Looking Backwards To See Forward

The idea that history repeats itself is not a new one, except when its lessons come back to bite us. So I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised at the rapid rise of the current coronavirus. Sure, we’ve all had our fill of constant media fear-mongering mixed with coping advice and though I don’t wish to downplay its seriousness, I have been particularly concerned because of late, a strong childhood memory has been haunting me…

As a child, I was made sharply aware that other children I knew had grandparents because my own maternal grandmother had been gone for a very long time. As a young, newly arrived Eastern European immigrant, she had been one of the millions of victims of the 1918 influenza epidemic or Spanish flu.

Although my grandfather had soon remarried, I was told that his new wife had treated my three-year old mother and her older brother cruelly. They were then brought up by my great aunt. Bitter at having no children of her own, she loved them in her own way but mostly tolerated them out of a sense of duty.

I remember being sad much of the time at having no close, extended family because although my paternal grandparents were still living, I had little physical contact with them due to other family dysfunctional relationships beyond my control at the time. Still, there  are times that I imagine hearing their voices arguing or cursing in Yiddish at each other and times when I can hear their softer tones expressing worry and affection.

Nevertheless, my brief experiences with those generations were surely part of the alchemy of who I’ve become whether through the mystery of memory or genetics.

Now that I am grandmother, those early memories have become more relevant since I am squarely within the demographics of those most vulnerable to Covid-19. With my own history of respiratory ailments and our grandson in pre-school, my husband and I have spent much of the past several months fighting off a repeating cycle of common colds courtesy of that pre-school environment.

Even as age brings a certain acceptance of so much that is beyond our control, particularly illnesses put in our path by global events, I find  that it is also important to search for spirituality, humor, positivity and beauty in our lives and allow it to mitigate these concerns. Accordingly, I’ve just published my new book, ‘A Visual Amidah: An Essence Of Prayers & Blessings‘. The Amidah is my visual interpretation of the set of 19 prayers and blessings that form the core of the Jewish worship liturgy.

The book includes an artist’s preface, a brief history of The Amidah and artist’s notes on the intent of each prayer and blessing with explanations of the imagery chosen for each. Size: 8 x 10 inches Price: $36.00 To Order Your Signed Copy, visit: http://magiceyegallery.com/BookPage.aspx?id=1011

The book cover is shown below and the illustration shown above accompanies the ‘Elokai Netzor’, a  prayer offered at the conclusion of the three-times daily recitation of the Amidah. In it, an ethereal angelic messenger reveals the dual nature of our choices for speech and behavior with the Hebrew letter ‘peh’ (which translates as ‘mouth’) and a mirror image of itself. The ‘peh’ at the right represents ‘loshen ha-ra (evil speech that may lead to evil actions) while the ‘peh’ on the left represents ‘loshen ha-tov’ (good speech that may lead to good deeds). The presence of the messenger indicates that all words have consequence since G–d hears, feels and responds to the effects of both.  I wish you all good health and safe passage through these perilous times. Take care!

 

 

 

 

 

The Seventh Blessing: For Life & Love

The Seven Blessings, or Sheva Brachot are a lovely old tradition, each one recited under the Chuppah (Marriage Canopy) by chosen friends and family at Jewish weddings. The Seven Blessings begin with the blessing over wine (‘pri hagofen’) followed by praise and gratitude to the Source of Life for our creation, for our existence and for our ability to thrive through time. They also address the binding of the couple, wishing them a life of love, joy, peace and friendship from the Biblical perspective; that their union should mirror the happiness of the first couple in the Garden of Eden. Finally, the couple is made aware that as they rejoice in each other, their union will also bring joy to the world . Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan suggests that Jewish weddings reflect the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai symbolizing the wedding of Heaven and Earth.

For the eleventh blessing in my book, An Illumination Of Blessings, I initially attempted to work all seven blessings into the illustration, however after further research and several iterations, I came to the conclusion that the seventh blessing really encompasses the other six and is therefore essential. This idea was suggested by an interpretation in Kabbalah which explains how each of the seven blessings corresponds to seven of the sefirot, or the energies that are the foundation of Creation.

Although there are actually ten sefirot, the interpretation posits that the three remaining sefirot do not correspond to their own blessings because two of them, Keter (Crown representing ethereal consciousness) and Chokhmah (representing Wisdom) are contained in the sefirah of Binah (Understanding) and the last one, Malkhut receives all of those above and before it. The Hebrew language in the Seventh Blessing also contains ten words or synonyms for happiness, peace and friendship, all of which lead to joy. In this sense, it corresponds to all ten sefirot as well as the ten phrases by which the world was created and the Ten Commandments given at Mt. Sinai. These ideas prompted me to place the letter Bet (for Binah) in the space above the Chuppah for these values must guide all that we do. The commentary at the end of the book will provide explanations of the symbols that appear in the illustration.

Shown above is the finished illumination for the Seven Blessings and below is one of the iterations.

As always, your comments and questions are welcome.

On The Pragmatism Of Prayer…

In light of the national media babbling 24/7 about the fear and trembling amidst heightened security measures that have overtaken the Boston environs in the wake of the Marathon bombing, I thought about all the prayers that go out both to comfort ourselves, each other and perhaps in attempt to stanch the rising panic over the still at-large bombing suspect. In doing so, I offer these questions for your comments:

 

1. Can prayers be understood as pleas for protection from evil, or for those more philosophically inclined, can they be seen as praise for a G-d whose will in all things is inscrutable?

2. What about the concept of prayers as a way to understand that the balance of good and evil must, however costly to life and property, be maintained for some larger cosmic purpose?

3. Could these prayers relate in some obscure way to the intent of sacrifices in ancient times? In other words, did we perform sacrifices and offer prayers as a tribute to the greatness of G-d, to assuage our fear of His/Her potential anger or a little of both?

 

In Acharey Mot, this week’s Torah reading, although the above questions are given no definitive answers, we learn how the qualities of good and evil inform a duality in our concept of G-d that inspires the custom of absolving communal sin by sacrificing two goats.

 

The illustrations below are details from my book, Between Heaven & Earth: An Illuminated Torah Commentary (Pomegranate, 2009). We can see one animal lying trussed and wearing an inscribed boxwood lot dedicating it to G-d. The other, marked as an offering to ‘Azazel’ will be the scapegoat sent into the wilderness.  The term ‘Azazel’ has various connotations. Medieval commentators have referred to it as a desert cliff in the Sinai from which a goat was thrown on Yom Kippur to atone for the sins of Israel. But In his commentary on Leviticus 16:8, the Spanish Talmudist Moses Ben Nachman Gerondi (Nachmanides) described Azazel as a goat-like desert god or demon. The image of a demon has long been associated in mythology with evil, sexual misdeeds and the fearsome forces of nature. Merging the two ideas produced the portrayal of Azazel as a winged demon pictured in a barren desert setting. The string tying the lot to Azazel’s goat is partly colored scarlet to recall a custom in the Temple. A red cord was hung in the Temple porch for all to know that a goat had been sent to Azazel. The amount of time needed for the goat and its escort to reach the cliff was calculated and when the sacrifice was deemed complete, the cord allegedly turned white.

 

Perhaps this elaborate, dramatic ritual, was in itself an answer to my questions? If the Torah had not told us that we were made in “…Our Image”, how else would it be possible for us to understand that God may inspire both joy and

heartbreak?