Rebuilding the Tower of Babel in a Nucelar Age

Reacting in part to recent missile tests by Iran and North Korea, President Obama and a unanimous UN Security Council last week endorsed a sweeping strategy to halt the spread of nuclear weapons and ultimately eliminate them. Is nuclear disarmament a religious issue? Is it a pro-life issue? Is support for nuclear disarmament a moral imperative? Should we pray for nuclear disarmament?

This week’s questions offer the panel a rare opportunity to elucidate an important distinction: in the field of Theology and Ethics the words “mutually verifiable” have no discernable meaning. We have all been confronted with the conundrum of pacifism: if a murderer held a gun to the head of your loved one, would you take their life or let them take the life of your loved one? The point of that question is, at the moment of crisis, the fog of fear and fury obscure even our most closely held morals. Disarmament then, the holstering of weapons, the cessation of testing and production, and the enforced inspection and validation of compliance is, to my mind, a necessarily political and diplomatic one. It is a process through which the infrastructure of destruction is torn down. It is a stepping back away from an unacceptable future. There is no place at the nuclear negotiating table for religion. Cool heads, undistracted by anything more than hard science and verifiable fact must be permitted to prevail in the tearing down of a possible future with which no one can agree.

But in the wake of those talks, outside the door of the conference room, when our attention can refocus on the construction of a plan for the future, there and then we need the framework of theology and the building blocks of ethical debate. All people of faith are compelled not just not to kill, but to heal what is broken in Creation. Obviously the production, arming and deployment of weapons of mass destruction of any kind is not in keeping with that mandate. We must ask ourselves, as citizens of the world, and as students of the Word, what lessons can we take from the Buddha, the Torah, the revelations of Mohammed or the life and work of Jesus of Nazareth. What is the picture of peace, the Kingdom, if you will, and how can we create it faithfully, with strength and unity? It is in answering these questions, in long and exhaustive dialog, in self examination and cross cultural exploration that our steadfast belief in a good God, in His will for us to come together as a whole people, and in our ability in His image to realize that goal, that Theology and Ethics is our best tool. In splitting the atom, like the builders of the tower of Babel, we aspire to a god-like power over Creation. But it is a desire for destruction, which is not God-like at all. To bring an entire planet into agreement on the sanctity of life and the insanity of mass destruction is accomplished one day at a time, one person at a time, one treaty at a time and ultimately it makes the words “mutually verifiable” immaterial.

Jesus of Nazareth: The Original Shock Jock

I am a political liberal, a student of the Bible and a person with at least half a brain so there are many reasons for me to despise Glen Beck and the raving TV and radio commentators of his ilk. But unlike many of my colleagues and peers, it isn't how insulting it is that bothers me. No, to be clear, it is not the method that makes me mad, after all, Jesus of Nazareth was a shock jock. No, it is the message: Jesus modeled response while Beck models reaction; Jesus was the Prince of Peace; Glen Beck pantomimes immolating a colleague on camera. And this is the critical point for me: Jesus preached living intentionally while the broadcast bullies of the modern era preach living irrationally.

Yes, Jesus was a Shock Jock, and a really good one at that. Jesus entered Galilee when it was in a period of tremendous cultural and economic upheaval. People were attracted to Jesus, he was charismatic, his message was thrilling and terrifying. Everywhere he went people crowded around him. Some shouted him down and some lauded him, but you have to admit, he got plenty of air time for his century. He pushed the cultural and political envelope of his era to its very limits and he encouraged his followers to buck the trend in their lives. Now, obviously Jesus never preached an "us and them" mentality for the kingdom of Heaven, but he did call his opponents bad names, and incite his followers to defy authority.

But here is where Jesus is different: Once, famously, he turned to his followers and said, "Does what I am saying offend you?" He told the crowd, in essence, "look down this path. If you follow me, that is the direction in which you will be going. Ask yourself, is that a world you want to live in? And are you willing to do the work to get there?"

Jesus asked his followers to think. Look at where you are headed and make an intentional choice, take a proactive step into a future you know you can live with. Beck and his buddies are not about thinking, they are not consciously moving toward a goal. They are tearing their hair out and screaming into the camera to tear down, to destroy. They never ask their followers "and then where will you be?" There is no promised land in their philosophy, only ashes.

To return to the question of comportment. I said above that unlike my colleagues, the brutality and boorishness of these media monsters was not the issue, and it is not. But, as was recently very coherently pointed out to me, it is still a very dangerous part and it places a significant burden on people like me. A registered voter, a graduate student at seminary, a mother and a writer, I am the target of the vituperous vitriol spewed out by the right in our media. The inflamed rhetoric and irrational behavior is designed to disgust and disillusion me. The objective is to revolt me so completely that I remove myself from the debate.

