Too often, I have found myself writing a blog post in the wake of yet another unfathomable mass shooting. If I go back and review what I've written over the years, it breaks my heart to see how many posts refer to recent violence somewhere in the country. There are a lot of them. Way, *way* too many. This time, we were first reeling after
a gunman attacked shoppers in a grocery store in Buffalo, NY, and just as we were trying to come to terms with that horrific attack,
another assailant killed 19 elementary school children and two teachers in Uvalde, TX. It is a truly powerless feeling to live in a country with so many armed individuals and so few checks, restrictions, or failsafes that could prevent senseless loss of life. We are living through an epidemic - a plague - of gun violence. And it is made exponentially worse by the failure of society to teach more people the paramount value of human life. When we feel this level of despair and sadness, we can also feel numb, desensitized, and totally speechless. In those moments, I find that the texts of our ancient, Jewish tradition can offer a broader perspective that may help us process all of this a bit better.
First of all, I want to preface this by saying that the Torah is unlikely to make us feel better at this moment. I mean, how could it? How could anything?? Right now, if our gun laws won’t change, and our elected officials don’t feel compelled by the terror we’re all living under, little else is going to turn the tide. So the Torah can’t just heal us from this pain, much as we desperately wish it could. But maybe we can still use this moment for introspection and self-examination, and that is certainly a realm that the Torah understands incredibly well. In this week’s Torah portion, which concludes the Book of Leviticus, we actually do see some of our current societal struggles reflected in the text, as our ancient ancestors learn about the consequences of not observing laws or letting society descend into chaos.
God first offers the Children of Israel a series of blessings that will come if-and-when they observe all the laws of the Torah. This is followed by a longer, more unsettling section that elaborates on the repercussions of non-compliance. The key takeaway for us is that these warnings aren’t just Biblical; they have an eerie resonance in our lives today. For example, if we don’t care for God’s earth, and take responsibility to protect it, the text informs us: “I will make your skies like iron and your earth like copper, so that your strength shall be spent to no purpose” (Lev. 26:19-20). To me, that sounds an awful lot like the fallout from global warming; skies that don’t produce rain and land that is unable to provide crops. Furthermore, we might see a foreshadowing of the pandemic, when the text states: “If you withdraw into your cities, I will send pestilence among you.” (v. 25) I interpret that to mean that when we “wall” ourselves off and only care about our families and our own communities, and we don’t work together to protect everyone in society (or share vaccines with people who desperately need them around the world…), the pestilence/plague/pandemic gets worse.
And finally, the text forces us to confront this particularly horrific scourge of gun violence, when it states: “I will loose wild beasts against you, and they shall bereave you of your children..." (v. 33) I doubt I need to help anyone connect that verse to Uvalde, TX… or to Sandy Hook or Parkland. So looking at these ominous warnings, especially in the context of communal introspection, I think the most important thing the text is trying to teach us is that we’re all in this together. When the Torah talks about following God’s laws, I look at the many prophetic texts that emphasize again and again that God wants us to care for the poor, the orphan, and the widow. God expects us to share our bounty and not turn our backs on those less fortunate. I don’t see this as focusing on Shabbat observance or keeping Kosher; I see it as saying these calamities are all the repercussions of selfishness, greed, and apathy. Recognizing this doesn’t magically make the tragedies disappear, but it may teach us how to respond to them. We need to care for one another, strive for peace relentlessly and constantly, and demand our elected leaders do the same. I pray that we’ll all learn these lessons, and soon. Otherwise, I fear I’ll be back here soon again, writing another blog post after we’ve been plagued by more violence.
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