July 3rd: Chukkat
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Everyone knows that Jews do not have idols, but some Biblical customs seem to flirt with the idea. In Exodus, right around the time when the Israelites are learning (the hard way) that a Golden Calf is not the way to get God’s approval, they get instructions about putting two large Cherubim, fierce looking winged angels, on the Ark of the Covenant.
Then, in this week’s portion, we have the installation of a large copper sculpture of a serpent in the camp—and then later in the Temple of the Lord in Jerusalem. The reason is an incident of rebellion in the wilderness: “The people grew restive on the journey, and the people spoke against God and against Moses, ‘Why did you make us leave Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread and no water, and we have come to loathe this miserable food (the manna).’ The Lord sent fiery serpents against the people. They bit the people and many of the Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, ‘We sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you. Intercede with the Lord to take away the serpents from us!’ So Moses interceded for the people. Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Make a seraph (fiery serpent) figure and mount it on a tall pole so that it is visible. And anyone who is bitten and looks at it shall recover.’ Moses made a copper serpent and mounted it, and anyone bitten by a serpent would look at the copper serpent and recover.” (Numbers 21.4-9)
The technical difference between an idol and a symbol is that an idol is worshipped, and a symbol is not. The Cherubim’s wings provided God a place to sit in the Tent of Meeting, and the copper serpent is a reminder that the snake bites are a punishment from God for disrespect—and that repentance and respect can get a person healed.
However, by the time we get to King Hezekiah (739-686 BCE), some 500 years later, the copper serpent has become a problem. In Second Kings (18.4), Hezekiah refers to it with a derogatory name, Nehustan, and has the serpent destroyed because the Israelites are burning incense to it—a practice akin to idolatry. Thus does the meaning of this symbol change over time—beginning as a commandment from God, and turning into an affront.
It is neither the first nor the last symbol to change, and we who find meaning in symbols are often of different minds about their validity and significance. Some seek to understand a symbol by finding its original meaning, and they reason that the original meaning is still valid. Thus is the Christmas Tree really a pagan custom (the Yule Log), and Halloween really a Satanic observance. One could apply the same logic to the little bells on the Torah ornaments—originally put there to scare away evil spirits. But, we should ask, is it possible that symbols change? Do succeeding groups, cultures, or religions take symbols that mean one thing in one context and co-opt the symbols and use them for completely different messages? I think they do, and the examples, I believe, prove the point. Christianity took a number of pagan customs and symbols and converted them to Christian purposes. Halloween is an amalgam of several customs, and, though it may have pagan or Satanic origins, I find it hard to believe that children dressed up as cartoon characters and begging candy from the neighbors are actually or even inadvertently observing a pagan rite. We need to beware the Myth of Primitivism—the belief that a symbol has a fixed and permanent meaning.
Our society is now in the midst of a reevaluation of symbols. What did they mean originally? What do they mean now? How do they affect people?
I believe that we have a role to play in the meaning of symbols—in the management and interpretation of symbols. We could talk about the controversy over statues of Confederate generals, but we can also talk about Jewish symbols—about something as volatile as the yarmulke. There was a time in the 19th Century when most all Jewish men wore hats or skullcaps in synagogue. Then, around 1900, the Reform Movement dispensed with yarmulkes. Not wearing a yarmulke was a sign of modern, enlightened Judaism and was experienced as a liberating and purifying of the ancestral faith. Then, starting in the 1960s, the custom staged a comeback and was seen by many of us as an enhancement to our spiritual work. As a religious symbol, yarmulkes or the lack thereof have great symbolic power, and yet, the people who wear them do not accept a single meaning (as though it were handed down on Mount Sinai). The people who wear this symbol, or the Tallit, or who participate in the the rich symbol system of Kashrut all have a say in the meanings they find. When people ask me about the the meaning of such a symbol, I need to talk about a range of possible meanings. The people using the symbol are involved in the symbol’s management and definition.
A case in point in the current Zeitgeist is that of the statue of President Lincoln with a newly freed, kneeling African in Washington, D.C. When it was dedicated in 1876, Frederick Douglass spoke quite critically about Lincoln’s racial attitudes, though to the hundreds of former slaves who paid for the statue, Lincoln was a hero. Today, some African American activists are citing Douglass to get the statue removed, but many others love the statue and their historical appreciation of the President whom they consider their Redeemer. Who owns the meaning of the symbol when both interpretations are legitimate?
One can also see a multiplicity of meanings in the recent discussion of Juneteenth, a celebration of African American freedom that refers to several different anniversaries in the gradual process of release from slavery. Whether it is observed in some families—as it has been for years—or is celebrated more widely or is established as a national holiday, it is a symbol which will be construed and managed. Symbols do not control us; we control them.
Symbols can be powerful expressions of concepts and experiences, but they are flexible and manageable. We can honor them or dishonor them or interpret them as we will. Just like the copper serpent originally commanded by God, the meanings of symbols change because people regard them differently. We can be active in this process.