardo Villaroel, described how the experience of being in the mine renewed his faith in God, he said: ‘I never used to pray, here I learned to pray. I got closer to God.’ Another miner, Jimmy Sanchez, wrote in a letter prior to his rescue: ‘There are actually 34 of us, because God has never left us down here.’ We should see God’s face in the background of this miraculous story, but we should also see the shining beacon which can be humanity.
This was a moment which united the world, across the globe people gathered together to watch and listen to news of the miraculous rescue of the Chilean miners. All too often our news is a depressing drumbeat of negative stories and gloomy incidents. We read about the rise in unemployment and a shaky economy, we see pictures of wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, we watch as floods and tsunamis rob people of their homes, and we witness the destructive force of man.
But this time we got to watch a good news story, we got to watch a story about rescue and relief, rather than death and destruction.
And we watched it along with the rest of the world. On Thursday morning there was really only one story. Here in Britain, the Daily Telegraph ran with the headline: ‘The Miracle of San Jose’, according to the Dutch newspaper Volkskrant: ‘Hardly anyone had ever heard of the San Jose mine beforehand but now it's the centre of the world’. The South China Morning Post proclaimed: ‘Prayers, Tears and Jubilation’, and according to Germany’s Die Welt, ‘Nearly a billion people followed the rescue by internet, on the radio or the television’.
In a way that was worthy of the worldwide attention, the meticulously planned rescue was a truly international effort. A U.S. company supplied the drilling technology that broke through to the miners. NASA donated a high-calorie liquid diet. An Austrian company made the capsule's winch-and-pulley system. And there were numerous offers of help from every corner of the globe.
Why were we in London so concerned with the plight of 33 miners over 7,000 miles away on the other side of the world?
I think that all of us have grown tired and disillusioned with our regular diet of bad news and depressing storylines. The rescue of the Chilean miners allowed us to gain a glimpse of something else. It allowed us to watch a good news story, one which brought us tears of joy, and not sadness. It was a story in which we could take pride in our human achievements, rather than recoiling at human failure and frailty.
We recognised the value of each life, and in the faces of those miners we saw our own fathers, brothers, cousins, nephews, friends and relatives. We recognised the common humanity which we all share. Our eyes were opened to the spark of God present within all of us.
For a moment the world was not divided by colour, creed, race or religion, we were united by our common humanity.
Last week in our Torah we read the story of Noah, and we read about the rainbow which God placed in the sky as a sign of God’s covenant with all of humanity. After the flood and the apocalyptic destruction of virtually the entire world, God placed a rainbow in the sky as a sign that God will never destroy the world again, and as a symbol of the covenant between God and all of humanity – not just one religion or another – but with each and every one of us.
The rainbow brings together seven different colours, creating a whole, which is significantly more spectacular and beautiful than the sum of its parts. It is representative of the different elements which make up the human race. We come in all shapes, sizes, colours, creeds, religions and races. Each group possesses an individual beauty, but it is together that humanity is truly spectacular and awe inspiring.
The rainbow was the symbol for a united humanity in the Torah, and this week 33 miners became our modern sign that this dream is still possible.
This week we watched 33 miners emerge from darkness into light, and as a world we waited together, we watched together and we celebrated together. The rescue was a miracle, but so too was the way in which we gained a glimpse into the potential we have to come together, putting aside petty divisions and disagreements to share in the successes and accomplishments of the whole human race.
On this desolate patch of Chilean desert, in a place called Camp Hope, we were given a clear message: Human life is precious and we must all be united in saving and preserving it. This week as we saw the world united, we gained a glimpse of the messianic age. It is now our task to take the experiences of this past week forward and to build a world in which we are united not just in the face of adversity, but in the faces of each other.
This week we witnessed one of those events.
From the early hours of Wednesday morning, through into Thursday, the world was united. Across the globe, in every continent and every country, we were captivated by a single story. We were transfixed by a single miraculous event.
