Shutdown, Slimdown, Babylon: The Dangers of One Language

Rabbi Mishael Zion | Bronfman Fellowships | Text and the City | Noach 2013

“Now all the land was of one language and one set-of-words.” (Gen 11:1)

וַיְהִי כָל-הָאָרֶץ שָׂפָה אֶחָת וּדְבָרִים אֲחָדִים

Rarely do current events illuminate a Biblical text as poignantly as the poker game currently unfolding in  our

Fox News coverage

nation’s capital does. The story of the Tower of Babel, which we reread in this week’s Torah portion, is receiving a contemporary reinterpretation on the National Mall. Yet in this post-modern theatrical revival, there are not one, but two towers. On either side of Washington, two severe ideological-political towers have risen, and each side has locked itself in, speaking to itself in “one language and one set-of-words”. Each side has its own blogs, newspapers, TV channels, court jesters, and of course its own “set-of-words” to describe the unfolding reality (the “Tea Party Shutdown” vs. the “Slimdown”). Hearing each side tell the story, one can barely correlate it to the tale being told in the other language.

Granted, some might feel that only one side is stuck in an insular Tower of Babel. But what the current shutdown illuminates so powerfully in our Biblical text is that “the sin” at Babel was not the content of their actions or the values they held. It wasn’t that the people at Babel were idolaters, or rebelling against God, as many commentators hold. Rather, the problem was in their unity and uniformity. Rabbi Naphtali Zvi Berlin, the Netziv, in his commentary on the Torah “HaAmek Davar”, makes this point:

“Now all the land was of one language and one set-of-words” – God did not rise against them because of the content of their beliefs, but because they had only one set-of-words – regardless of their content. For their “set-of-words” became an obstacle to them, as they decided to terminate anyone who did not think like them. (Netziv, Ha’amek Davar Genesis 11:1)

'ויהי כל הארץ שפה אחת ודברים אחדים' – לא משום הדברים התעורר הקב"ה, כי אם בשביל שהיו אחדים, יהיו מה שיהיו... היו 'דברים אחדים' שביניהם לרועץ, שהחליטו להרוג את מי שלא יחשוב כדעתם.

Unity and agreement – desirable in their own right - became insular. Their air-tight logic turned into a suffocating collectivity. Within the confines of their own language, the people of Babel could no longer understand any alternative but their own. So taken by their “one set of words”, they could no longer tolerate anything foreign to it.

Much has been made recently of that fact that America has become a place where people of similar opinions

live, work, worship, study, marry and even shop in separate “lands”, receiving their news from “information siloes” in which they hear only what they already think to be true. Have we become a series of Babels ourselves? When is the moment when shared language becomes insularity, when solidarity becomes impermeability, when talking to those who share our values becomes solipsism?

I don’t have a solution to the intellectual and cultural divides in Washington. I also happen to believe that one side here is deeply correct while the other has made a grave error of judgment, one side is stuck in a tower in my opinion, the other is perhaps inching towards it. But I believe one lesson worth learning this week is that we need constant safeguards from becoming siloed in the “land of one language and one set-of-words”, and we need to ensure that our opponents don’t silo themselves off either.

The Bible offers a very strange solution to the challenge of “one-speak”:

“Let us go down and there let us baffle their language,

So that no man will understand the language of his neighbor.”

So God scattered them from these over the face of all the earth,

And they had to stop building the city.

Therefore its name was called Babble.

It is the tale of the invention of foreign languages, the creation of bafflement. Learning to decipher a foreign language, exposing oneself to the incomprehensible, recognizing that one person’s Babble is someone else’s common sense, are crucial safeguards against the destructive insularity of Babel. I do not apologize for the fact that I understand myself and the world through the boundaries of my own language, but I know that there are others languages out there, and that makes a world of difference. If we’re ever going to build some towers together, we’re going to have to make room for a whole lot of affable bafflement, otherwise we’ll never get very far.

Shabbat Shalom,

Mishael

p.s. Inspired by the Tower of Babble, and in the spirit of the ridiculousness of some of our leaders, I have been playing  Bob Dylan’s 1961 rendition of a “foreign song I learned in Utah”.

Now all the land was of one language and one set-of-words. And it was when they migrated to the east that they found a valley in the land of Shinar and settled there. They said, each man to his neighbor: Come-now! Let us bake bricks and let us burn them well-burnt! So for them brick-stone was like building-stone, and raw-bitument was for them like red-mortar. And they said: “Come-now! Let us build ourselves a city and a tower, its top in the heavens, And let us make ourselves a name, Lest we be scattered over the face of all the earth!” But God came down to look over the city and the tower that the humans were building, and said: “Here, they are one people with one language for them all, and this is merely the first of their doings – Now there will be no barrier for them in all that they scheme to do! Come-now! Let us go down and there let us baffle their language, So that no man will understand the language of his neighbor.” So God scattered them from these over the face of all the earth, And they had to stop building the city. Therefore its name was called Bavel/Babble, For there God baffled the language of all the earth-folk, And from there, God scattered them over the face of the earth. (Genesis 11:1-9)

