Eikev: It's Too Hot to Change!

Did you know that last month, July 2012, was the hottest month on record in the United States? I'm not talking about the past year or the past decade; last month just 'dethroned' July 1936 as the month with

the hottest average temperature (77.6 degrees) across the 48 contiguous states since this sort of thing was first kept track of in 1895! Sixty-three percent of the country was experiencing drought-like conditions a week ago, and that number has increased since. That's almost hard to believe, the numbers are so staggering. So where is God in all of this? I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person asking that question, especially since this week we read the infamous passage about God withholding rain if we disobey the commandments. Right about now, a lot of people are probably wondering; is 63 percent of the country displeasing God? And what's it going to take to turn the heavenly faucets back on? 

The offending section of this week's parashah is also the second paragraph of one of our most well-known prayers, the Shema. It includes the following statement: "Take care not to be lured away to serve other gods and bow to them. For the Lord's anger will flare up against you, and God will shut up the skies so that there will be no rain and the ground will not yield its produce" (Deuteronomy 11:16-17). I've quoted to you before in this blog from Siddur Eit Ratzon, a modern prayer book that reinterprets this paragraph as saying that if we turn away from God's commandments, we will be turning away from the proverbial rain, and won't experience the goodness in our lives. Everything will seem/feel/appear less blessed. In other words, God isn't taking away; we just aren't receiving. 

I like that interpretation a lot, and most of the time it works for me. Right now, however, it certainly feels as if the sky has been literally shut up, and the effects aren't 

so metaphoric. Yet even as I am tempted to turn to God for answers, I am also reminded of the direct translation of the Hebrew word 'to pray' - 'le-hitpalel.' It's a reflexive word, it turns inward. It urges us to look at ourselves before, during, and after we ask God to answer our prayers FOR us. Even with something as seemingly uncontrollable as a drought, it may not be all God's 'fault.' In fact, there is a VERY human element to this disaster; most scientists posit that this is another sign of global warming.We are essentially heating our own planet, and then complaining about the temperature increase. What's wrong with this picture?

Yet even as we keep reminding ourselves to be introspective before blaming God for the world's problems, it just always seems easier to accuse someone else of wrong-doing. It's much harder to look at this situation and say, "Ok, it's time to make some changes to how I live my life." We try instead to convince ourselves it shouldn't matter. 

What I do in Wallingford, PA, shouldn't have an impact on corn growers in Iowa. But sadly, it does. Our prayers remind us that we cannot remain isolated and think that our actions affect no one else. Look at the Shema again: The first paragraph is addressed to each person: "You (individual) shall love the Lord, your God..." (Deut. 6:5). But the second paragraph is speaking to us all, in the plural: "If, then, you ALL obey the commandments..." (Deut. 11:13). I can't do this alone, and neither can you. Change has to happen on a societal level, a national level, and yes, a global level as well. Each of us has to start with our own lives, but we need to work together to affect change on a larger scale. Maybe then we'll really start to feel the rain in our lives again, and we can stop breaking records at the upper end of the thermometer. And if that doesn't work, I guess we could always go back to blaming God.

Photos in this blog post:
 

1. CC image courtesy of zoonabar on Flickr
 

2. CC image courtesy of jczart on Flickr
 

3. CC image courtesy of Genista on Flickr

4. CC image courtesy of cwwycoff1 on Flickr