Simon Armitage has published a new translation of Gilgamesh, the 4,500 year-old epic about a wandering Babylonian hero and his encounter with a world that strikes us as strange.
“The genius
of the poem,” Armitage writes, “is that it conveys a sense of the protagonist’s
own uncertainty, so that every episode or scene feels as much of a revelation
to us as it does to Gilgamesh.”
It’s an idea
that applies remarkably well to Abraham who also, of course, begins his epic,
really our epic, this Shabbat.
Go, says
God, and Abraham goes.
Avram’s journey
is truly epic, filmic even. I wonder if Christopher Nolan might be interested.
Certainly, many of the episodes of Nolan’s version of the Odyssey and Armitage’s
version of Gilgamesh have echoes and resonances in our Biblical epic. Not least
on this fascinating point of the uncertainly haunting the protagonist.
There is, in
the Genesis epic, a famine and the fleeing from famine, there’s a sibling dispute
and a kidnapping and a military campaign and visions inspired by God and
burning sacrifices with לַפִּ֣יד אֵ֔ש – fiery torches and the desperate attempt to find a way to
pass on an inheritance. And throughout it all, you can feel Abraham’s uncertainty
- the protagonist’s own uncertainty, so that every episode or scene feels as
much of a revelation to us as it does to him – even after having read this epic
so so many times.
Abraham is
sometimes, particularly by the Danish Christian theologian Kierkegaard, as magnificently
assured and confident in his heroism, but that’s not how he comes across to me.
There are two
moments in this week’s reading that … well I bump on them.
Perhaps the
hardest part to read – for those of us who wish to look up to Avram as an
inspiring hero is his relationship with Sarai, his wife.
There’s a
time when, fleeing famine Avram goes down to Egypt and, worried that the
Egyptians will see his wife, Sarai, and think her so beautiful that they will
kill him to get her, suggests that they agree to pretend that Sarai is his
sister - לְמַ֙עַן֙ יִֽיטַב־לִ֣י בַעֲבוּרֵ֔ךְ - so it will go well for me [Avram] because of
you. And that dishonesty results in Sarai being taken off to be a, it seems for
a while, a plaything for Pharoah. God steps in to protect Sarai’s honour, but
it’s uncomfortable. And to make matters worse, there’s a similar episode in
next week’s reading also.
And then the
moment recorded in the sixth Aliyah
God speaks to Abraham and says, be not afraid אָנֹכִי֙
מָגֵ֣ן לָ֔ךְ שְׂכָרְךָ֖ הַרְבֵּ֥ה מְאֹֽד׃
I - God - am your
shield your reward will be mighty.
Which sounds
great.
And Abraham
responds,
What have you got to give me? I’m going to die under a curse,
my house-servant will succeed me. You, God, haven’t given me an heir.
Avram comes
across as unsure of his footing, flawed, nervous.
וַיְהִ֤י
הַשֶּׁ֙מֶשׁ֙ לָב֔וֹא וְתַרְדֵּמָ֖ה נָפְלָ֣ה עַל־אַבְרָ֑ם וְהִנֵּ֥ה אֵימָ֛ה
חֲשֵׁכָ֥ה גְדֹלָ֖ה נֹפֶ֥לֶת עָלָֽיו׃
And behold the sun was coming and a deep sleep fell on Avram
and a fear, a great darkness fell on him.
I mean,
there’s some magnificent stuff to come but this week the claim that Avram is a
great Knight of Faith rings a little hollow.
Maybe we
have things backwards and maybe we are thinking of the wrong thing when it
comes to thinking about what it means to be a hero.
I think,
when we think of a hero, we think of someone resolute and unflinching, bulldozing
through any molehills that might have the temerity to rise up in their way.
But wonder
if we might be better off with a different model.
Kol
HaOlam Kulo, we sing
in the name of Rebbe Nachman, Gesher Tzar Meod – the whole world is a
very narrow bridge and the main thing to recall is to have no fear at all.
Or rather –
if you look up the original source of the famous song – Likeutei Moharan 2:48,
Rebbe Nachman puts it this way;
וְדַע,
שֶׁהָאָדָם צָרִיךְ לַעֲבֹר עַל גֶּשֶׁר צַר מְאֹד מְאֹד
Know that a human has to cross over a very, very narrow
bridge.
