Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Over the years I have noticed that when it comes to the recitation of the Shema prayer, most Jews readily chant the first paragraph of the Shema with enthusiasm. The first paragraph reads:

Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD alone! Therefore, you shall love the LORD, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength.  Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates (Deut. 6:4-9).

The recitation of the second and third paragraph of the Shema  generally fails to inspire the same kind of enthusiasm. Here is the passage in question:

“If, then, you truly heed my commandments which I enjoin on you today, loving and serving the LORD, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, I will give the seasonal rain to your land, the early rain and the late rain, that you may have your grain, wine and oil to gather in; and I will bring forth grass in your fields for your animals. Thus you may eat your fill. But be careful lest your heart be so lured away that you serve other gods and worship them. For then the wrath of the LORD will flare up against you and he will close up the heavens, so that no rain will fall, and the soil will not yield its crops, and you will soon perish from the good land he is giving you. “Therefore, take these words of mine into your heart and soul. Bind them at your wrist as a sign, and let them be a pendant on your forehead. Teach them to your children, speaking of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. And write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates, so that, as long as the heavens are above the earth, you and your children may live on in the land which the LORD swore to your fathers he would give them” (Deut. 11:13-21).

Simply put, actions matter. Actions have consequences. Moderns might feel uncomfortable with the carrot-and-stick approach of Deuteronomy, but its message is still nevertheless compelling.

Our scientific age is certainly far more sophisticated than anything the ancients might have imagined, yet the meaning of the second paragraph of the Shema conveys an idea that is surprisingly modern and contemporary.

An ecological appreciation of the world reveals that all life forms are interconnected. The old paradigm of Newtonian and Cartesian physics conceived of the world through the metaphor of the clock. The universe was once seen as  a set of simple systems that resembled a steady ticking pendulum. These systems, if disturbed, bore minor consequences for their behavior is correspondingly slight. Their movements seemed predictable and manageable in its very nature.

Now we have discovered that there are in a manner of speaking, clocks within clocks—exponentially . The inner workings of our world are so exquisitely sensitive to circumstance that even the smallest disturbance produces large and ever-growing changes in their behavior that are difficult to fully calculate.

The meteorologist Ed Lorenz observed while studying  the earth’s weather systems that the smallest variation in the input to his equations produced exponentially large deviations in the behavior of his solutions.  He referred to this cascade of changes as the “butterfly effect.”  Thus, a butterfly stirring the air with its wings in the African jungle today will generate consequences for the storm systems affecting Boston within three weeks. Since our knowledge about African butterflies is limited, detailed long-term weather forecasting will prove to be difficult to anticipate–but the effects are nevertheless in a perpetual state of causality. (By the way, this same kind movement can also be applied with respect to economics, as seen this past year’s gyrations of the stock market.)

Actions matter–and what applies to the realm of natural events especially applies to the moral events we as individuals make. With the recent BP oil spill disaster, we can see an ecological impact that effects not just the Gulf region, but ultimately the life-forms of the entire planet based on the principle of the butterfly-effect.

The Gulf of Mexico has been the home for tons of marine and aquatic life forms that are going to be drastically affected. According to one article,  the North Atlantic Bluefin Tuna, whales, dolphins, pelicans, oysters, shrimp, and blue crab. The Bluefin Tuna, which are famous for sushi, spawn in the Gulf of Mexico around mid-April to mid-June. Since the oil has been spewing into the waters where they hatch all throughout this time, they are now in danger of becoming extinct.

Marine animals like whales and dolphins not only live in the water, but need to surface to breathe. Therefore, the oil within the water is not the only threat to them. As they surface above the water to breathe the fresh air, the toxins that the oil gives off are inhaled.

The Brown Pelican recently came off the endangered species list in 2009 and is in grave danger yet again. Their breeding season is in the spring, during the spill, and their eggs are now incubating. The oil is posing a significant threat to this tropical bird.

When nature is injured and harmed by human greed, it will exert an economic impact on millions of people, whose livelihoods depend upon the ethical and mindful stewardship of their environment. The sea-food industry, for example, produces vast assortments of oysters, shrimp, and crab. Continue Reading

Have you ever wondered about the beginning of Genesis in the context of the three thousand years of pondering prompted by these seminal three chapters? It is hard to imagine a more enjoyable use of time than to join the “Timeless Theological Conversation” (subtitle) of Michael Samuel in his engagement with the likes of everyone from Plato through Pelagius and Augustine up to philosopher Derrida and literary theorist Bahktin—and countless more.

This magnificent interdisciplinary work will prompt, will compel, its reader to consider fundamental issues of the dynamic among text, self, and others within the context of cultures and time. These 439 pages (plus indices) deal superbly with  nothing less than everyone’s journey of “Birth and Rebirth” (title), a dialectic of visiting, re-visiting, and adding to the insights of any classic text.

Paul Borgman, Author of Genesis: The Story We Haven’t Heard

In one of the most famous Hassidic stories of the 19^th century, Martin Buber relates an anecdote about Rabbi Sheneir Zalman of Liadi, who was imprisoned on grounds of treason by the Russian government. In the exchange between the saintly rabbi and his interrogator, both of these men have a most remarkable encounter.

The old rabbi was once put in jail because the Mitnagdim (defenders of the status quo) had denounced his principles and way of living to the government. He was arrested and sent to St. Petersburg to stand trial for treason. The old rabbi stood accused of sending monies abroad to Israel, which was controlled by the Ottoman Empire, an enemy of Russia. As the very pious man stood in jail, he was very engrossed in meditation. He had hardly noticed the visitor, who happened to be a high-ranking official in the Russian government. He asked the Rebbe, “I have a question on the Bible, and would be most grateful to you if you could give me an adequate answer.”

The Rebbe said to him: “Ask whatever you would like, and with God’s help, I hope to be able to answer your problem.” “How are we to understand that God, the All-Knowing, said to Adam: ‘Where art thou?’ (after he ate the fruit and hid with Eve).” The Rebbe asked, “Do you believe that the Scriptures are eternal and forever relevant in any time and in any place?” The official said that he did.

The Rebbe replied: “The Torah tells us: ‘And God called to the Man [Adam]’ (Gen. 3:9). This teaches us that God speaks to every individual and asks him, ‘Where are you—i.e., where do you stand in relationship to this world?’ God has allotted each of us a certain number of days and years, each of which is to be utilized for the doing of good in relation to both God and humankind. Therefore, ask yourself: How many days have you lived already and how much good have you accomplished during that time? You, for instance, have lived already 46 years, how did you use your time?” The official was deeply amazed and thrilled by the fact that the Rebbe had guessed his right age and put his hand on the prisoner’s shoulder, while nervously exclaiming: “Bravo!”[1]

Martin Buber developed existential insights intimated by this question, “Where art thou?”  In mythic terms, God’s conversation occurs whenever human beings create the space to encounter and hear the Word of God unfold within the human heart. This broad theological message applies to all human beings of all ages.

In ancient times, the prophets and later the Essenes resided in the wilderness where they could be more receptive to God’s Presence. The Early Church Fathers built monasteries in the wilderness to help them develop their sense of the Sacred. In the 18^th-19^th centuries, R. Israel Eliezer, a.k.a., the Baal Shem Tov and his grandson, R.  Nachman of Bratzlav, along with others recommended that worshippers find God in the uninhabited areas apart from civilization. In the stillness of the forest or in the fields one can discover the Presence of God that reaches out and inspires the soul.

In terms of Israel’s development of faith, the wilderness experience taught the ancient Israelites that “human beings live not on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Deut. 9:4). The miracle of the manna taught the Israelites that God is capable of nourishing and guiding a people despite external circumstances and conditions. For the hungry and starving Israelites, the manna represented God’s mastery over the primordial forces of chaos—God’s ability to provide—even in the most hostile and uninhabitable environment. Manna could not be hoarded by the wealthy and used to exploit the impoverished members of society. There were no class distinctions; nobody had to qualify for sustenance. Each person was provided with exactly what s/he needed, not more or less (even Marx might have been impressed). Most importantly, the manna taught ancient Israel that sustenance came to the Israelites in marvelous and unexpected ways.  From hunger to fullness, from scarcity to abundance, Israel learned that her destiny is not dependent upon natural forces. Manna is God’s reminder that all food is God’s gift to the world—from the most extravagant banquet to the smallest portion of bread. Continue Reading

Hello everyone!

Professor Allan C. Emery is a Harvard graduate (Class of 1999), as well as the Senior Editor of Hendrickson Publishers.  Allan was gracious enough to write an endorsement for my new commentary on Genesis, which will be available to purchase by the end of February of 2010. The book will be about 530 pages. Due to the time constraints of Hendrickson Publishers, the proposed book could not be published within the next 2-3 years, so I decided to go with Llumina Press instead as my publisher.

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A few reflections on Rabbi Michael L. Samuel’s Birth and Rebirth Through Genesis: A Timeless Theological Conversation (Genesis 1–3)

It is a brave soul who will devote the time, study, and effort to devote a full-length book to exploring just three chapters of the Hebrew Scriptures. As senior editor at a publishing house devoted to the subject of Biblical Studies, I am fully aware of this reality. But Rabbi Samuel has done just that and in doing so has brought forth a marvelous theological reflection on the opening chapters of Genesis. The first portion of the book is devoted to a discussion of the foundations of how best to understand and benefit from the study of Genesis 1–3 using imagination, the understandings of past theologians and philosophers, all the while taking advantage of the benefits of a postmodern approach to this ancient text. The second portion of the book is given to a phrase-by-phrase translation of the Hebrew and discussions as to various appropriate interpretations of these Hebrew texts. The third section, almost half of the entire book, provides thirty fascinating theological reflections on the contribution of these three chapters to matters of modern interpretive interest. These include such diverse issues as “The Nature of Biblical Interpretation,” “Romantic Theology: Creation Flows from Love,” “Time, Creation, and Theology,” “A Theological View of Evolution,” “Examining the Biblical Concept of ‘Dominion’,” “The Meaning of Clinging,” “The Serpent as a Psychological Metaphor,” and “Why Did God Create Evil? A Parable of the Zohar,” to name fewer than a quarter of them.

All this said, there is little question that both in Jewish and Christian theological circles, the opening conversation of the Scriptures and of the Pentateuch itself is understood by many scholars to be pivotal to theological reflection on the whole of revelation. Issues related to the place of humanity within the cosmos with its ecological implications, issues dealing with the present state of humankind with respect to various moral issues related to how we deal with one another, and serious thought about the proper way to approach all theological reflection, spring from these seminal chapters. The importance of these opening chapters of the Pentateuch has been understood by both Jewish and Christian interpreters of the Scriptures for most of two millennia. And Rabbi Samuels draws from the rich resources of their thinking throughout his own work with a genuine appreciation for what each tradition has brought to the fore.

While this is a book written by a rabbi well-versed in the rabbinic tradition, one cannot read more than a few pages to discover that his research, his interests, and his appreciation of critical thought span the centuries of both Jewish thought and Christian, while encompassing the best of the non-faith-bound philosophers of these same millennia. Buber, Kohen, Kung, Derrida, and many, many others all have something to contribute to the discussion of these three brief chapters and Rabbi Samuel is fearless in drawing on their works and their thinking in order to provoke his reader to leap beyond the well-worn paths of the past.

I am aware that this book is but an opening salvo of a larger work encompassing the whole of the Pentateuch. We look forward to hearing more from Rabbi Samuels in the years ahead.

Allan C. Emery III, PhD

December 10, 2009

Genesis 4:13: וַיֹּאמֶר קַיִן אֶל־יְהוָה גָּדוֹל עֲוֹנִי מִנְּשֹׂא –Cain said to the LORD, “My punishment is greater than I can bear!”

This statement is a direct response to the punishment God had just given him! It doesn’t occur to him that he is deserving of death! Instead, he complains about losing his livelihood and having to wander. Ultimately Cain builds a city rather than accepting his punishment in defiance of God’s judgment. Like his father Adam, Cain refuses to take responsibility for his actions. Someone else is always to blame; whether it was God or his brother, he is not responsible. There is a fair consensus among the commentators who think that Cain does not express contrition over what he did; Cain worries only about the severity of his retribution.

However, an older rabbinic interpretive tradition suggests that Cain is well aware of the enormity of his sin and realizes there was nothing he could do to ever be forgiven. Cain cannot escape the memories of murdering his brother in cold blood.

One Midrashic text adds a most remarkable subtext to the dialogue that took place between Adam and Cain after the death of Abel. Adam wishes to know what transpired between Cain and God. Cain tells his father: “‘I repented and am reconciled,’ replied he. Suddenly Adam began beating his face, crying, ‘How awesome is the power of repentance, and I did not know! Then he [Adam] arose and exclaimed, ‘A Psalm, a song for the Sabbath day: It is a good thing to make confession unto the LORD’ (Ps. 92:2-3).”

Rashi is of the opinion that Eve’s pregnancy occurred before Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden,[1] since the verb for “know” יָדַע (yāda‘) is written in the pluperfect, signifying that Adam had known Eve just as he always “knew” her—before the “Fall.”[2] Had they not procreated in the garden, Adam and Eve would never have been able to observe the first of God’s commands, “Be fruitful and multiply.”

The Torah purposely utilized a euphemism of “knowing” rather than using a more vulgar expression like וַיִּשְׁכַּב אֹתָהּ — “and he fornicated her” as in Genesis 34:2. Ramban asserts that יָדַע in this case means more than just intellectually knowing; יָדַע denotes “to know personally by way of experience.”[3] In other words, Adam did not “know” Eve in a casual manner, he knew his wife intimately as a life partner and friend.

Mark Twain, in his short but moving essay “The Diary of Adam and Eve,” echoes Ramban’s point and in some ways goes far beyond his Kabbalistic insight. The author takes a midrashic position that, while Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden, they were–for all practical purposes–strangers in Paradise. It was only after their expulsion from the Garden that they grew to love one another. Twain has Eve saying:

It is my prayer, it is my longing, that we may pass from this life together–a longing which shall never perish from the earth, but shall have place in the heart of every wife that loves, until the end of time; and it shall be called by my name. But if one of us must go first, it is my prayer that it shall be I; for he is strong, I am weak, I am not so necessary to him as he is to me‑‑life without him would not be life; how could I endure it? This prayer is also immortal, and will not cease from being offered up while my race continues. I am the first wife; and in the last wife I shall be repeated.

At Eve’s Grave:

Adam: Wherever she was, there was Eden.[6]

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Footnotes:

[1] In fact, Rashi goes one step further and argues based on the Talmud (from T.B. Sanhedrin 38b) that their children were actually born before the expulsion! It is obvious that this interpretation was championed by the rabbis as part of their polemic against the Christian doctrine in “Original Sin”. Indeed, there is nothing in the text that would indicate that the children were born before the “Fall”; it is evident from the text that they must have been born afterward. Kimchi differs with this interpretation, and he sees the pregnancy as a result of the “Fall,” for it was afterward that the desire for human sexuality was born. Ibn Ezra concurs, observing that it was only after the “Fall” that Adam realized that he was not going to live forever, so he and his wife co-created life together. There is no linguistic or textual evidence from the phrase וְהָאָדָם יָדַע אֶת־חַוָּה that Adam never had sexual intimacy until after the expulsion from Eden. Cf. Maharsha’s notes on T.B. Yebamolth 18b.

[2] For the Early Church Fathers, the rabbinic analysis went against their theological belief that all of Adam and Eve’s children were born in a state of sin. They contended that if Adam had begotten children in a state of innocence, they would have been free from sin. This argument is not very convincing. God created human sexuality before the expulsion for good reason, for without sex, the human race would have becomes extinct soon after it was created.

[3] Igereth HaKodesh, c. 2.

[4] Gen. 19:5; Num. 31:17–18; Judg. 19:22.

[5]If we expand Ramban’s midrashic observation, we might also suggest that there are other nuances of (yāda`) that are lexically worth considering. Often when we speak of God “knowing,” as an euphemism for looking after a person one cares for (cf. 2 Sam. 7:20; Nah. 1:7; Ps. 144:3). This idea could fit here as well—i.e., as a result of Adam’s looking after Eve, he came to discover her as a person, and loved her. “Knowing” is sometimes used as a synonym for “revelation,” (Exod. 6:3). This idea would suggest that while the primal couple was in the garden, there was no intimacy and revelation of the Other. As a result of the expulsion, they discovered one another in love.

[6] “The Diary of Eve” reprinted in “The Diaries of Adam and Eve,” (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2000), 195-199.

I know well enough what it is, provided that nobody asks me; but if I am asked what it is and try to explain, I am baffled.

AUGUSTINE, Confessions, Book XI

When it came to the beginning of creation, Augustine was not the only person who struggled with the meaning of time. Rabbinic wisdom teaches that there are some aspects to creation that are hidden; we cannot presume to know the mind of God. “Why does the Torah begin with the letter בּ (beth = “b”)? Just as the letter בּ (beth) is closed at the sides but is open in front, so you are not permitted to investigate what is above and what is below, what is before and what is behind.”[1] The Judean sage Jesus ben Sirach (is 200–180 B.C.E.) offers this practical advice to those who speculate about the “hidden matters” alluded to in the

Creation story:

Neither seek what is too difficult for you,

nor investigate what is beyond your power.

Reflect upon what you have been commanded,

for what is hidden is not your concern.

Do not meddle in matters that are beyond you,

for more than you can understand has been shown you.[2]

Sirach 3:21-23 Continue Reading

BERAISHIT–IN THE BEGINNING!

Isn’t amazing that first parsha of the Torah, Berashit, always occurs during the baseball playoffs? Many years ago, when I was a young rabbinical student, I noticed this strange temporal anomaly that led me to the inevitable conclusion  that God is indeed, a baseball fan. Where do we derive this from the parsha? It states: “In the BIG INNING, God created the heavens and the earth,” A “Shabbat Berashit”—“A Shabbat of new beginnings.” After all the excitement of the High Holidays, comes the Shabbat once more

One of the famous questions asked in the Talmud is why did the Torah begin with the second letter of the Aleph Beth– the letter Beth? Why not begin the Torah with the letter Aleph instead?

The Talmudists answered, that the letter Aleph stands for arrur–a curse, whereas the letter Beth stands for bracha– a word signifying blessing. Surely it is better to begin the Torah with a bracha than a curse!

I have often found myself wondering, what kind of question is the Talmud asking in the first place. One could always ask why the Torah did not begin with one letter or another? Continue Reading