Ground rules

I happened upon an article by Rabbi Everett Gendler that begins with a quote from BT Chagigah 12b: It is taught: R.Jose says: Alas for creatures who see but know not what they see, who stand but know not upon what they stand. After R.Jose’s statement there is a lengthy debate in Tractate Chagigah about what makes up the earth and heavens, what pillars and foundations comprise the complex, majestic and mysterious world of which we are a part, and the worlds that extend beyond human comprehension.

Rabbi Gendler explores the binding covenant with God shared by all, a covenant that brings great responsibility and challenge. One essential way this covenant is expressed is through creation’s song, a song that isn’t known or heard until we cultivate humility, wonder and respect:“there is a vast symphony singing, if we could only hear..”—a vast symphony in the literal sense, not simply a figurative reference. All with breath will praise (Psalm 150)!

Rabbi Gendler isn’t just the author of the article I read today—he has been Michael’s teacher for years, and we were blessed to visit Everett and Mary two years ago as a family. Their home in the Berkshires nestled on acres of land they have lovingly tilled for decades is filled with song. Song not as a lofty, ephemeral or general expression. Song as note by note, dirt under your fingernails, sensual, specific and grounded. When the children first met Rabbi Gendler, a sparkle in his 90 year old eyes, they sensed he is a very special teacher. His gentle words guided us through treasures from all over the world, old maps and stories of his courageous work for justice.

I am holding this from Rabbi Gendler’s example and others who dedicate their lives to such sacred work: Setting ground rules for responsible forestry practices, or any environmental practices, is essential for survival. It is not that logging shouldn’t exist—it’s that we also need to allow holistic scientific data and ancient spiritual wisdom to infuse our policy, our collective agenda. It takes a whole host of groups with conflicting interests to gather at the table to set our future course, as well as set a trajectory for the healing of past and present trauma. As Michal Fox Smart writes (Genesis as a Foundation for a Jewish Environmental Ethic): …we may need to embrace the very tension which the Torah upholds: to acknowledge our separateness in order to take responsibility, and to recognize our creatureliness in order to apprehend our limits. We must formulate ethics which address humankind’s complexity: at once separate and unique, and connected and akin. For it appears that when either of these is over exaggerated or denied, upsetting the delicate balance between them, living beings will suffer.

We can apply these lessons (as Rabbi Gendler has done from the American South to India), to the devastating divide between communities—neighborhoods, cities, countries and nations. It doesn’t take much these days to make my heart quicken, a sickening in my stomach, when recalling (or imagining future) excruciating conversations on a whole range of issues. In today’s context and realities, where to even begin or continue these conversations? How do we feel authentic in our words and deeds? When do we feel trapped and frightened?

But then I remember this hope and practice —before any conversation—a shared request to set ground rules together. We may come with different truths, we may emerge with different truths, but perhaps the collective effort in setting our table together can allow us to stay at the table, and eventually, see and stand with deeper nuance and understanding. Perhaps this can lead us to a greater sense of abundance in our hearts and minds, a greater capacity to listen and learn? Perhaps this is what can help us make our way as healthier, more connected beings and communities, people filled with song.