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| The Gold Coast Spit, one of several sites proposed for a cruise ship terminal |
Paradise
Lost?
A Drash for
Friday, 18 January 2013
Many
inhabitants of our Gold Coast, perhaps some in this room tonight, go out of
their way to talk up their little corner of the world as being a paradise of
beauty. And indeed the beauty of the
Gold Coast is sometimes
stunning. The interplay of sunshine,
water, and subtropical flora create a lovely environment indeed. But of course we have to acknowledge that it
is far from pristine. I was out on the Broadwater
last weekend and was sometimes a bit disgusted at the degree, to which we have
failed in our stewardship of our natural environment.
It is easy to shrey gevalt over what we have done to
our planet, and perhaps we should! I’m
not saying that we should decry that it is not in its pristine state. But anybody with eyes and a soul must
acknowledge that we have done a poor job of preserving the best of our
earth. That we have left our mark is not
the shame. It is that we have left our
mark far in excess of what would have been necessary, given the benefit we’ve
derived from our planet. And often with
no acknowledgement of what we’ve lost in the process.
And I’m not talking about Global
Warming, or Anthropomorphic Climate Change as it is now popularly called. Look, one has to have his head buried in the
sand to fail to acknowledge that the earth is experiencing a gradual
warming. It’s no hoax that the polar ice
caps are receding. Here in Australia,
where we’re now experiencing a particularly hot summer and the fires of
consequence are interrupting thousands of lives with death and destruction,
this warming is easy to see. The hoax is
not the climate change itself. The hoax
is the placing its cause at the feet of our production of carbon dioxide. The hoax is ignoring the earth’s history of
warming and cooling, events which occurred even before we burned fossil fuels
in large amounts. Events which the earth
survived even if they changed it.
Look, Greenland is not very green; we all know that. In fact, one of the scares being mongered
over Global Warming, is that Greenland will probably again be green, rather
than the frozen wasteland that it is now.
And my answer is, so what? If Greenland was green recently enough to
earn its name, then its returning to that state in the current climate shift is
not a tragedy. Should we so radically
change the way that we live, so as to shut down industries and throw millions
and more out of work, displacing untold numbers of workers and changing our way
of life, out of fear for this? I think
not. So I’m not the alarmist, seeing the
world as we know it as being in a free-falling meltdown because of the latest
climate shift, and needing the strongest possible medicine to prevent it.
That said, we can and should
become better stewards of our earth. The
more we abuse the planet, the more we hamper our enjoyment of its beauty. The orthodoxy that carbon dioxide is going to
kill us off by roasting our planet alive is largely without basis. But that does not call into question the need
to take better care of the earth.
Although the ‘minor’ festival of
Tu B’Shvat is a week away, I’ve been thinking about these things as I prepare
to once more celebrate what has become a sort of Jewish ‘Earth Day.’ The point of celebrating Tu B’Shvat is to
refocus on how we use, and misuse our natural resources. It is to motivate us to decide not to waste,
and take positive steps to curb our wasting.
I keep using the word ‘orthodoxy.’ The problem with environmentalism is that it
has become tantamount to an orthodox religion with its own inviolate
ideology. Science in general today, has
become a slave to ideologies. Environmental
science and climatology epitomise this.
And this tends to obscure the truth that the quality of life on earth is
something largely in our hands. It is up
to us to transcend the orthodoxy now being enforced upon the academic and
political practice of the natural sciences, while nevertheless advocating the
taking of sensible steps to protect our environment. And those steps do not require a totalitarian
regime that would dictate to people how they are to live.
When the extremes are so passionately
guarded and held, the middle ground becomes difficult to claim and hold. We see this again and again in the public
debate over the Big Issues of contemporary life. And it is certainly true in the case of the
debate over the environment. We see it
manifest locally in the ongoing argument over whether to develop a cruise ship
terminal here on the Gold Coast. Clearly
this is an issue which elevates local passions.
Every week when I open the local newspaper, most of the letters to the
editor are on the subject. So clearly we
care about our environment and acknowledge that our ultimate well-being is caught up in the degree to which we
take care of it, or fail to.
And Tu B’Shvat? Let it be a reminder of the principle that
our Tradition teaches: that we should be
good stewards of the world to which we’ve been entrusted. But even as most of us in this room avoid
orthodoxy in our expression of religion, let us avoid orthodoxy in our
positioning ourselves in the various disputes over how to protect the
environment. Let’s try hard to be
reasonable, and to inject reason into the debate. Let’s do what we can, to change Paradise Lost into Paradise Reclaimed. Shabbat
shalom.
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| Moses confronts Pharaoh, from the film 'The Ten Commandments' |
Sympathy for
the Devil?