We watched the inspiring rescue of 33 Chilean miners from an underground prison, which had threatened their lives and their sanity. We watched as a capsule was sent down into the depths of the earth, and we bore witness to the rebirth of each one of the 33 miners as they emerged out of the darkness and into the light.
For a period of just over twenty-four hours no matter where you were in the world, we were all on the same side; we were all hoping and praying for the same outcome, we were united in anticipation.
There was nervous trepidation at first, as we watched the capsule descend and rise; uncertain as to whether it would be able to fulfill its heroic mission. Then, as the capsule bore fruit, rescuing those first few miners, the mood changed to one of anticipation, would this story really have a happy ending? And as the number of miners on the surface grew, the atmosphere became one of charged excitement. Watching the embrace between Chile’s President and the thirty-third man out, Luis Urzua, was a moment of joy, relief, excitement, celebration and gratitude all rolled into one.
Each one of us will have one image or picture which will stay with us from those miraculous 24 hours. I will remember the sight of the daughter of Richard Villarroel Goody, the twenty-eighth miner out. She stood holding her Chilean flag, barely able to contain her excitement at seeing her father again after over two months. As his harness was removed you could hear her calling out, and then we watched as father and daughter embraced, holding onto each other with an intensity we probably can never fully understand.
The topographer, Maria Valdes, whose careful work back in August was crucial in locating the miners, and discovering that they were still alive, said yesterday that the rescue was 75% engineering and 25% miracle. None of us who watched the rescue could fail to acknowledge the miraculous dimension to the proceedings in Chile. The miners were in isolation, without confirmation of life or death for 17 days, and they survived underground for 69 days. It was a miracle they survived, it was a miracle they were found, and it was a miracle that all 33 were rescued alive. Human ingenuity and engineering played its part, but we should have our eyes open to the miracle which we have witnessed.
This is a miracle in which humanity and God played their part together, as the perfect partners. The miners prayed together. Out of the depths they called out to God, and God answered. Ricardo Villaroel, described how the experience of being in the mine renewed his faith in God, he said: ‘I never used to pray, here I learned to pray. I got closer to God.’ Another miner, Jimmy Sanchez, wrote in a letter prior to his rescue: ‘There are actually 34 of us, because God has never left us down here.’ We should see God’s face in the background of this miraculous story, but we should also see the shining beacon which can be humanity.
This was a moment which united the world, across the globe people gathered together to watch and listen to news of the miraculous rescue of the Chilean miners. All too often our news is a depressing drumbeat of negative stories and gloomy incidents. We read about the rise in unemployment and a shaky economy, we see pictures of wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, we watch as floods and tsunamis rob people of their homes, and we witness the destructive force of man.
But this time we got to watch a good news story, we got to watch a story about rescue and relief, rather than death and destruction.
And we watched it along with the rest of the world. On Thursday morning there was really only one story. Here in Britain, the Daily Telegraph ran with the headline: ‘The Miracle of San Jose’, according to the Dutch newspaper Volkskrant: ‘Hardly anyone had ever heard of the San Jose mine beforehand but now it's the centre of the world’. The South China Morning Post proclaimed: ‘Prayers, Tears and Jubilation’, and according to Germany’s Die Welt, ‘Nearly a billion people followed the rescue by internet, on the radio or the television’.
In a way that was worthy of the worldwide attention, the meticulously planned rescue was a truly international effort. A U.S. company supplied the drilling technology that broke through to the miners. NASA donated a high-calorie liquid diet. An Austrian company made the capsule's winch-and-pulley system. And there were numerous offers of help from every corner of the globe.
Why were we in London so concerned with the plight of 33 miners over 7,000 miles away on the other side of the world?
I think that all of us have grown tired and disillusioned with our regular diet of bad news and depressing storylines. The rescue of the Chilean miners allowed us to gain a glimpse of something else. It allowed us to watch a good news story, one which brought us tears of joy, and not sadness. It was a story in which we could take pride in our human achievements, rather than recoiling at human failure and frailty.
