Remaining Steadfast in the Winds of Change
I can't sit down to write this week without starting from what's happening in L.A. County. The scale of destruction there is so vast that it's hard to comprehend. Friends and family members there have shared that it feels like being in a war zone or inside a dystopian hell-scape; worst of all, the danger is not over yet. I am praying for the safety of everyone there, for the well-being and success of firefighters and emergency personnel, and for the homes and businesses still standing to be spared.
The wildfires that have blazed out of control this week are an awful and stark reminder of the raw power of nature, and that as human beings, we are a part of it, but not at all in control of it. Although the images out of Pacific Palisades, Pasadena and more may feel shocking, the truth is that these particular fires aren't unprecedented in their size and scale -- only in that they have torn through urban areas where so many human structures stand in their way. But, watching these fires from afar absolutely pushes us to carefully consider what we value most (what would you grab if you had only a few minutes to leave your home forever?), how we can show up for other human beings in the wake of such large-scale catastrophe and destruction, and how we are to move through life given its precariousness. These are questions of ultimate purpose... always relevant, but felt most palpably in the wake of crisis and destabilization.
This week's Torah portion, Parashat Vayechi, is the final portion of the Book of Genesis. In it, we find the death-bed scenes for both our patriarch Jacob and his son Joseph. While this is a very different context from the Southern California fires, this story, too, sets life and death in relief with one another, raising fundamental questions about how people should aspire to live lives of ethics and meaning.
Like the wildfires this week, Parashat Vayechi especially forces engagement with the question of what it means to live in a world characterized by instability. In Vayechi, circumstances beyond human control have resulted in the whole family now residing in Egypt. Steadfastness emerges quickly as a key theme and an answer to this question, as we can see from the opening verses:
"Jacob lived seventeen years in the land of Egypt, so that the span of Jacob's life came to one hundred and forty-seven years. And when the time approached for Israel to die, he summoned his son Joseph and said to him, 'Do me this favor, place your hand under my thigh as a pledge of your steadfast loyalty: please do not bury me in Egypt. When I lie down with my fathers, take me up from Egypt and bury me in their burial place.' He replied, 'I will do as you have spoken.' And he said, 'Swear to me.' And he swore to him. Then Israel bowed at the head of the bed." (Gen. 47:28-31)
The Hebrew words I've bolded above and translated as "steadfast loyalty" are "chesed ve'emet." Some of us might recognize this phrase from the list of the "13 Attributes" that we chant on holidays ("Adonai, adonai, El rachum v'chanun..."); human beings can endeavor to embody these Godly qualities through our actions. "Chesed ve'emet," in particular, pairs "chesed" -- meaning kindness, compassion or loyalty -- with "emet" -- truth, faithfulness, constancy. Together, they add up to steadfastness, a positive quality that can be relied upon to remain steady over time.
As I read through the parasha this week with these big questions in mind, I noticed that steadfastness comes up again in the scene where Jacob offers words of blessing to each of his children. Online, I found a beautiful Dvar Torah by Rabbi Devin Maimon Villarreal that draws attention to the commentary of Isaac Lindo Mocatta, "one of the great voices of England's Sephardic community in the 19th century." Mocatta notes that as Jacob speaks to his firstborn, Reuben, he declares him to be "unstable as water" (see Gen. 49:4), but to Joseph, Jacob states: "Archers bitterly assailed him; They shot at him and harried him. Yet his bow stayed taut, and his arms were made firm by the hands of the Mighty One of Jacob" (Gen. 49:23-24). Mocatta explains: "Free to choose, let us take example from Joseph and warning from Reuben; let us be courageous and earnest in good... ever firm as strong whereby we may secure the approval of our conscience..."
Rabbi Villarreal draws out Mocatta's lesson and builds on it, writing:
"I’d like to focus on something that might escape our attention: Mocatta’s understanding of Jacob’s archer as a symbol of steadfastness in purpose. Mocatta calls to our mind how an archer behaves, taking into consideration the wind, the landscape, light and distance, all of which are constantly changing. The archer adjusts in response, but their focus on the target does not waiver. This analogy makes a claim about change and steadfastness. Some would argue that the way to maintain steadfastness is to force the world back into some imagined stasis, into a box with definite boundaries that make our choices feel clearer and safer. The archer asks us to recognize that that is not how the world operates. Change surrounds us all the time, but that doesn’t require us to abandon steadfastness of purpose. We can accept that things change and still be committed to our ideals. We can learn to understand these changes and how to pursue our ideals in their midst. In fact, Mocatta tells us, we must do this if we hope to 'secure the approval of our own conscience.'"
Villarreal's Torah speaks deeply to me this particular week, as winds blow all around us... and I'm thinking here of both nature's Santa Ana winds and also more metaphoric political winds and other winds of change in our lives. If we are to be like the archer of Jacob's vision, we must know that the world around us will not be static, and we cannot operate as though it will. Our "target" is to achieve the kind of steadfastness that Jacob sees in his son Joseph: to be a constant and reliable source of goodness and compassion. In order to do this, our aim and focus must remain true, while we constantly tweak our stance in response to the changing conditions around us.
This lesson works on both an individual and a collective level. In the wake of the overwhelmingly huge disaster we are witnessing in California, we will aim to remain true to who we are, faithful to our values, steady and steadfast. If you have family members or friends in the L.A. area who have been impacted by the fires, please reach out to them and keep reaching out; the impact of these fires in Southern California will last far beyond the time that this story fades from news headlines, and we have the capacity to be steadfast and in it for the long-haul with our loved ones. (Meanwhile, please let me or Rabbi Jay know if you need pastoral support as well -- we, too, will be in it for the long-haul.) If you are looking for a place to donate funds to relief efforts, our sister community IKAR has compiled a list and is keeping it up to date -- please give! And lastly, we will join together in a special prayer tomorrow morning at our Shabbat Minyan -- click here if you haven't registered yet but would like to join us.
In the face of an unstable and precarious world, Parashat Vayechi helps to center us on the quality of steadfastness. May this Shabbat bring respite from destruction, and give us a chance to center ourselves so that we can continue showing up consistently for others and putting one foot in front of the other, slowly and steadily, as we pursue our highest aspirations and visions.
In steadfastness,
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