A Drash for
Saturday, 19 January 2013
In all the
conflicts that have ever raged between peoples over the history of the world,
there has always been more than enough suffering to go around. When political rulers decide to go to war, we
don’t usually see the ruling class as suffering to the same degree as the
common person. We tend to express a
certain degree of schadenfreude over
the fall of leaders, no matter how gruesome their end. I didn’t expect any sympathy to be expressed
when Saddam Hussein was hanged after a very public trial, and I heard
none. Saddam was, after all unrepentant
and made a show of publicly proclaiming himself to still be the rightful ruler
of Iraq. When fellow madman Muammar Kaddafi
was lynched by a mob during his downfall years later, I head no expression of
sympathy even then. And perhaps none was
due.
Not long ago, I saw the movie, Nuremberg,
about the trial of Nazi leaders who survived the Second World War. Nuremberg
was of the genus we call ‘docu-drama.
That is, it was played up more
than a ‘straight’ documentary but made with effort to adhere to historical
accuracy. The one glaring inaccuracy was
Hermann Goering’s surrender with his family to the wing commander at a US air
base followed by hijinks with the American airmen. The screen writers clearly intended this bit
of dramatic excess to establish Goering early as an unsympathetic character. All the leading Nazis on trial, save Speer,
come off as unsympathetic. They proclaim
their loyalty to Hitler and the Nazi ideology to the end. They admit no regret over the suffering of
the German people, and the evil crimes committed against Jews and other
persecuted minorities in Germany and occupied Europe. The only regret they express is over their
failure to win the war and therefore secure the Thousand Year Reich.
Because the leaders seldom find it within themselves to express regret,
the common man often does not. But the
leaders could have opposed an
ideology and actions that were wrong.
And the common man also could have.
And to be sure, many did. And
because they largely suffered and died in obscurity, they largely escape our
notice. That’s why the developers of Yad Vashem, the museum and memorial to
the Shoah in Jerusalem, established the Avenue of the Righteous and the Garden
of the Righteous. The message is that
people did stand up, and often
suffered personally, but they made a difference.
Anyway, I was thinking about Nuremberg
this week while I reflected about how we read the story of the Exodus from
Egypt.
At the typical Passover Seder, one doesn’t hear a lot of sympathy for the
unnamed Pharaoh of the story. He is
portrayed as completely obstinate and evil.
He is portrayed as bringing down the Wrath of G-d on the people of Egypt
because of his stubbornness regarding the people Israel. Thanks to the way he’s portrayed, we would be
forgiven if we thought that he was so demented as to define his rule over Egypt
by his treatment of the Israelites.
After all, that’s how we define
his rule.
But the truth is, at the Seder one also doesn’t hear a lot of sympathy
offered to the Egyptian people who surely were not all evil. They suffered the plagues of G-d, up to and
including the smiting of the firstborn of each house, because of the Pharaoh’s
stubbornness. And yes, I know the part about
the spilling out of the ten drops of wine to show our sympathy with the
suffering of the Egyptians. This is
supposed to show that our joy at our own deliverance is tempered by our
acknowledging the suffering of the Egyptian people. I don’t know about you, but I never hear a
lot of sympathy in the gleeful shouting out of the plagues – Dam!
Tzefardea! Kinim! – against the
Egyptians.
And this is not a criticism that, on our most joyous festival, we find it
difficult to muster much sympathy toward the Egyptian people. The Passover Seder is supposed to be an emotion-driven event. On the other hand, it’s good that we read the
narrative of the events that we celebrate on the festival, a couple of months
earlier. We can read the story more dispassionately
and reflectively. We can consider
aspects to the story that are lost in the glee that we work so hard to foster
when we gather on the 14th and 15th of Nissan.
So now, this week, as we read the Torah portion that recounts the birth
of the people Israel, we can do so with sympathy toward the people of Egypt,
and even toward the Pharaoh. What’s that you say, Rabbi? I should have sympathy for the Devil??!
Okay, okay! I’m looking at your
faces and I see you’re still not buying!
Let me try again…
There is a reality that our destinies result largely from the chain of
decisions we make. Of course, there are
elements over which we have no control.
Those who are born to privilege tend to succeed out of proportion with
others. The children of musicians tend
to become gifted musicians in their own right.
But more telling, the children of celebrities achieve celebrity even
when they lack talent or possess it only in marginal degree. Chelsea Clinton has been characterised as a
singularly uninspiring TV journalist, but given her famous parentage she’ll
probably never lack employment in that field, or any other of her choice,
unless she chooses obscurity.
And the opposite is also true; the children of failures too often grow up
to fail. The children of alcoholics tend
to become alcoholic. The children of
abusers tend to grow up to abuse. We all
know this. And we all know that,
therefore, the world is not fair.