א וַיְהִי כָל-הָאָרֶץ, שָׂפָה אֶחָת, וּדְבָרִים, אֲחָדִים.  ב וַיְהִי, בְּנָסְעָם מִקֶּדֶם; וַיִּמְצְאוּ בִקְעָה בְּאֶרֶץ שִׁנְעָר, וַיֵּשְׁבוּ שָׁם.  ג וַיֹּאמְרוּ אִישׁ אֶל-רֵעֵהוּ, הָבָה נִלְבְּנָה לְבֵנִים, וְנִשְׂרְפָה, לִשְׂרֵפָה; וַתְּהִי לָהֶם הַלְּבֵנָה, לְאָבֶן, וְהַחֵמָר, הָיָה לָהֶם לַחֹמֶר.  ד וַיֹּאמְרוּ הָבָה נִבְנֶה-לָּנוּ עִיר, וּמִגְדָּל וְרֹאשׁוֹ בַשָּׁמַיִם, וְנַעֲשֶׂה-לָּנוּ, שֵׁם:  פֶּן-נָפוּץ, עַל-פְּנֵי כָל-הָאָרֶץ.  ה וַיֵּרֶד ה’, לִרְאֹת אֶת-הָעִיר וְאֶת-הַמִּגְדָּל, אֲשֶׁר בָּנוּ, בְּנֵי הָאָדָם.  ו וַיֹּאמֶר ה’, הֵן עַם אֶחָד וְשָׂפָה אַחַת לְכֻלָּם, וְזֶה, הַחִלָּם לַעֲשׂוֹת; וְעַתָּה לֹא-יִבָּצֵר מֵהֶם, כֹּל אֲשֶׁר יָזְמוּ לַעֲשׂוֹת.  ז הָבָה, נֵרְדָה, וְנָבְלָה שָׁם, שְׂפָתָם--אֲשֶׁר לֹא יִשְׁמְעוּ, אִישׁ שְׂפַת רֵעֵהוּ.  ח וַיָּפֶץ ה’ אֹתָם מִשָּׁם, עַל-פְּנֵי כָל-הָאָרֶץ; וַיַּחְדְּלוּ, לִבְנֹת הָעִיר.  ט עַל-כֵּן קָרָא שְׁמָהּ, בָּבֶל, כִּי-שָׁם בָּלַל ה’, שְׂפַת כָּל-הָאָרֶץ; וּמִשָּׁם הֱפִיצָם ה’, עַל-פְּנֵי כָּל-הָאָרֶץ. בראשית יא

“Even Apolitical Poems are Political”: Seeking Holiness before a Political Summer Hits

There is perhaps nothing more counter to the idea of holiness than the reality of politics. Both terms are in dire need of re-framing.

Wisława Szymborska (1923-2012)

Politics has long been mired as the realm of individuals who seem to serve only themselves. Last summer, a generation that was said to have given up on the political system decamped to the arena of politics and occupied it, in a variety of movements across the world. The months since that summer have returned many to the more cynical stance towards the political arena, where those who were cynical of these movements to begin with were waiting. This summer promises to be even more political.

Holiness has also been lost to the “regular world” as an aspiration. Too loaded, it seems to belong to those interested in separating from the world, rather than embracing it. Modernity has pushed holiness and its “rumor of angels” out of the world, and spiritualistic new-age has only strengthened that assumption.

A new frame for holiness, and a new frame for politics, is needed – and this week’s parsha might inform both of those. Parashat Kedoshim, the Torah’s “Holiness Code”, opens with the following famous lines:

And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, Speak to the entire congregation of Israel, and say to them: Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy. (Leviticus 19:1-2)

וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֶל מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר: דַּבֵּר אֶל כָּל עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם: קְדֹשִׁים תִּהְיוּ כִּי קָדוֹשׁ אֲנִי ה' אֱלֹהֵיכֶם. (ויקרא יט:א-ב)

What is this holiness? The Sifra, the early Rabbinic commentary on the Torah, explains poignantly:

You shall be holy: you shall be separate.

:קדושים תהיו – פרושים  תהיו

The Sifra’s reading (quoted by Rashi) is in line with a classic understanding of holiness as separation. Just as God is utterly separate from this world, “wholly Other” as Rudolph Otto put it, the holy person must become wholly separate from the world. In this concept, the social world is a place of temptation, sin and profanity – and holiness is the act of separating from it.

