“Shoftim:” T’shuvah, Returning and Turning Points

At what point do we decide, collectively and individually, that it’s been enough? And what does that “enough” look like? 

I’ve been thinking so much about the coming month of Elul, our Jewish entry into turning/change and returning--returning to our true nature, returning to “God.”

In this week’s Torah reading, Shoftim, the Israelites are given many laws they are to follow as they establish themselves in a new land, to live a new life. It is here that we find the famous line, “Justice, Justice shall you pursue: Tzedek tzedek tirdof.” 

Great idea!

Some of the laws sound really good, like, when you take over another people’s land, don’t chop down or destroy any fruit bearing trees, especially not for building your houses; have respect for the tree and the life it gives. 

Another good law: if you are a king, don’t amass too much silver and gold. 

And another: Don’t go back to Egypt--to Mitzrayim, the “narrow place,” for any reason! 

Other laws sound really harsh to modern sensibilities, like the punishment for worshiping other gods when you’ve been told not to. Since you should know better, because you’ve been told again and again, you get stoned to death for doing so. 

Meanwhile, in our “First World” country, we chop down trees and destroy forests to build pipelines, and we still have the death penalty, so let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. We’re still living in the narrow place. 

What is the turning point where people make the collective decision, “No more destruction, no more torture, no more abuse! Enough!” As individuals, it could be in a job, a relationship, a marriage, or a way of behaving, thinking, being. 

Like, you’re no longer going to live with fear and panic. 

Yeah, that’s mine: living with fear and panic--not always, by any means, but it’s become very prominent for me again these past months since the beginning of the pandemic and being sick.

Those close to me know that I struggle with this, but it’s really hard to put it out there to the general world. There’s so much lack of or misunderstanding and judgment still in the world and in our culture when it comes to people with anxiety and any kind emotional problems or mental illness. I judge myself. 

Yet repeatedly this week I was reminded in different contexts that I am not alone, that there are countless other people who know exactly how I feel because they also experience or have experienced the same thing; I am not alone. 

At the same time, for each of us who suffers in this way, or in any way, can there be a moment when we wake up and say, “Enough! I can’t live this way anymore! I’m sick of it and I reject it!” Maybe it was a gradual, creeping awareness, or maybe it took a lot of work.

What is that work? 

I think it’s about building faith and trust that we will be okay, that the world will be okay, that this is not the end. The reminder is there again in Torah: “Do not bow down to false gods. I’ve been telling you this and you’re not listening.” God is frustrated with us. He wants us to start paying attention. We are to be stoned to death if we don’t. 

Sounds harsh, no?

Often we think of false gods as money and possessions, but false gods can be anything that takes our attention away from what really matters. Fear mongering and panic are what sells the news and it takes us away from love of other people and the earth and the inter-connectedness of us all. In the narrow place of fear and panic, we forget that God is One. 

Sometimes we need to be clobbered over the head to start paying attention. Or maybe we can start paying attention to the little things that happen all the time. For me, each week there seems to be a theme to the messages that come into my life. They come from seemingly disparate places and voices, and it always surprises me, but then I think, I guess that’s God’s way of communicating with me. “You are not alone; countless other people know exactly how you feel.” God is One. 

I don’t want any more clobbering.

When I live from a less constricted place, the fear and panic diminish, and sometimes even go away completely. I know I’m not alone in my panic and fear, but I’d rather be not alone in my faith. 

If we build faith together, we can come out of the narrow place and put away the stones. Or use them to build houses. Then we don’t need to chop down any more trees.