But we also know that each child born, no matter how humble or depressing
their circumstances, has the power to transcend their beginnings and achieve
greatness. Figure after figure in
history rose from obscurity to make a tremendous impact on the world, and often
for the better. And the fact that not
every one of the humble-born achieves this, does not negate the possibility. This possibility is behind the outrage when a
child experiences trauma or is killed.
It’s not only the sense of that child’s innocence of whatever the
assailant’s complaint, although that surely is an element. But more than that is the sense that each
child whose life is ended prematurely could have grown up to achieve greatness. Yet we’ll never know. W heard this so much in the hand-wringing that
followed Adam Lanza’s recent killing spree in Sandy Hook Elementary School.
So even though we grouse about the unfairness of life, we acknowledge
that each one of us is born with unlimited potential. But over time, that potential is either
realised or hampered largely by the decisions we make. For
example, the girl who becomes pregnant as a teenager, is almost certainly not
going on to become a physicist or physician.
While other young adults are studying and expanding their horizons, she’s
changing diapers. And this is not to belittle
the enterprise of child-rearing. It’s
just to acknowledge that it’s a full-time job, precluding the young mother from
many other pursuits. Except for the very rare young woman with the pluck and
energy to pursue a doctorate while wiping runny noses.
And other decisions we make, also impact negatively on our later
possibilities. A convicted criminal can
serve his time and turn his life around, but he won’t be elected
president. Or sheriff. It just doesn’t happen. So, by choosing to engage in criminality, the
young man may have deprived the world of a great leader.
These are obviously examples that are exaggerations. Most of us eschew greatness simply by
embracing mediocrity. We spend our lives
pursuing relatively inconsequential pleasures and entertainments, when we could
have focused on bigger things.
So what does this have to do with Pharaoh and the Egyptians? Only everything…
This week’s Torah reading records that G-d hardened Pharaoh’s heart, in
order to make a point. For the people
Israel to achieve the dramatic deliverance, and for them and the world to
acknowledge the superiority of their G-d, it was necessary to humble Pharaoh
and his entire nation. Look, the common
man is often a pawn of capricious powers, but the idea of the G-d of Israel
being such a capricious manipulator is supremely distasteful.
But the truth is likely something quite different. The combination of Pharaoh’s upbringing, and
the decisions he makes along the way, strongly influence him to stubbornly
refuse to let the Israelites go. Even
when his advisors chide him, telling him ‘Egypt is lost,’ he is unwilling to
give in enough to stave of destruction for his people. Thanks to a combination of upbringing and his
own will, Pharaoh’s choices narrow to the point where he really has very little
choice in the matter. The author of this
Torah text was intent on chronicling events, but was likely not very
sophisticated in understanding their causality.
That’s why now, as we read this passage, weeks before the hubbub of our
Passover Seders, we can feel some regret over Pharaoh’s narrowness. We can even feel some sympathy towards the embattled king of Egypt. And even more toward Egypt as a whole.
We can see, if we so choose, all of Egypt as guilty and deserving of
whatever suffering they experienced.
This, in the way that Daniel Goldhagen indicted the entire German nation
of being Hitler’s Willing Executioners. The Germans don’t deserve a complete
exoneration any more than the Ancient Egyptians do. There are consequences when one people
oppresses another. Each one of us must
stand before G-d and take account for the choices we’ve made that have hurt
others. So, too the Egyptians and
Germans. But one has to be unfeeling, if
one is to refuse to acknowledge their humanity and the loss they experienced.
If you listen to me this morning, you will feel some identification with
the Egyptian people today even if not necessarily at your Passover table in
March. And if so, so what?
Well, the so what is this. Let’s acknowledge that Pharaoh, while not
terribly meritorious, was not evil personified.
Sympathy for Pharaoh is ultimately not
tantamount to sympathy for the Devil.
Let’s acknowledge that he ultimately made a string of decisions that narrowed
his choices going forward. Let’s
acknowledge that there was a tragic element of his behaviour: both for himself and for his people. In so acknowledging, we come to understand, a
little better, the power of our decisions.
We come to understand that we ultimately choose our destiny. We come to understand our freedom of choice,
and the consequences of our choices.
Just as the Pharaoh made a series of choices that he probably lived to
regret, so too we find ourselves sometimes regretting the results of our
choices. The narrowing of our destinies
is clearly not as dramatic as that of Pharaoh.
But still, we often deprive ourselves of the potential of greatness by
choosing less. For most of you hearing
my words today, it is probably too late.
But you have the power to influence younger souls. You have the ability to make them understand the greatness that is in
their own hands to achieve. That’s the importance of this lesson. May we take it to heart. Shabbat shalom.
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