Georgia on my Mind

The Jewish highlight of my recent trip to Georgia was this gold amulet, from Shevtitkoshveli, now in the National Museum. The amulet, perhaps 5cm tall, is dated to the 5^th Century - that makes it as old as the Talmud. It contains the wish that God should, ‘Drive out the evil spirits and make firm the just act. In the name of [a slew of] angels I seal and bind the evil spirit that there shall be over Abraham the son of Sarah no sorcery, evil spirit, or devil or anything like a devil.’ ‘Just as,’ the amulet reads, ‘long ago God fulfilled God’s word to Abraham [the patriarch’, so too God should always be the guardian God [for Abraham son of Sarah, owner of the amulet, and his family].'

Amulets form no part of my contemporary Jewish existence, but the wishes that the just act be, ‘made firm,’ that no evil spirit, ‘or anything like’ an evil spirit,’ touch Abraham or his family are wishes I recognise. Equally, I’m moved by the turn to God’s relationship with the ‘original’ Abraham. I turn this way also.

In Judaism, things change while revealing an inner consistency. Looking at this scrap of gold, I feel closer to this 5^th century Jew of the trans-Caucasus than I would have imagined. But I wonder how he - Abraham son of Sarah - would consider me; a Rabbi who writes no amulets, a Rabbi whose theology doesn’t even recognise literal revelation, let alone literal angels, one who reads not only Torah, but also Philip Roth, and even - heaven forefend - non-Jewish authors.

My sense is that it’s easier to feel connected to a past than a future. It’s easy to look back and feel a certain inevitable evolution brings us to our present. Meanwhile pitching ourselves towards the future feels unstable and awkward. It’s a reflection that occurs to me this week particularly. I’m being honoured next Shabbat (9^th June) with a kiddush in honour of my decade of service at New London. Thank you. I’m aware of how our community has changed, and I’m particularly aware of how easy it is to look variously backwards and forwards with feelings of connection or even disconnection. I’m going to take the opportunity, next Shabbat, to look as honestly as I can at where we are, and where we might be headed. I’m proud of my work for this community. Frankly, you’ve had the very best effort I could bring to this sacred calling, but I know, also, that there are those who have struggled with this journey, and I hope to address these concerns also.

I do hope you will take that opportunity to join me.