Three times this week I have been asked how to handle being angry with G-d. This week’s portion provided a possible answer. At least mine.
Today’s Torah portion is named Tzav because it is the first key word. Many times the Torah says, “Vaydeber adonai el moshe la’mor. And G-d spoke to Moses saying,,.” Our book, Eiz Chayyim translates this as “said to Moses saying” two forms of the same verb, but the Hebrew is actually two different verbs with very similar meanings. This phrase appears so often it doesn’t really count. Therefore, Tzav is the first key word and the name of our portion.
“Tzav! Command! Don’t just speak. Order them! Command them! It is from the same root as mitzvah, commandment.
This is a very strong word. What does it mean to command? What is a commandment? It is not just, “tell them.” or “speak to them.” It has an edge. You better do this. Or else! Or else? Or else what?
The portion then goes on to describe in exacting detail how the Israelite priests should offer sacrifices. That’s what is being commandment. A system of ways to reach closer to G-d. Drawing close to G-d is the goal of religion, from the Latin word religio to tie back up into. It provides a framework. If the priests sacrifice the korban, the sacrifice described the community will be right with G-d, will draw close to G-d. Korban has the same root as close, k-r-v/
If you do x, then I, G-d will do y. It is a covenantal relationship. We read the paragraph after the V’ahavta from Deuteronomy 11 earlier. It lays it all out. “Keep, therefore, all the Instruction that I enjoin upon you today, so that you may have the strength to enter and take possession of the land that you are about to cross into and possess,” You’ll have rain in its season and eat to contentment. But if you stray, then watch out.
This is like an angry parent. It is a system that works. Maybe. Except when it stops functioning. And too often this kind of thinking leads to a blame the victim mentality. Even if you follow all the rules, you may not get the life you think you deserve. People who promote what as known as “prosperity gospel” are particularly prone to this line of thinking. You are destined for goodness because G-d will provide it. If you do everything right and don’t go straying after strange g-ds. If you do, then you might get events like Katrina, 9/11 even the pandemic. We’ve all heard that kind of language, even recently. Perhaps especially recently.
More than once the Israelites have to re-invent themselves. When they are expelled from the Land of Israel by the Babylonians. Remember those great pieces of liturgy—If I forget thee O Jerusalem. And by the waters of babylon we sat down and wept. Then again during the Macabee days. Then again after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE.
One of my favorite stories is from Avot de Rabbi Natan, on page 68 in our siddur. Mourning the destruction of the Temple, two rabbis were wandering in the ruins. What could they do, without animal sacrifice to atone. The answer, deeds of lovingkindness is what G-d desires, not sacrifice.
So what happens if it is you? What if you have been the rule follower all your life? It doesn’t help to tell you that the world is not fair. Yet it’s not. It doesn’t necessarily help to look for explanations. In my own case, I don’t believe, for instance, that G-d is punishing me because of some commandment I didn’t follow. It also doesn’t seem to work to look at the demographics. Most people with myeloma are older black men over 70 who handled chemicals. That’s not me. It is maybe somewhat genetic, research is not clear. The doctors’ best guess. Bad luck. Would I like a better explanation? You bet.
So life isn’t fair.
It is OK to be angry with G-d. Go ahead, be angry. Scream it. Punch it. Cry it out. G-d is angry too.
Be angry that people are not being kind. Be angry that there are wildfires in Texas and earthquakes in Japan. Be angry that there is climate change. Be angry that rulers like Putin think so little of human beings and can’t see that all humans are created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d. Be angry that there are not enough slots for refugees in this country. Be angry that there are not enough mental health services in Kane County or elsewhere. Be angry that the health care system seems to be broken. Or the justice system. Or the educational system. Be angry that 25% of all kids go to bed in this country, with plenty of resources, hungry. That’s my list of what makes me angry.
You each probably have your own list of what makes you angriest these days. In the book Finding Joy, a simple introduction to Kabbalah, which we read together as a congregation several years ago, it tells us that anger is OK—the trick is to balance it. To channel it. To use that passion for good. The example in the book was about Alan who was angry at his long dead father for repeatedly beating him as a child. At his aged mother who didn’t stop the beatings. But he became a successful defense attorney because he refused to let anger control him. He believes that anger is a gift from G-d because it forces him to fight harder for the people who depend on him the most.
Ager is Alan’s Yetzer Hara, his evil inclination. He has channeled it to be more effective, production, successful and yes, even happier.
Alan, a modern day example was not alone. One of the founders of chassidut, Rabbi Levi of Berditchev, argued with G-d, using a very similar construction to Moses, demanded, commanded G-d:, It is a prayer of protest, “Din Torah mit Got” (a lawsuit with God) in which he asserts, “And I, Levi Yitzhak, son of Sarah Berditchev, say, from my stand I will not waver, and from place I shall not move until there be an end to this exile.”
That place he refused to move from. Ukraine. When did I learn about Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev? For my own Bat Mitzvah, this very quote I used in my Bat Mitzvah sermonette.
If Rabbi Levi Yitzhak can argue with G-d. If Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav can go out into the fields and pour out his heart to G-d, demanding, commanding that G-d listen, we can too.