But this is not the only understanding of Holiness. The Hasidic rebbe Rabbi Kalonymos Kalman Epstein of 19th century Cracow, in his book Maor vaShemeh, attacks the separatist understanding, and claims that holiness is only achievable through a social movement, through community:

A person might mistakenly thing that the meaning of “Be Holy” is that if a person isolates themselves, separating themselves from society, that they can attain holiness. But the truth is that… while separation helps to avoid the obstacles to Divine service, in order to achieve holiness one must join a group of spiritual people, who worship in earnest, and to join with them in their service – be it prayer or study... Indeed the majority of mitzvot must all be performed in an assembly with other seekers, and through this one can attain the highest holiness. This is why Rashi smartly commented first that “this chapter was given to the full community: ‘Speak to the entire congregation of Israel…” and only then “say to them: Be holy’” for holiness can only be achieved within a community of seekers, not through isolation. (Maor vaShemesh, Kedoshim)

יוכל האדם לטעות שהפירוש הוא "קדושים תהיו" דהיינו שאם יתבודד עצמו ויפרוש עצמו מן הציבור יזכה אל הקדושה. והאמת הוא ש...זאת אינו מועיל אלא להנצל מן הדברים המעכבים עבודת השם יתברך, אבל להשיג הקדושה העליונה אינו זוכה עד שידבק עצמו אל אנשי השם עובדי ה' באמת ולהשתתף עמהם יחד בעבודה רבה הן בתפלה והן בלימוד התורה. ועיקר המצות הכל יהיה בכנסיה יחד עם מבקשי ה' ואז יוכל להשיג הקדושה העליונה. לכן נתחכם רש"י ופירש קודם לזה מלמד שפרשה זו נאמרה בהקהל דהיינו שאינו זוכה אל הקדושה אלא בהקהל עצמו עם הציבור מבקשי ה' ) מאור ושמש - פרשת קדושים ד"ה וידבר

This understanding of holiness sees holiness not as “other” from the world, but emanating from the world. The contents of the rest of Leviticus 19, known as the “Holiness Code”, seem to strengthen this reading. Our chapter includes a combination of ritual laws (e.g. all sacrificial meat must be eaten on the same day) with a prescription of the basics of a just society: don’t take bribes, don’t gossip, do not prejudice the rich nor the poor, indeed – love your fellow as yourself. Leviticus 19 contains all you need to know about living among people, and how to manage the many things that will necessarily go wrong from such a social existence. And it claims that this is the path to holiness. In other words: Holiness is achieved through politics (it is this philosophy that another Polish rebbe, Abraham Joshua Heschel, branded so powerfully here in America).

A different  Polish rebbe, the late Nobel laureate WislawaSzymborska, rallies against those who shy away from politics. Between the lines of her poem you can hear the call of artists who seek to stay away from “the political” for fear of losing touch with the transcendent:

Children of Our Era

by Wislawa Szymborska | translated by Joanna Trzeciak

We are children of our era;

our era is political.

All affairs, day and night,

yours, ours, theirs,

are political affairs.

Like it or not,

your genes have a political past,

your skin a political cast,

your eyes a political aspect.

What you say has a resonance;

what you are silent about is telling.

Either way, it's political.

Even when you head for the hills

you're taking political steps

on political ground.

Even apolitical poems are political,

and above us shines the moon,

by now no longer lunar.

To be or not to be, that is the question.

Question? What question? Dear, here's a suggestion:

a political question.

You don't even have to be a human being

to gain political significance.

Crude oil will do,

or concentrated feed, or any raw material.

Or even a conference table whose shape

was disputed for months:

should we negotiate life and death

at a round table or a square one?

Meanwhile people were dying,

animals perishing,

houses burning,

and fields growing wild,

just as in times most remote

and less political.

Szymborska calls on us to stop deluding ourselves that the “apolitical life” is a loftier one, for such a thing is not possible. Politics can bring us into the realm of the painfully trivial (conference tables, or a ban on gossiping), but it is through the trivialities of politics that life and death get negotiated. Read in conjunction with the Maor vaShemesh’s theory of holiness, an aspirational reading of politics emerges. Those who seek a life of meaning and holiness are invited to see that holiness is only possible through the political act. Those who love the rush of politics are invited to imagine a politics that see as its aspiration a moment when society will be larger than the sum of its parts. Leviticus 19 suggests that the struggle towards a just society is the struggle towards holiness; that deepest meaning, a “rumor of angels,” is found not through a person alone in a forest, but only through the constant jam session which is the social-political project: at times disharmony and a-tonality might rule, but if you listen closely, and if we do it right, an underlying rhythm will reveal itself amid the clamor of politics. It is the beat of the holy.

Thanks to Neta Polisar (Amitei Bronfman ’05) for teaching me this poem at last weeks Israeli Amitim Alumni Weekend on Mt. Meron. Neta spent the summer in a tent on Rothschild st in Tel Aviv, and is currently volunteering as an organizer for a new Israeli workers union, Koach la’Ovdim, which rivals the establishment Histadrut union; he is awaiting the resurgence of the Israeli tent protest, and acting behind the scenes towards its reappearance.

Rabbi Mishael Zion | Bronfman Fellowships | Acahrei Mot- Kedoshim | Text and the City