Pinhas
“There was a great and mighty wind, splitting mountains and
shattering rocks by the power of the Lord; but the Lord was not in the
wind. After the wind—an earthquake; but
the Lord was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake—fire; but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire—a still small voice.” (I Kings 19:11-12)
These words were first spoken to the prophet Elijah. God is not found in the grand and majestic,
the awesome and even terrible. God is
instead found in the quiet, in the ordinary, in the unexpected. God is found in what we must strain to hear. Each of us holds on to a thread found within
our tradition. And this verse continues
to serve as my thread.
These words also form the concluding words of this week’s
Haftarah. The connection between the
Torah and Haftarah is clear. Our Torah
portion begins by recounting the deeds of Pinhas who was so zealous in his
faith in God that he killed a fellow Israelite who had sexual relations with a
Midianite woman. It is a harrowing
story. Elijah is, as well, given to violence. He slaughters 450 prophets of Baal on Mount
Carmel.
This summer we again studied with Israel Knohl, the chair of
Hebrew University’s Bible department. He
began his lecture by reading from the words of Mohammad Atta (y”s). He offered this as a modern illustration that
monotheism is given to such violence.
Because it is adamant that there is only one God it promotes the destruction
of other gods and occasionally, or perhaps too often, their worshippers. Monotheism is ruthless. It was a harrowing
lesson.
The Torah portion reports that Pinhas was rewarded for his
zealousness. “It shall be for him and
his descendants after him a pact of priesthood for all time, because he took
impassioned action for his God.” (Numbers 25:13) Yet I still offer the ancient priests’ words
when blessing a bar/bat mitzvah student, a wedding couple or a newborn
baby. I bless my own children each and
every Shabbat with these words. Likewise
it is the people’s response to Elijah’s actions with which we conclude our Yom
Kippur prayers. “The Lord alone is our
God! The Lord alone is our God!” (I
Kings 18:39)
Each of us must hold on to a thread of our tradition. Too often we discard others. Every summer I return to Jerusalem in order
to confront those threads that I toss aside.
With good reason one might respond.
Yet the faith of the Shalom Hartman Institute and in particular its
founder and my rabbi, David Hartman, is that the tapestry will not unravel if I
pull and tug on these other threads. Too
often we hold on to a single thread as if it were a heavy anchor line.
We say, this alone is my faith. We refuse to look at other threads. We believe, that our faith is only our own
story. It is only this verse. The other day we met with a leader of Ateret
HaKohanim, a group that helps buy property to settle Jews in the Old City’s
Moslem Quarter. He argued that Jews
should be allowed to live in each and every corner of the land of Israel and in
particular the city of Jerusalem. He
offered threads from our tradition as proof for his position. Some of my colleagues argued with him,
offering different threads, expertly citing texts from rabbinic writings that
supported their positions. Neither side
convinced the other. Everyone holds on
to his thread as if it were an anchor line that can hold a weighty ship in
place.
There is in fact no such heavy line. All are mere
threads. Israel Knohl teaches that the
Bible is a divine symphony. Its many
different voices are threaded together.
The faith that I renew here is not the attachment to this or that thread
but instead the belief that each and every idea must be challenged. Every accepted answer must be
questioned. It is exhausting to be sure,
but I return believing that we are stronger for it. I have learned from my teachers a courage
that the tapestry will never unravel even if I tug and pull at this thread or
another.
This year we do not read the Haftarah describing Elijah’s
deeds. Because this coming Shabbat falls
a few days after the 17th of Tammuz, the day that recounts the
beginning of the destruction of Jerusalem, we read instead the words of the
prophet Jeremiah. This prophet proclaims
to a broken people and a destroyed Jerusalem: “Surely, futility comes from the
hills,/Confusion from the mountains./Only through the Lord our God/Is
there deliverance for Israel.” (Jeremiah 3:22)
Despite the brokenness standing before him, the prophet’s
faith can never unravel. That is my
faith as well. My faith is this alone.
The tapestry can never be unraveled.