But you see, my favorite talking head tells me I can't. I must live not irrationally, but intentionally. I must walk on the path toward the future I want. And so must you, and every thinking breathing, articulate and reasonable person who would much rather turn away in disgust. Wen you are tempted to give up the fight to the revolting voices of the right, ask yourself, "Do you also wish to go away?" (John 6:67).

Fishers of Certain Men: A Teachable Moment for Atty General Holder

The issue here is obviously one of “separation of church state” but it is perhaps not the one we arrive at first. The Federal government cannot in good conscience fund discriminatory practices. Period. Eric Holder should renounce any memo or policy endorsing such a policy. However, as clear as that conclusion seems to me, I can imagine Mr. Holder, head in hands, sitting at his desk wondering why he has to do it in the first place. It should not fall to the Federal government to police the ethics of the Christian faith.

I sympathize, Mr. Holder, I have teenagers, too.

Once, in the urgency of school shopping, I handed my teenager some money and released her into the Mall. “Nothing inappropriate,” I advised her. “Nothing too short or too baggy, I don’t want to see your navel or be able to read the maker of any of your undergarments.” These are words I feel I should not have to say; after fourteen years she should know what is acceptable and what will be thrown out while she is at school.

An hour later she was standing in front of me wearing a cute pink tee shirt that covered all necessary parts admirably, bore the caricature of a cute little bunny, and, in big block letters, expressed a profoundly insulting sentiment. “It’s rude,” I said. “But not inappropriate,” she smiled back. I hissed, “You knew what I meant.”

The Washington Post tells us that World Vision, a faith based group receiving government funds, feels that requiring fair hiring practices “damages its identity and mission.” Any group whose “identity” originates in the Torah, the Gospels or the Qur’an is charged with the original non-discriminatory “mission”: to love one’s neighbor as oneself. If I was that irritated with my daughter over a tee shirt, imagine how Jesus feels when organizations formed in his name adhere to the letter of the law and ignore the spirit of his teaching entirely. Doubtless he did not clench his teeth and hiss his frustration as I did, but he did explicitly say, he had come “not to abolish the law but to fulfill” it. (Matt 5:17)

Federal money should not knowingly be used to fund discriminatory practices, regardless of how far downstream they are practiced. And institutions desiring to fulfill their faithful mandate must examine their practices to be sure that they honor its spirit in order to achieve its goals.

Lamed Vovnik and Lot’s Wife

“But Lot’s wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.”

Gen 19:26

I am always bothered by the story of Lot’s wife. It seems to be invoked when we wish to condemn someone’s frailty, their lack of trust or love or inability to adhered to God’s command for them. I disagree. I would like to try to redeem Lot’s wife.

It seems to me significant that Lot’s wife, who has no name, is trailing behind her husband. They are leaving town, and they are going uphill. Should she not be walking ahead of him? Should he not be ushering her away from danger and helping her along to be sure of her safe passage? He has no fear, evidently, of her tripping or becoming weary, of her falling behind for any reason. No, he is hot on the heels of Abraham; he is high tailing it out of town. What if he were to become concerned about her? What if he were to think, to suspect that she had fallen, had mis-stepped or buckled under her burden? He could not look back to see her, could he? No the only way Lot can be sure of his wife, of her safety, of her rescue, of her future, of her courage in the face of this terrible test, is to take a place in line behind her.

I like to imagine that this is why men help women through a door ahead of them. I like to think it is why men hold the arms of women, because they are concerned- not for the weaker sex, I think there is plenty of evidence that we are not the weaker sex- but for their beloved. When the most precious thing you have is in peril, you keep it in sight of you. How many mothers let their children wander out of sight in a strange park? How many rich men go weeks without checking their bank accounts? Not just rich men, for that matter? How many times a day does a builder drive past his building? How often to lovers call from the road? How many times a day does a mother check on her sleeping child – or more tellingly, how often does she walk away?

Why does Lot walk in front? I think she lets him. We let people hurt us. We let people put us out of place. Not because we want to, but because to be cherished is not something that can be asked for. It is not a request you make of a lover, but a secret wish that is granted in the whispers of the night. We hope against hope, we hold the undeserving dream of being the most important thing to the person who is the most important thing. And when we are set aside, when we are put behind, when they put themselves first we are in a quandary. We want them to be first, certainly. We would put them first ourselves, but there is a moment of jealousy, jealousy for ourselves. Because what we want, what we really want, is for them to love us not as much as we love them, but more than they love themselves.

It’s not healthy, but it’s the truest test of love. Will you put yourself behind me out of love for me? Will you walk behind; risk the sight, accidental and tragic, out of the side of your eye, to be sure that I make it over the crest of the hill safely? Will you set aside your needs in favor of mine? Will you want me more than you want you? Will you miss your run to walk with me? Will you stop golfing and start skiing? Will you set aside your computer and sit on the porch – even if it’s cold?