We recognised the value of each life, and in the faces of those miners we saw our own fathers, brothers, cousins, nephews, friends and relatives. We recognised the common humanity which we all share. Our eyes were opened to the spark of God present within all of us.
For a moment the world was not divided by colour, creed, race or religion, we were united by our common humanity.
Last week in our Torah we read the story of Noah, and we read about the rainbow which God placed in the sky as a sign of God’s covenant with all of humanity. After the flood and the apocalyptic destruction of virtually the entire world, God placed a rainbow in the sky as a sign that God will never destroy the world again, and as a symbol of the covenant between God and all of humanity – not just one religion or another – but with each and every one of us.
The rainbow brings together seven different colours, creating a whole, which is significantly more spectacular and beautiful than the sum of its parts. It is representative of the different elements which make up the human race. We come in all shapes, sizes, colours, creeds, religions and races. Each group possesses an individual beauty, but it is together that humanity is truly spectacular and awe inspiring.
The rainbow was the symbol for a united humanity in the Torah, and this week 33 miners became our modern sign that this dream is still possible.
This week we watched 33 miners emerge from darkness into light, and as a world we waited together, we watched together and we celebrated together. The rescue was a miracle, but so too was the way in which we gained a glimpse into the potential we have to come together, putting aside petty divisions and disagreements to share in the successes and accomplishments of the whole human race.
On this desolate patch of Chilean desert, in a place called Camp Hope, we were given a clear message: Human life is precious and we must all be united in saving and preserving it. This week as we saw the world united, we gained a glimpse of the messianic age. It is now our task to take the experiences of this past week forward and to build a world in which we are united not just in the face of adversity, but in the faces of each other.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Two Minutes of Torah: Lech Lecha (Genesis 15:1-21) - Where do babies come from?
“Where do babies come from?”
According to popular culture, parents live in perpetual fear of their children asking this question. It seems likely that the unease over giving an adequate answer was part of the reason why parents in Victorian England would tell their children: “the stork delivers them.” I guess if you’re not going to tell them the truth, it’s as believable as anything else. The image of the stork delivering babies is very prominent in popular culture; I am especially fond of the stork who delivered the baby elephant, Dumbo, to his mother in the famous Disney film.
However, despite our unease, we all know that it takes a man and a woman to make a baby. And ultimately parents need to have a frank conversation with their children, teaching them the truth about where babies come from. This knowledge makes Sarai’s absence from Genesis 15 very striking, as God and Abram discuss his lack of an heir.
When the Torah first introduced us to Abram and Sarai we were told ‘Sarai was barren, she had no children’ (Genesis 11:30). This fact has therefore been in the background throughout Abram’s story. When God said to Abram: ‘unto your seed will I give this land’ (Genesis 12:7) we were that there was no child to inherit the promise. Similarly, when God promised ‘and I will make your seed as the dust of the earth’ (Genesis 13:16) we know there is no seed. Only in Genesis 15 does Abram finally raise the issue of childlessness with God; ‘”My Lord Adonai, what will you give me, seeing I am childless and the steward of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said: “behold to me you have given no seed”’ (Genesis 15:2-3).
There is no mention of Sarai or her barrenness in this discussion. Abram specifically does not say: “we are childless” or “to us you have given no seed.” He ignores the fact that Sarai also had no children to love, care for and nurture. It is as though God, not the stork, will deliver a baby to Abram, with no need for Sarai to be involved.
The promise which Abram receives therefore speaks only to him. When God declares: ‘none but your very own issue shall be your heir’ (Genesis 15:4) Sarai is not mentioned; she is given no similar pledge that she will become a mother. It is little surprise that following this deal, struck between God and Abram, Sarai comes and offers Abram her maidservant Hagar (Genesis 16:1-3), so that there will be the chance for Abram to have an heir.
