Thursday, February 13, 2014

What's Your Golden Calf? A Drash for Parashat Ki Tissa, Saturday 15 February 2014

Idolatry.  The very word conjures up images of statues to which people – idolaters – bow down and worship.  The idea is very foreign to us, to say the least.  Most Jews – or non-Jews for that matter – in this day and age cannot imagine bowing down to, and worshipping a statue or other representation of the Holy.  It just isn’t attractive to us, on any level.
          Yes, we may know that there are other religions around that use statues, icons, and other kinds of physical images to represent the Holy.  We may know that Catholic Churches, shrines and even homes are full of statuary.  We may know that Eastern Orthodox Christians fill their churches, shrines and homes with painted icons, usually set in very ornate frames.  We may know that Buddhist temples, shrines and homes usually have a statue of a pot-bellied Buddha displayed prominently.  But have you ever discussed the how’s and whys of using these images with an educated Catholic, Eastern Orthodox or Buddhist?  If so, you learned that these are just representations used to help the believer visualise the Holy.  They are objects of veneration, not worship.  This sounds like subtle wordplay, but I don’t believe it is.  We Jews do not make any images to represent the Holy, because our Tradition forbids it.  But we understand that other traditions are looser in this area.  Yet, this does not mean that those other traditions are, by definition, idolatrous.  They’re just different.
          So, other religious traditions use various kinds of images.  But their adherents do not necessarily believe that those images truly are gods.  We Jews, therefore, have more in common than we might think with our neighbours whose religions are more visually expressive.  Really, I’m guessing that few of us have any attraction for the practice of idolatry.  As least, for the notion of idolatry that involves cultic worship of objects.
          If that’s so, then what are we to learn from this week’s Torah reading, concerning the Golden Calf?  If we have no desire to craft one, and worship it, what is supposed to be our take-away from this chapter of Torah?  Let me put it differently.  When the Torah prohibits specific acts, we can assume that, in its time, the prohibited act held a popular attraction for the people Israel.  So, the Torah is insistent about avoiding idolatry.  And yet, we would be hard-pressed to find a Jew for whom idolatry is attractive.  Does that mean that we’ve advanced beyond this attraction?  Should we be patting ourselves on the back because we do not see statues as gods, and pour out libations to them?
          Much as I think that we should see ourselves as deserving an occasional pat on the back, I don’t think that we rate it in this case.  Because idolatry is still very much alive and well, including amongst us Jews.  But it is a more difficult form of idolatry to recognise, than the statue-worship of the ancient past.
          Idolatry, by definition, means to attach salvific powers to some material object.  In other words, to look upon something as having the power to ‘save’ you.  From falling into the abyss.  From a future of oblivion.  From an unhappy life.  We don’t look to statues, and worship them, so that they would save us in this way.  But we still practice idolatry.  We call it something else:  materialism.
          Some of us think of materialism as an impulse to collect stuff.  But what it really is, is something more.  It’s the deep-seated belief that stuff will make us happy.  Will save us from oblivion or falling into the abyss.  Will, in effect, ‘save’ us…from whatever it is that we fear.
          You’ve heard this from me before.  I can hear the rolling of eyes out there…even with my hearing loss!  But it’s something worth repeating, because it is such a common pitfall.  When we believe that something is going to bring us the life we yearn for, then we are engaging in idolatry.  Plain and simple.  The point of the Golden Calf narrative is not that the people felt a desire to craft a lovely and expensive object.  It’s that, once it was crafted, the people proclaimed:  This, Israel, is your God, who brought you out of Egypt.
          Asceticism has never been popular among Jews.  Common among our people is a work ethic and drive to get ahead.  These have resulted in success after success among Jews, even in times and places where our very existence has been precarious.  Successful Jews have historically displayed a strong tendency to philanthropy, generously supporting causes both internal and external to the Jewish community.  But we’ve also internalised that there is no shame whatsoever in enjoying the fruit of one’s wealth with whatever possessions one desires.  Whether it’s ornate and well-furnished homes, expensive automobiles, fine dining, holidays abroad, salon and spa indulgences, whatever!  Jews generally do not criticise one another for their conspicuous consumption.  We don’t begrudge it of one another.  When one of us buys some new indulgence, how are other Jews likely to react?  By telling them:  “Use it in good health.”  Or, simply: “Enjoy!”  We simply take it for granted that it is natural to enjoy the fruits of our labours and success.  We only look askance at conspicuous spending by those who do not also support causes generously.
          So when I caution against materialism, I’m not suggesting that spending money on ourselves is in any way ‘sinful.’  I certainly counsel moderation in spending, avoiding the use of credit as much as possible, and making judicious economic choices.  But nothing in our tradition condemns us when we indulge ourselves a bit.
          When I caution against materialism, what I’m afraid of is the tendency to attach the assumption of salvific powers to material objects.  And sadly, we do it all the time.  If I only had that new sports car, I’d be happy.  All the women would flock to me and I’d never want for anything.  If I only had that diamond, I’d be satisfied.  I would know that my partner loves and cherishes me.  The pitfalls of thinking that stuff will bring you happiness, are two.  First, stuff never brings happiness.  It may bring some pleasure.  But never happiness.  So your quest to find happiness in stuff, is doomed to failure from the start.  The second pitfall is that, whilst you’re seeking happiness through stuff, that quest is deterring you from what really brings happiness.
          So maybe that’s the lesson we can draw from this week’s Torah reading, from the account of the Golden Calf.  I’m guessing that, for most of us in this room, there’s no particular attraction to building, and bowing down to, and worshipping through sacrifice and other acts of devotion, objects.  Statues and the like.  But the more subtle form of idolatry, the form that leads us to collect objects and believe that they will bring us happiness, is something that we do instinctively.  And it’s wrong.  But more importantly, it prevents us from achieving happiness.
          But it’s not only physical objects that can be idols for us.  Our emotions, our passions, can also be, in and of themselves, idols.  Think about it.  The Israelites built a Golden Calf.  And then they proclaimed it to be the God that led them out of Egypt.  And that proclamation – and the belief upon which they based that proclamation – formed an instant barrier between them and their True God.  In the same way, we form feelings towards one another.  Sometimes, those feelings are positive.  But often they are not.  And when they are not, they form barriers between us.  They stand in the way of what we see as the rational commitments that we owe one another.  I know I’m supposed to love you…but I’m so mad that I need to strike out at you.  Physically or as some other sort of expression of our will.  So we have a tendency to treat one another poorly.  Even though we know we’re not supposed to.  Because our emotions get the better of us.  And we cling to those emotions.  We cling to them, until they absolutely rule the way that we act.  To the point that we have no particular desire to step back from those emotions.  Let alone, know how to step back.
          Our emotions are what make us human.  But when we allow them to lead us to mistreat one another, then we have made idols of them.  We have become idolaters.  We have stepped away from the Jewish ideal, as much as we would have, had we crafted a Golden Calf and worshipped it.
          So I ask you this morning:  what is your Golden Calf?  Is it the stuff that you’ve gathered around you, in the hopes that it will bring you happiness?  Or is it the raw emotions that lead you to mistreat someone else, that is to treat them in a way you would find hurtful?  In either case, you would be practicing a form of idolatry.  And that would be unfortunate.  Because it would not be a very good statement about a Jew who identifies with God and the Torah.  And it will ultimately, not bring you happiness.  Idolatry, of whatever kind, will only bring you misery.  And you were not born to be miserable.  Shabbat shalom.

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