But here’s the catch: you can’t resent it. You have to do it out of your whole heart, not because I asked for it, not because I invited you. You must give yourself away freely and willingly. If you do not, you will carry the weight of your resentment your whole life. I will be able to see the burden bending your shoulder. I will feel the urge in you to step away. I will know the end is impending in a moment which should be lived for the now. And that is not love, its martyrdom.

Lot’s wife walked last. She let the men lead her, she followed in their footsteps. In all the depictions I have seen of her, she is carrying a load on her back. She is a beast of burden, last on the trail. No one will know if she falls back but she will catch the men if they stumble. She has put them first on this most important path in their lives.

Why does she look back? I wonder. Perhaps she is thinking of the nine. There are nine, at least nine very good people remaining in Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham negotiated with God, he pointed out that it would be unfair to destroy them all if even ten were good. This always bothers me. If ten are good, let Abraham search them out and rescue them all. But Abraham only asks if there are ten, he does not say who they are, he does not rescue them. He rescues Lot. Was he one of the Righteous? I don’ think so, he let his wife drag behind, afraid, unsure, and ultimately frail. So let’s do our Bible math. We know there are at least ten and that Lot is not one.

But we also know that his wife is one. How? Because she lets him walk ahead of her? Possibly, but not necessarily. Because she is married to Lot? If he’s not a good one, she’s not made good by being married to him? She’s saved by proximity to Abraham, not her husband. No, we know she is good because she does turn back. In the end, God relents and shows mercy on an entire nation because some small number were good. God looked back, after the pronouncement, and felt pity. So did Lot’s wife, in the final moments before she bridged the top of the hill, look back. She pitied her neighbors, her family and her friends. She hoped for God to show kindness one more time. She hoped for mercy. We are asked to love our neighbor as ourselves. We. None of us, are perfect. We sin by act and omission, we sin in our hearts, and sin lingers on the doorsteps of our lips. And yet we forgive ourselves (too easily perhaps) and go on loving ourselves day after day. Lot’s wife loved her neighbors in this way. Her neighbors, the people who lived in the worst town in Creation. Flawed and frail and disappointing, she loved them as she loved herself, with indulgent and unswerving forgiveness.

This is how I know there were only nine good people left in Sodom and Gemmorah: Lot’s wife was one of the ten. When she walked out of town, she put her husband before her out of concern and respect, when she walked out of town, she still had hope of God’s mercy for the people, even the unholy ones, behind whom she had walked in her time there. When she walked out, she still had hope – faith - that things would change for the better. Lot’s wife loved unselfishly, she loved at her own risk. She loved perfectly and unconsciously. She put her husband’s calling ahead of her heart, she spared a moment in defiance of his command to love her neighbor as herself. And yet all of this is not the evidence that convinces me that Lot’s wife was really good. I know she was good because God turned her into salt.

According to Jewish tradition, salt is a food that never spoils and G-d made a covenant with salt at creation that it would not spoil and last indefinitely. The priestly tithes and the kingship of David are compared to the covenant of salt to show that they, too, are forever. Also, salt is considered to be a product of underground waters and G-d made a covenant with those waters during creation that they will be used for sacrifices in the Temple in the form of salt. Lot’s wife, whose name we do not know, whose absence brought the number of good people under the agreed upon minimum, Lot’s wife, who looked back in mercy and brought about destruction, was good because God made her eternal. In the eyes of God, frail and humble, selflessly loving and senselessly hopeful, Lot’s wife had value beyond gold. She became more real in that moment, she realized her essence. Salt of the earth, was Lots’ wife. Without her and her kind there is no flavor, there is no preservation, there is no covenantal water, no “forever and ever amen.” Lot’s wife was the 10^th good person.

There is in modern Hasidism the concept of the Lamed Vovnik, the 36 “Righteous Ones.” They do not know who they are. They do not know one another. We as mortals do not know, really, who they are and they are in hiding. When one dies another is born. In one Midrash a town sneers at the wealthy miser on the hill all his life. After his death, the coffers of the local soup kitchen dry up. While there are 36 truly righteous, God promises to keep the world in balance. The Lamed Vovnik are said to emerge in the Talmud, but I believe they emerge in the Torah: with Lot’s wife. We never know her name but we know that without her, all of her world tipped into chaos. She loves selflessly, she loves absolutely and she loves unconsciously. And it is only after she is gone that we learn that she was Lamed Vovnik, one of the truly righteous. Perhaps we can only see true goodness in retrospect, when things are returned to their true essences.

Let us all make an effort to redeem Lot’s wife. She looked back, not because she was frail, but because she was essential. Let us all hope for the fate of Lot’s wife. Let us all hope to be the salt of the earth.