Do It Myself – Parshat Noach 5776

Eve Posen4 Comments

Do It Myself

Now that Shiri is reaching the true height of toddlerhood, we have a whole new dynamic going on in our house.  Shiri is Miss Independent and wants to do things all by herself.  This initiative is often helpful. She now feeds the dog regularly, takes off her own coat, puts things in the garbage, and cleans up her toys.  

However, sometimes she comes across a task that is beyond her current mental or physical capabilities.  While it would be lovely for her to open the fridge and take out and pour her own milk, she just isn’t tall or strong enough to do it.  Naturally, I intervene by starting to take the carton out myself. That’s when I hear, “No, no, no!” and screamy Shiri has reemerged.  She has switched on her mode of “I do it.”  

I don’t blame her for wanting to do more. Shiri, like all of us, loves the sense of accomplishment she feels when she successfully completes a task.  And while I don’t love the screaming and complaining, I do love her independence and admire her desire to take ownership of her world.

Taking ownership of our actions is an essential theme throughout the Torah.  We start with Adam and Eve figuring out how to own their actions when they disobey God. We are similarly confronted with ownership of choices as Cain responds to God, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”  The first parshah of the Torah, which we read last week, focuses intently on the importance of owning our actions and decisions.

It is no surprise that in this week’s parshah, Parshat Noach, we are again faced with a society in need of a similar ownership over action.  Parshat Noach details the misbehaviors of the people who inhabit the earth.  We read about Noah as a beacon of hope among the despicable people of his town.  God instructs Noah to build the ark, put the animals on it, and escape destruction under God’s protection during the flood.  Noah’s story is capped off with a covenant between God and mankind to never again destroy the world, but the beauty of the rainbow is quickly tainted as we learn of the misdeeds committed by a new mankind in trying to reach up closer to God.

The story of Noah brings to light many questions about God’s actions and innate human behaviors.  Notably, why did God command Noah to build an ark and save himself, when surely our all-powerful God could have intervened directly and saved Noah, his family, and all the animals.  The Tanchuma suggests that perhaps God hoped the construction project would serve as a warning, moving onlookers to contemplate their actions.  Or perhaps Noah needed to participate hands-on in his own salvation in order to help save and rebuild mankind.  After all, doing is often the best way to learn.

Reading this narrative we see a fledgling society, deep in their “toddlerdom” if you will. Like my sweet Shiri, Noah and the people need to do it themselves in order to feel a sense of accomplishment.  As a parent, it’s easy to swoop in and help out our children when they’re frustrated, but perhaps their do-it-myself reaction stands as a reminder that we should act as God did and allow some (safe) trial and error.  

This week, let us consider the ephemeral nature of the rainbow. The sign of the covenant is fleeting, but the rewards from keeping promises and owning up to our actions leave a lasting mark.

Why I Believe in God – Parshat Bereshit 5776

Eve Posen1 Comment

Chaplain

During rabbinical school I spent one summer doing a unit of clinical pastoral education at a hospital in Michigan.  My reasoning for spending that time in a hospital setting was twofold. First, I needed to get over some of my fear of the hospital environment and learn how to bring the most comfort to the most vulnerable.  Second, I have long had a fascination with medicine, and this intensive program put me on overnight on-calls, trauma teams, and in the ICU standing right with the medical professionals.  This was a lifechanging experience for me on so many levels, but most notably with my belief in God.  

I was honored to be invited to sit in on an autopsy as the team worked to identify the cause of death.  I stood in the room with my colleague and watched as the professionals went to work.  To my amazement, their tools included a saw. Our bones are so hard and strong, they need the force of a heavy saw to cut open, and yet this woman died from bleeding caused by the tiniest pinhole tear.  In that instant I became truly aware of the complexities of the human body, the intricacies with which we are created.  In that moment I knew God existed.  In a sense, for me this was the beginning.

This week we read parshat Bereshit, the first portion of the Torah.  We begin again with our familiar story and move quickly from the days of creation through the narrative of Adam and Eve in the beautiful Garden of Eden to the first time someone challenged God.  From there we experience the narrative of Cain and Abel and the first explosive sibling rivalry.  The entire section of texts ends by careening us forward in time to the line of Noah.  

But we begin with the beginning.  “When God began to create heaven and earth, the earth being unformed and void with darkness over the surface of the deep…” The Torah begins with this sentence, acknowledging the beginning of all beginnings.  Rabbi Akiva, a Talmudic sage, taught, “Just as the existence of a house testifies to the builder and the existence of a garment testifies to the weaver, so the existence of the world testifies to God who fashioned it.”  

On the surface, Rabbi Akiva’s proof of God rests in the mere existence of the world, but what he is implying is that the divinity of the architecture is in the complexity of it. The beginning of my belief in God was that moment in the hospital.  I believe in God because I saw firsthand what unique systems and works of art our bodies are, and they are beyond anything my mind can consider creating. In that small, sterile basement room, I met God, and it was a moment that opened my eyes to a miracle which I cannot understand outside the realm of faith.

It’s not my job to persuade you to believe in God. As far as explanations go, you might take an approach that is purely divine, one that is purely scientific, or one that falls somewhere in between. Nevertheless, starting our year and our Torah cycle anew does compel us to see the world in a new light. However the story of creation resonates with you, in this new light may we find moments of belief, moments of clarity, and perhaps moments that acknowledge the presence of God in some way.