Shabbat Miketz
Written by Sandra Kviat Tuesday, 11 December 2007
Last week I wrote a sermon about the dark future of the planet’s eco-balance and the overwhelming odds we are facing. The main thrust of the sermon was the importance of every individual and how Pirkei Avot teaches us that that opting out because you cannot see the end of the work is not an option: “You are not required to finish the job, but neither are you allowed not even to begin it (Avot 2,21).
In the days since I wrote that sermon, however, I have felt uneasy. The uneasiness comes from the question, what can and should we do as rabbinical students? As people who go to all corners of England I wonder whether we have a special duty.
I was inspired by a sermon by Rabbi Neal Joseph Loevinger of Massachusetts called: “Don’t Just Stand There – Do Something!” Rabbi Loevinger focus on the last phrase in Genesis 42:1. It is part of the passage in which Jacob, realizing that there is food in Egypt, says to his ten sons,
למה תתראו? . . . יש שבר במצרים רדו שמה ושברו לנו משם ונחיה ולא נמות.
“Why are you looking [like that]? There are provisions in Egypt; go down and provide for us from there, that we may live and not die.'" (Gen. 42:1–2). “
The word תתראו is problematic to translate. It could also mean: why do you keep looking at one another?
The famine that Pharaoh dreamt of but could not interpret without Joseph’s help had begun and it reached all the way up to Israel. Jacob is asking the sons to leap into action and help save the family.
S’forno interprets the verb to mean: why are you looking at each other, pointing to the dynamics of the brothers. Loevinger asserts that it is a basic human tendency to ignore or deny problems, hoping that they will go away. He adds that, “each brother expected his fellow” to go and get the food they needed.
Famine is not something that usually happens over night. It is a disaster that slowly evolves over time, allowing each person to hope and expect somebody else to take the lead and act on the problem. It allows for people to hope that tomorrow will bring better news, that somebody else will do something about it. It is part of a cycle of procrastination and denial until it is too late to take effective action, as Rabbi Loevinger points out.
We do not have to go to sleep and receive warnings in our dreams about hardships to come. In every newspaper and on television we have been and are still being bombarded with warnings: The ecological balance of the planet is in jeopardy. Some say it is already too late, some say it is just around the corner and some say that we might still be able turn the tide. Like Joseph’s brothers it is easy to "look at each other," hoping for somebody else to rise to the challenge and act in order to address the problem on the horizon.
Rabbi Loevinger suggests that this paralysis or procrastination on behalf of the brothers could also be a cover for another emotion: a cover for fear. Joseph’s brothers could be looking to each other out of fear of having to confront their communal secret: the selling of Joseph into slavery to Egyptians in chapter 37.
My question today is then: Are we looking to each other? What are we afraid of?
We have to look at how we live our lives today. Changing the eco-balance is not just about switching to eco light bulbs or buying organic food. It is about reviewing and challenging how and what we consume.
Are we afraid of what would happen if we have to face not our past but our present? Indirectly we have a responsibility. The problem, however, is not simple – and neither will the solution be. Changes in our consumerism will affect more than the eco-balance. It will also affect the countries that produce cheap products. We all know that there are no easy solutions to the intricate problems we face today.
Is Loevinger then right when he writes that our real problem is fear of taking responsibility and fear of the truth? Is his conclusion our conclusion that
We can "look at each other" and evade the truth as long as we like, but eventually reality catches up with us. The other choice is clear: we can join together to “go down to Egypt and provide for ourselves”—that is, to take the risk of confronting the truth about whatever problem confronts us, “that we may live”.
Is that our conclusion as well?
What can we do in our privileged roles? We are warned about bringing politics onto the bima yet we feel we have an obligation to help the orphan and the widow – the marginalised in our societies. A simple slogan on Facebook about being more environmentally aware points at a possible answer: every single thing you do makes an impact. Everything is an opportunity.
I say this with a great deal of precaution but I think we have an obligation to consider that every single thing we do in the communities can make an impact. Every time we go into a community is an opportunity to join together, “that we may live”.
