Numbness, Knowing, & Noach

I’m always embarrassed to say it, but I’ve basically stopped listening to the news. Maybe I’m trying to numb myself to the pain.

I don’t want to hear daily about all the climate disasters. I don’t want to hear about all the gerrymandering and redistricting to capture votes. I know how messed up our system is.

And I’m tired of feeling hopeless. And of screaming. It just hurts my throat.

I also cringe as I walk past the ever-growing, overwhelming number of people competing for storefront sidewalk space on my street corner, begging for some coins.

I cringe as I walk by, and don’t give them money anymore.

I feel guilty, despite the complex issue of giving money on the street, because I’m supposed to be able to look the suffering square in the face and feel it.

I’m supposed to empathize and offer something. I’m supposed to be Mother Teresa.

It could be argued that developing empathy is the center of all religious and spiritual practice.

“Love your neighbor as yourself,” is a major tenet of Judaism, to be sure—no matter how annoying your neighbor may be.

What a terrible rabbi I will make, I think to myself in those moments.

But the truth is, I do feel the suffering. So very deeply.

Then I hear this doctor guy, Zach Bush, M.D., and he blows my mind.

“One of the worst things is empathy,” he says.

What???

What he wants us to go for is “non-empathic presence.” When someone is sick, suffering, in pain, don’t feel their pain with them. Empathy drains the suffering person’s energy. “I’m a caring person,” is a story we’ve written about who we are as good, empathetic beings. It just makes us feel better about ourselves as humans.

Instead, he says, just be present with them. Don’t try to distract them from their pain, or to numb them with drugs. Skip the empathy. Just connect and communicate with them through touch, which is the best pain reliever ever.

This week in Torah, God destroys all human and animal life on Earth, save the one famous man (and his family) that has shown up in coloring books the world over— along with samples of all the animals on Earth.

God is deeply disappointed by the wayward humans he has created, and chooses one amongst them all: the “only righteous person of his generation,” to start again.

After the flood, when God sees the terrible destruction God has wrought on Earth, God regrets God’s actions. Thus God promises to never destroy the Earth in its entirety again. Now that his anger has passed, he is no longer numb to the pain he has brought.

As Noah’s family begins to reproduce, and new generations appear, the people become very numerous, and they use their unique intelligence and dexterity, along with their communal, tribal bent, to work together to build a tower. This tower reaches all the way to the sky/heavens: the Tower of Babel.

As God is watching this unfold, God fears that these humans have forgotten that there is a much greater, Infinite Intelligence out there, a great mystery we call “God.” God fears that the height of the tower, all the way to the heavens, signals their belief they are just as powerful as Infinite Power.

So God brings them down a notch, confounds their speech so they no longer share a common language. Communication becomes more difficult.

As we ponder the imminent destruction of life on Earth, of the real possibility of the extinction of human and non-human species, this story strikes a little too close to home.

Many of us are way too aware of the havoc our species has wreaked on Earth.

We are frustrated by our inability to communicate with those we disagree with, even when we literally speak the same language and share the same culture. Yet—we must convince all those non-believers in order to save us from doom!

On the one hand, we appreciate our species’ beautiful and unique intelligence that allows us to create and build truly awe-inspiring structures—including this new technology that allows us communication across the globe.

On the other, we are appalled at how selfish and greedy we can be. We want everyone to understand that we must learn to share our resources. And we weep as we see how the technology we’ve built is used to kill and spread hatred.

Imperfect, contradictory beings, full of so much love and hatred. Thus the Mystery made us—a strange mixture.

We might wonder if God was right to be so deeply disappointed in humanity as to destroy everything.

Yet, there was one thing God couldn’t destroy, and God must have known this: though all plant life is underwater for a long time, it revives and returns to health without any help at all!

God somehow knew that the Earth could heal herself.

There’s an amazing piece of science Zach Bush shares. He says that, with only a tiny percentage of farms changing their practices, the Earth can regain her balance.

Just as beautiful and hopeful as this, the same goes for human consciousness; we don’t need to change everyone’s mind, just a tiny number in relation to the entire human population! We humans, like plants, communicate across space without even knowing it!

So if you’re involved in politics, trying desperately to do whatever it is you think will save our country or the world, do it with kindness and love.

And stop screaming. It only hurts your voice.

If you’re on Social Media, be kind, and don’t engage with those who are full of rage.

Just stop.

Stop and be present.

Put down the iphone.

Stop “death-scrolling” on Facebook.

Close out the Instagram—at least while you’re with family or friends.

Or even when you’re by yourself. Be present for and with yourself.

Just be present, and stop trying to avoid the pain you feel.

If you’re in nature, tell the birds and the trees and the plants how you love them. Touch them. Cry with them. Tell them you’re sorry. They have the intelligence to feel you. They are much better at communicating than we are. Watch Fantastic Fungi, if you’re not convinced.

And when you mess up and lose it or yell, don’t beat yourself up. Try to repair it. Do teshuvah. And forgive yourself. Remember we’re all that weird mixture of humanity.

When someone else acts in a way you find difficult, remind yourself that maybe you’ve done that, too. Try to understand where they’re coming from. Be loving. Forgive them.

The Earth is very forgiving.

We can be, too.

And together we can heal the world.

And say Amen.