One of the main critiques of religion, especially the Abrahamic ones (Judaism, Christianity, Islam), is how patriarchal they are.

This couldn’t be more true.

Thus, rejection of it. “I’m spiritual, but I don’t buy into this patriarchal stuff of organized religion.”

This week’s parsha abounds with perfect examples, as our (male) God tells the Israelites they are about to enter the Promised Land. [He] also tells them how they will be rewarded if they follow [His] laws (with abundance, fertility, good life)—and how they will be punished (with scarcity, sterility, death) if they don’t.

God reminds the people that [He] has tested their loyalty along the way.

[He] beseeches them to remember how [He] made them walk through the desert for forty years. [He} put them through hardships as a trial for them to see where their hearts lay.

The very Hebrew word for “trial” or “test” is the same as the word used for “answer.” It’s like they have to “answer to” God.

The same word in a different form, as used here, means that they have been afflicted, forced to humble themselves before God—on purpose, as in, “I did it for your own good.” (and we all know the damage that’s done to children through the millennia.)

The goal of this, God says, is so they will know that (famous lines), “It is not by bread alone that [man] lives, but by whatever comes out of God’s mouth” (i.e. God’s decrees).

God explains: “Lest you think, ‘My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me.’”

God declares we should not be afraid, for [He] will be the very one leading us into this new land, driving out, expelling the current residents, not because “you are so virtuous, wise, or righteous,” but because the others are worse; they’re wicked.

In other words, “Don’t be so grandiose; you didn’t do it by yourself. You had a lot of help! From Me!" (Capital M)

It’s true that the message of an all-powerful god, one who rescues us, can be comforting—and it’s an idea many of us no longer believe. We have known too much suffering to believe the opposite, and are tired of taking all the blame for what goes wrong in our lives; it is damning and damaging.

But what is also true is that this message to humble ourselves a little is one we need to hear, especially in our American culture where we are taught that we make or break our own success.

Both messages from Torah and our society are so very clearly patriarchal, based entirely on a male model of reward and punishment—and the Bible is here to remind us that it is not by our own hand if we are “successful.”

Even the word “success” is problematic, as it is based on how powerful a job we have, or how much money we make. As we know, many wealthy people love to say they created their wealth all by themselves, thus forgetting or disregarding the privileges they had along the way, often since birth.

The message is so strong that we feel proud and puffed up when we have money, and full of shame when we struggle.

Later in this parsha, Moses reminds the people that it was God’s love for this people that caused [Him] to do all the [He’s] done for them; all [He] asks in return is their steadfast love and loyalty.

While it’s understandable that one who loves another can hope to be loved in return, this is a controlling god who demands total love and loyalty.

You can’t get more patriarchal than that.

It’s also true that when we reject our holy books because they are patriarchal, we are rejecting patriarchy. That’s a good thing if we want to move forward to a time when we can live more or less as equals, in peace, on Earth.

But in the same rejection of our holy books, there may also be an unwillingness to look at ourselves in the mirror.

Because, as much as we like to think otherwise, we reflect the patriarchy we claim to reject in the very thoughts we have, in our relationship with ourselves, and with others.

Thus says Terry Real who created what is called Relational Life Therapy, which he describes in his interview with Tami Simon on the podcast, Insights From the Edge.

The way we live now, as always in the past, says Terry Real, is by constantly comparing ourselves to others. When we compare, we judge, and when we judge, we hold power.

Either we feel good, and proud, or we feel shame—because someone else has a better job, is thinner, more fit, richer, smarter, has more accomplished children, etc.—even when our circumstances are completely beyond our control.

Either way, one of us is superior while the other, inferior.

Real describes this as grandiosity vs. shame.

Underlying both, he says, is the same emotion: contempt.

He goes on: As understood in our society, either we are feminine/affiliative/connected/accommodating, or we are masculine/powerful/assertive; you can be powerful or connected, but never both at the same time.

Further, in a patriarchy we have power over others.

Such an attitude, he says, is even popular in activist (feminist, anti-racist) and spiritual circles. Who hasn’t heard this one: “I was weak. I’ve found my voice. Now I’m strong. So stand back!”

The fact is, of course, as human beings we are all essentially equal, which is what we’re fighting for.

But by holding on to this attitude, we are perpetuating the very patriarchal way of living that we are trying to change.

The alternative, says Terry Real, is “Soft Power.”

Soft Power is an art to be learned that translates into standing up for oneself while simultaneously cherishing the other person or people in the same breath.

Real guides partners in intimate relationships, but applies his philosophy to all of society; the goal is to truly understand that we are not only connected, we are of the same stuff—to Earth and everything in it and on it.

As humans, we are truly all the same underneath the trauma. Nothing separates us except our lack of awareness.

Therefore, we must be able to look in the mirror.

Only by closely examining how we live out the patriarchy in our daily thoughts and actions will we be able to change our way of living from power over to power with others.

The only way God and Moses knew how to teach us to care (about the widow, the orphan, the stranger in our midst) was by clobbering the people over their heads.

Now that we know differently, does it mean we never get angry when we talk about dismantling patriarchy and racism?

That would be impossible, and sometimes anger is appropriate.

But here’s a start:

Towards the end of this week’s reading, the people are beseeched to “cut away the thickening around their hearts and stiffen their necks no more. וּמַלְתֶּ֕ם אֵ֖ת עׇרְלַ֣ת לְבַבְכֶ֑ם וְעׇ֨רְפְּכֶ֔ם לֹ֥א תַקְשׁ֖וּ עֽוֹד׃

Along with awareness, and a desire to repair any damage we’ve done in the process, the first step is always a softening.

Let’s try it. Again.

Let’s try looking in the mirror.

Let’s increase our practice of examining our thoughts, words, and actions.

Let’s notice when we are judging ourselves or others, putting one of us in a position of shame or grandiosity.

It’s a good time for this work, as we approach the month of Elul and the High Holidays.

Because getting beyond patriarchy starts with each of us.

And say Amen.