January 4th: Vayigash
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
When we introduced our children to the original Star Wars Trilogy (Episodes IV, V, and VI), we confronted the problem of impatience. We started watching the films one night during vacation and finished the second one at midnight. When we suggested that we go to sleep and then watch the third episode the next day, there was great agitation. The Empire Strikes Back ends on a triple cliff-hanger—Han Solo is frozen in carbonite and being delivered to Jabba the Hutt; Luke Skywalker’s right hand has been cut off, and he is barely hanging on to the bottom of a floating city; and Darth Vader has just uttered the famous reveal, “Luke, I am your father,” (a line the famous and late James Earl Jones refused to declaim at his 2005 appearance at Penn State’s Eisenhower Auditorium), and no one wanted to wait. At this point, Joni and I resorted to the traditional but under-appreciated technique of parental reminiscence: Back in the old days, we had to wait two and a half years between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. We old-timers were of a hardier breed, a patient breed… Our now-fanatical Star Wars fans were not persuaded.
From the ridiculous to the sublime: Patience
The thing about cliffhangers is that they inspire a kind of creative anxiety. The mystery of what will happen stimulates our imaginations, and we come up with all kinds of possibilities. We craft predictions and agitate over them—sometimes even arguing about which resolutions are more or less likely. Ultimately, however, we do not know. Our knowledge is limited, and any “conclusions” we reach are inevitably a function of our impatience. We want to know what we cannot know, and in lieu of facts (what the storyteller has in mind), we impatiently fix upon our own opinion.
We know that we are impatient creatures, but we may not be aware of its full dimension. For John F. Haught, human impatience has a theological problem. We are finite beings—very smart but ultimately unable to comprehend or definitionally capture infinity. We want to understand God, but, given that God is infinite and that our minds are finite, this is an impossibility. As the Bible tries to express it (the Lord speaking to Moses in Exodus 33.20), “You cannot see My Face, for man may not see Me and live.” Nonetheless, we seek a knowledge of the Divine and sometimes get carried away with our intuitions and impatiently come to conclusions on things we cannot know. This leads Professor Haught (a Roman Catholic theologian at Georgetown University) to make the following observation: “Idolatry is a form of impatience.”
We usually think of idolatry as praying to statues of gods, and, in Biblical terms, as showing disloyalty to the One True God. In other words, the opposite of idolatry would be loyalty or virtue. However, Haught focuses on the limitations that idolatry inflicts on God—on the limitations that stone or metal or definition imposes on the continuing growth and development of God. Quoting the mystical sensibilities of Albert Einstein and Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (both of whom he has biographized), Professor Haught looks to the ever-unfolding universe. Things are not static. Nothing is fixed—nor amenable to finality. To Haught, “the opposite of idolatry is not virtue; the opposite of idolatry is hope.”
Whatever the current situation—or whatever we might predict, it is presumptuous to impose our impatience and relative ignorance on a cosmos that is inevitably and continually unfolding and opening itself up to the future.
Though not the usual interpretation, Professor Haught’s thinking offers a profound insight into the four Torah portions of the Joseph Saga which we read this time of year: Parshiot Vayeshev, Mikketz, Vayigash, and Vayechi (Genesis 37-50). The story of Joseph is constantly surprising—constantly unpredictable. At every step along the way, we think we know what is happening, but our conclusions are always incorrect—always impatiently based on limited and current knowledge.
When Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery in Egypt, we could conclude that the story of Joseph is over. Jacob certainly thinks so. Seeing the bloody Coat of Many Colors, he knows that his beloved Joseph is dead, and he mourns for him every single day. Joseph himself could conclude that his life is over—several times. Enslaved, imprisoned in Egypt for years, abandoned by his family, and betrayed by his employer and his employer’s wife, Joseph is even forgotten by Pharaoh’s cupbearer. But then, everything changes. Who could imagine that Joseph is still alive? And who could imagine his remarkable rise to power in Egypt? The fixed reality of every single person turns out not to be so fixed. Nothing is set in stone.
Only at the end (Genesis 50.20) do we find out that a plan has been afoot—that God has been at work. As Joseph explains to his brothers: “Although you intended me harm, God intended it for good, so as to bring about the present result—the survival of many people.” With the benefit of patience and observation, Joseph sees what neither he nor anyone might have seen along the way. In all of the human and climate machinations, God has a plan. With time, the fuller picture has emerged.
The lessons then can be twofold. First, let us consider God’s presence and purposes in our lives. Who knows how God could be using us for holy purposes—how the challenges of our lives could be channels and opportunities for godliness.
Second, let us consider the wisdom that patience can bring. Though we are all tempted, impatience can bring all sorts of problems. Conclusions drawn too quickly, determinations made prematurely, and plans made without patience are often foolhardy. Let us not be distracted by the idols our impatience crafts; let us give the universe time to provide more information. If we can just hold on and patiently wait to see how things develop, we can understand better and respond better.
There are clearly times for urgency and action, but there are also times when hurried responses are too hurried to be wise. Haught—and Teilhard and Einstein—seem to be reminding us that we can make idols of our impatient and hurried thinking and that these idols do not serve us well. Let us pray for strength and patience and understanding.
“Adonai oz l’amo yiten; Adonai y’varech et amo vashalom.
The Lord gives strength to our people so that the Lord can bless our people with peace.” (Psalm 29.11)