וְהַכְּלָל
וְהָעִקָּר – שֶׁלֹּא יִתְפַּחֵד כְּלָל
And the main thing, the essence is to not to Yitpachad
– it’s reflexive for those of us following the grammar – the essence is not to
let yourself become frightened.
The broader
context of the original quote in Likkeutei Mehoran is fascinating and I’m
grateful to Rabbi Jeremy Schwartz for doing some really moving work on the
original Rebbe Nachman material that I’ve been able to use.[1]
When a person begins in the service of God, Rebbe Nachman
teaches, that journey begins with a feeling of distance – a הִתְרַחֲקוּת - It seems to them that they
are being distanced from on high and that they are being altogether prevented
from entering into the service of God.
We see this,
says Rebbe Nachman, from all the Tzaddikim – he doesn’t explicitly mention Avram
in this week’s parasha, but he could have.
וְצָרִיךְ
לִהְיוֹת עַקְשָׁן גָּדוֹל
And one needs to be extremely stubborn not to get distracted
from the task לִבְלִי לְהָנִיחַ אֶת מְקוֹמוֹ
Heroism
begins, suggests Rebbe Nachman, not with certainty, but in distance and fear and
the essential quality of the hero is not confidence but refusing to give up on
feeling that the journey from where they are now to where they want to be is
necessary.
That goes
for Odysseus, for Gilgamesh, for Avram, for Rebbe Nachman and for me and you
too.
שֶׁהָאָדָם
צָרִיךְ לַעֲבֹר עַל גֶּשֶׁר צַר מְאֹד מְאֹד
I wonder if
that’s a way to understand Ben Zoma’s famous line in Pirkei Avot
Eizo Hu Gibor – who is a hero
HaKovesh et Yitzro – the one who conquers their inclination.[2]
What’s the
inclination that needs to be conquered? That niggling sense we all suffer from,
from Avram onwards, that it might not be worth bothering, that we can’t really
make a difference, that we might just as well stay at home and give up.
That read of
Ben Zoma certainly describes the efforts of my own Yetzer Hara – inclination towards
evil. My own Yetzer Hara doesn’t spend much time encouraging me to be actively
bad – I’m not easily tempted towards being actively bad, most of the time. It
just distracts me with feelings of impotence in the face of the challenges of my
personal epic journey through life. It tells me, ach, don’t bother, give up,
just scroll through another couple of minutes of cat videos or miserable
prognostications about the state of the world.
But when I’m
at my best – at my most heroic – I’m not distracted by this kind of self-imposed distancing from my task in life –
my הִתְרַחֲקוּת. I feel an excitement about the journey, about the possibility
of doing things to make my life better, to make the lives of the people I care
about better, to make the circles in which I move better and the society and,
please God, even the world, better.
I get on and
do things. I try to cross narrow bridges.
And here’s
the really exciting thing about trying to be this kind of a hero, about conquering
that inner voice that tempts us into giving up, worrying about doing things
rather than doing them, or just scrolling our lives away.
It works.
Rebbe
Nachman puts it this way
Know [that] each time you detach and shift just a bit from
materialism to the Blessed One's service, all the movements and changes
accumulate, combine and bind together, and come to your aid at a time of need.
Oliver, you
crossed a narrow bridge today – I don’t know if you were wracked by doubts
about whether you could indeed pull of a magnificent Bar Mitzvah – it certainly
never felt you were. In fact the ease with which you traversed the challenge of
today might make a person think you haven’t taken on a mighty challenge – you definitely
took on a mighty challenge.
And thing
thing I hope, now you are on the other side of that particular challenge, is
that you feel the things we should all
feel on the other sides of the successfully completed challenges of our lives;
heroic, powerful and ready for what comes next.
For there
will be challenges to come, very narrow bridges to cross, and the most
important thing is not to give up, to remember that Avram never gave up and to remember
that back in the days when you became an adult in the eyes of God and the
people of Israel and this community and your amazing family, pushing on, taking
on challenges and rising to them, was worth it.
May we all,
always feel the same,
Shabbat
Shalom
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment