Post by Rabbi Neil on Nov 26, 2021 21:33:07 GMT
In Judaism we recite blessings over things that are usual, and over things that are unusual. For example, we recite a blessing over the candles on Kabbalat Shabbat, even though we do that every week. However, when our life changes, when we see something that we haven’t seen for a long time, we also mark that with a blessing. For example, Talmud (B’rachot 58b) teaches us that one who sees a friend for the first time in thirty days recites shehecheyanu, whereas one who sees a friend for the first time in twelve months recites “m’chayyei hameitim”, blessing God who revives the dead since, according to Talmud, dead people are only forgotten after a year. (That’s not to say that we automatically forget dead people after a year but, rather, that after a year of someone passing, we start to live our lives differently).
The same page of Talmud then goes into difficult territory, saying, “Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said, ‘One who sees spotted people recites m’shaneh hab’riyot – “blessed are You, who makes differing creatures.” The Gemara objects saying, “One who saw someone with unusually black skin, with unusually red skin or unusually white skin, or someone unusually tall and thin, or a dwarf, or someone with warts, recites m’shaneh et hab’riyot – “blessed are You, Who makes differing creatures.”’ The Hebrew is slightly different between the two, though, so perhaps one of them could be translated as “Who varies creation.” Nonetheless, the objection continues, ‘one who sees an amputee, someone blind, someone flat-headed, someone lame, someone afflicted with boils or someone spotted recites dayan ha’emet, “Blessed are You… the true Judge.”’
This latter blessing is the blessing recited on hearing bad news. It’s a way of acknowledging that the world does not go according to our plan but according to God’s. Talmud continues to say that the blessing m’shaneh et hab’riyot, praising God for varying creatures, is recited when seeing an elephant, monkey or vulture. It also adds that one who sees beautiful creatures or beautiful trees recites “shecacha lo b’olamo” Blessed are You, God…, Who has such things in God’s world.”
This section of Talmud is deeply upsetting, frustrating, and also wonderfully empowering at the same time, and I think it’s extremely relevant for Thanksgiving. These blessings are partially included in the 8th edition of the Forms of Prayer siddur, the reform siddur from the UK, but they’re reframed very differently. The blessing m’shaneh hab’riyot is there given the title “On seeing people of unusual appearance.” I objected to that title when the siddur was being designed, because who gets to determine what usual and unusual appearance is? That smacked of right and wrong ways to look, of physical judgmentalism, and reminded me strongly of the painful opinions of this section of Talmud about differing skin colors being “unusual.” I asked for this section to be titled “On seeing varied wonders of creation” but that wasn’t accepted.
Can we take something originally problematic and turn it into something positive? That’s the question posed by the celebration of Thanksgiving and also by this page of Talmud about giving thanks. Native Americans in increasing number are marking the fourth Thursday of November as a Day of Mourning to remember the millions of their ancestors who were murdered by uninvited European colonialists. The story of the first Thanksgiving is far more complex, and less positive, than what is usually told to American children in schools. Does that mean that we can’t celebrate Thanksgiving, or that to do so ignores the pain of the past? Similarly, can we recite blessings that use traditional words, even if those who used them in the past often did so in racist, ableist and generally judgmental ways?
For me personally, I reject some but not all of these Talmudic blessings. I will not say Baruch… dayan ha’emet, the blessing over bad news, when seeing someone who has a disability. I understand the ancient thinking behind that (based on the image of the perfect human (read: male) body that was necessary in Biblical and Rabbinic thought for someone to become the High Priest) but that is not my thinking. I will almost certainly recite shehecheyanu when seeing friends again. After the pandemic, I might even recite m’chayyei hameitim for those I haven’t seen for a year, although I’ve never done that before. When I see varied wonders of creation for the first time in thirty days, I love to recite m’shaneh hab’riyot, thanking God for the varied wonders of creation but I would never recite that over a person because I ever considered them to look “abnormal” or “unusual.” If I ever thought that, to be honest, I’d probably take a very deep look into myself for having wondered why I even thought that. Because that blessing reeks of judgment, I save it not for people, which is where some in Talmud use it problematically, but for wonders of creation. It’s a great blessing to recite on going to the zoo! It doesn’t just have to be saved for elephants, monkeys or vultures, though. It could even be local wildlife. Even though a coyote killed our dog yards away from me four or five years ago, I listen in wonder at their pack calls and maybe it’s time for me to recite that blessing when I hear those calls – at least, after I’ve got the dogs inside the house! Now I say that, I wonder if there’s halakhah about how long after hearing a coyote call can one recite that blessing, and can a person ensure their dogs are safe before reciting it? Probably not.
It may have been 2am when the lunar eclipse happened last week, but I still recited a blessing for it – not m’shaneh hab’riyot but oseh ma’aseh b’reishit, thanking God Who performs the work of creation. That for me is a blessing regarding not the variety in nature, but the extraordinary working of nature – in this instance, how three celestial bodies can be so in line despite being on such a huge scale that they can cause eclipses. Talmud says (Succah 29a) that solar eclipses are a bad omen for the world and lunar eclipses are a bad omen for the Jewish people (since Jews are often compared to the moon). That is why traditionally there is no blessing for an eclipse, but I believe that we can take the traditions of the past, strip them of their superstition and prejudice, and reinterpret them today. So, I said a blessing for the lunar eclipse.
In a similar way, I think it’s essential for us to acknowledge the Day of Mourning for Native American people and to at the very least have a conversation every Thanksgiving about the pain of the past. And we can also transform that fourth Thursday in November into one that brings people together, perhaps even through sharing differing narratives.
The essence of traditional Jewish thought is that everything is a blessing or has the potential to lead to blessing, whether it be something positive or negative. We can take the negative and turn it into something positive, so long as we don’t ignore where the negativity came from and whether or not it still negatively affects other people. We can gather in joy and count our blessings and still be aware of the pain of the past. So, let us give thanks for our lives, for the wonder of being alive, for the wonder of being able to be here in this moment, for the wonder of the night sky, of Shabbat, or community, of the miracle of creation. And let us say, amen.
The same page of Talmud then goes into difficult territory, saying, “Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said, ‘One who sees spotted people recites m’shaneh hab’riyot – “blessed are You, who makes differing creatures.” The Gemara objects saying, “One who saw someone with unusually black skin, with unusually red skin or unusually white skin, or someone unusually tall and thin, or a dwarf, or someone with warts, recites m’shaneh et hab’riyot – “blessed are You, Who makes differing creatures.”’ The Hebrew is slightly different between the two, though, so perhaps one of them could be translated as “Who varies creation.” Nonetheless, the objection continues, ‘one who sees an amputee, someone blind, someone flat-headed, someone lame, someone afflicted with boils or someone spotted recites dayan ha’emet, “Blessed are You… the true Judge.”’
This latter blessing is the blessing recited on hearing bad news. It’s a way of acknowledging that the world does not go according to our plan but according to God’s. Talmud continues to say that the blessing m’shaneh et hab’riyot, praising God for varying creatures, is recited when seeing an elephant, monkey or vulture. It also adds that one who sees beautiful creatures or beautiful trees recites “shecacha lo b’olamo” Blessed are You, God…, Who has such things in God’s world.”
This section of Talmud is deeply upsetting, frustrating, and also wonderfully empowering at the same time, and I think it’s extremely relevant for Thanksgiving. These blessings are partially included in the 8th edition of the Forms of Prayer siddur, the reform siddur from the UK, but they’re reframed very differently. The blessing m’shaneh hab’riyot is there given the title “On seeing people of unusual appearance.” I objected to that title when the siddur was being designed, because who gets to determine what usual and unusual appearance is? That smacked of right and wrong ways to look, of physical judgmentalism, and reminded me strongly of the painful opinions of this section of Talmud about differing skin colors being “unusual.” I asked for this section to be titled “On seeing varied wonders of creation” but that wasn’t accepted.
Can we take something originally problematic and turn it into something positive? That’s the question posed by the celebration of Thanksgiving and also by this page of Talmud about giving thanks. Native Americans in increasing number are marking the fourth Thursday of November as a Day of Mourning to remember the millions of their ancestors who were murdered by uninvited European colonialists. The story of the first Thanksgiving is far more complex, and less positive, than what is usually told to American children in schools. Does that mean that we can’t celebrate Thanksgiving, or that to do so ignores the pain of the past? Similarly, can we recite blessings that use traditional words, even if those who used them in the past often did so in racist, ableist and generally judgmental ways?
For me personally, I reject some but not all of these Talmudic blessings. I will not say Baruch… dayan ha’emet, the blessing over bad news, when seeing someone who has a disability. I understand the ancient thinking behind that (based on the image of the perfect human (read: male) body that was necessary in Biblical and Rabbinic thought for someone to become the High Priest) but that is not my thinking. I will almost certainly recite shehecheyanu when seeing friends again. After the pandemic, I might even recite m’chayyei hameitim for those I haven’t seen for a year, although I’ve never done that before. When I see varied wonders of creation for the first time in thirty days, I love to recite m’shaneh hab’riyot, thanking God for the varied wonders of creation but I would never recite that over a person because I ever considered them to look “abnormal” or “unusual.” If I ever thought that, to be honest, I’d probably take a very deep look into myself for having wondered why I even thought that. Because that blessing reeks of judgment, I save it not for people, which is where some in Talmud use it problematically, but for wonders of creation. It’s a great blessing to recite on going to the zoo! It doesn’t just have to be saved for elephants, monkeys or vultures, though. It could even be local wildlife. Even though a coyote killed our dog yards away from me four or five years ago, I listen in wonder at their pack calls and maybe it’s time for me to recite that blessing when I hear those calls – at least, after I’ve got the dogs inside the house! Now I say that, I wonder if there’s halakhah about how long after hearing a coyote call can one recite that blessing, and can a person ensure their dogs are safe before reciting it? Probably not.
It may have been 2am when the lunar eclipse happened last week, but I still recited a blessing for it – not m’shaneh hab’riyot but oseh ma’aseh b’reishit, thanking God Who performs the work of creation. That for me is a blessing regarding not the variety in nature, but the extraordinary working of nature – in this instance, how three celestial bodies can be so in line despite being on such a huge scale that they can cause eclipses. Talmud says (Succah 29a) that solar eclipses are a bad omen for the world and lunar eclipses are a bad omen for the Jewish people (since Jews are often compared to the moon). That is why traditionally there is no blessing for an eclipse, but I believe that we can take the traditions of the past, strip them of their superstition and prejudice, and reinterpret them today. So, I said a blessing for the lunar eclipse.
In a similar way, I think it’s essential for us to acknowledge the Day of Mourning for Native American people and to at the very least have a conversation every Thanksgiving about the pain of the past. And we can also transform that fourth Thursday in November into one that brings people together, perhaps even through sharing differing narratives.
The essence of traditional Jewish thought is that everything is a blessing or has the potential to lead to blessing, whether it be something positive or negative. We can take the negative and turn it into something positive, so long as we don’t ignore where the negativity came from and whether or not it still negatively affects other people. We can gather in joy and count our blessings and still be aware of the pain of the past. So, let us give thanks for our lives, for the wonder of being alive, for the wonder of being able to be here in this moment, for the wonder of the night sky, of Shabbat, or community, of the miracle of creation. And let us say, amen.