One cannot begin to imagine how Sarai must have felt; unable to provide Abram with a son, she invites another woman to share her husband’s bed so that he may have an heir. After the encounter between God and Abram it is little surprise that our Patriarch voices no opposition and simply ‘listened to the voice of Sarai’ (Genesis 16:2). The stork will not bring them a child, instead Hagar will provide Abram with the heir he has yearned for, his firstborn son Ishmael.
Abram neglected to consider the feelings of his wife Sarai, as he pursued his dream of having a son. The repercussions of this act come later in the narrative, when Sarah (by this time her name has changed) gives birth to her son Isaac, and very soon after demands that Abraham (his name was also changed) expel his firstborn son Ishmael and Hagar, the mother of his firstborn (Genesis 21). Sarah does not worry about Abraham’s feelings, and the relationship between father and son is irreparably broken – the next time they are mentioned together is when Ishmael, together with Isaac, bury their father (Genesis 25:9).
According to popular culture, parents live in perpetual fear of their children asking this question. It seems likely that the unease over giving an adequate answer was part of the reason why parents in Victorian England would tell their children: “the stork delivers them.” I guess if you’re not going to tell them the truth, it’s as believable as anything else. The image of the stork delivering babies is very prominent in popular culture; I am especially fond of the stork who delivered the baby elephant, Dumbo, to his mother in the famous Disney film.
However, despite our unease, we all know that it takes a man and a woman to make a baby. And ultimately parents need to have a frank conversation with their children, teaching them the truth about where babies come from. This knowledge makes Sarai’s absence from Genesis 15 very striking, as God and Abram discuss his lack of an heir.
When the Torah first introduced us to Abram and Sarai we were told ‘Sarai was barren, she had no children’ (Genesis 11:30). This fact has therefore been in the background throughout Abram’s story. When God said to Abram: ‘unto your seed will I give this land’ (Genesis 12:7) we were that there was no child to inherit the promise. Similarly, when God promised ‘and I will make your seed as the dust of the earth’ (Genesis 13:16) we know there is no seed. Only in Genesis 15 does Abram finally raise the issue of childlessness with God; ‘”My Lord Adonai, what will you give me, seeing I am childless and the steward of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said: “behold to me you have given no seed”’ (Genesis 15:2-3).
There is no mention of Sarai or her barrenness in this discussion. Abram specifically does not say: “we are childless” or “to us you have given no seed.” He ignores the fact that Sarai also had no children to love, care for and nurture. It is as though God, not the stork, will deliver a baby to Abram, with no need for Sarai to be involved.
The promise which Abram receives therefore speaks only to him. When God declares: ‘none but your very own issue shall be your heir’ (Genesis 15:4) Sarai is not mentioned; she is given no similar pledge that she will become a mother. It is little surprise that following this deal, struck between God and Abram, Sarai comes and offers Abram her maidservant Hagar (Genesis 16:1-3), so that there will be the chance for Abram to have an heir.
One cannot begin to imagine how Sarai must have felt; unable to provide Abram with a son, she invites another woman to share her husband’s bed so that he may have an heir. After the encounter between God and Abram it is little surprise that our Patriarch voices no opposition and simply ‘listened to the voice of Sarai’ (Genesis 16:2). The stork will not bring them a child, instead Hagar will provide Abram with the heir he has yearned for, his firstborn son Ishmael.
Abram neglected to consider the feelings of his wife Sarai, as he pursued his dream of having a son. The repercussions of this act come later in the narrative, when Sarah (by this time her name has changed) gives birth to her son Isaac, and very soon after demands that Abraham (his name was also changed) expel his firstborn son Ishmael and Hagar, the mother of his firstborn (Genesis 21). Sarah does not worry about Abraham’s feelings, and the relationship between father and son is irreparably broken – the next time they are mentioned together is when Ishmael, together with Isaac, bury their father (Genesis 25:9).
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