Golublog: An Anthropology Blog: A Drash on Ki Tissa

This week’s portion is famous for the story of the Golden Calf, or as I call it the UCI or “unfortunate calf incident”. Yes, I know that sounds funny. But listen: I am a teacher, and so I face UCIs all the time. They happen every day. They happen to students who have been underserved by their schools: I watch the light go out of their eyes when I hand out a challenging reading and they give up before they read the first word. They happen to the straight A students, who sit down with my syllabus and carefully count out the points they will earn, so focused on getting an perfect grade that they have forgotten what it means to get an education. They happen to administrators and parents when they ask in anger and bewilderment why I am teaching their children to be complete human beings, citizens, when what I am supposed to be teaching them is ‘job skills’. We are getting close to Vayikra now, and the Torah is transforming from a story of our people to detailed instructions about how we might live. So I think now, the end of the narrative, is a time to underscore what was at stake in the UCI: we Jews believe the greatest gift God has ever given us is a book (or, technically, a scroll). At Sinai humanity has a profound, intense, history-altering encounter with the omniscient and omnipotent sovereign of the entire universe. And she gave us homework. Just think about that. UCI happen when we bet against ourselves. We have a tendency to do this — to underestimate what we are capable of.[I'm cutting a portion here about my family since, well, this is the Internet]. Rabbi Hartmann says that there is a fundamental tension within Judaism between our submission to God’s will on the one hand, and our profound human adequacy on the other. We believe in the Rabbinic power to innovate, interpret, and elaborate on Torah and Mishnah. We believe that God loves us so much that she made us her equals (at least in some respects). But at the same time we believe that we are unequal partners in this relationship: Abraham argues with god about the fate of Sodom and Gommorah, but then fails to object to God’s demand that he sacrifice Isaac. I see this same dynamic at work in this parshah, which contains both the UCI and detailed descriptions for building the ark. One of these sections is about humans ability to follow God’s law, the other about the need to submit to God’s authority because we can’t be trusted with the details. But which is which? I write a lot, and when I was exhausted and delirious from raising my kids back when they were like six months old I wrote something that I thought was good but I knew I was too tired to know what was going on. And so it sat unloved on my hard drive until now, when I have decided to insert it into this drash. It is called “If Christians and Jews imagined life as a college class” If Christians and Jews Imagined Life As A College Class The Christian shows up for the first day of class and God says: “You are starting out with zero points. As you do assignments you earn points. Your final grade will be based on how many points you earn by the end of class.” The Christian gets to work and after a few classes realizes “This course is really difficult”. They work as hard as they can but at the end of the semester they realize they have gotten 50% — an F. “Man,” thinks the Christian, “I worked as hard as I could, and all I got was a failing grade. I must be a terrible, stupid, lazy person.” The Christian schedules an time to meet with God in God’s office. They tell God how they feel and God says “to be honest, I made this class so hard that I thought you would get maybe 30% of the answers, so 50% is much better than I expected. And hey, who said we had to follow what’s on the syllabus? I can tell you did your best and I appreciate the effort — extra credit all around!” Then god takes the Christian’s final paper, puts a big bright sticker on it that says “A++++!!!!” and the Christian realizes that they aced the class and everything is wonderful and is like: Wow what a great guy God is. The Jew shows up for the first day of class and God says: “Congratulations everyone, I’m giving you all of the points available in the class. You now all have an A+. As you do assignments you must keep from loosing points. Your final grade will be based on how many points you’ve lost by the end of class.” The Jew gets to work and after a few weeks thinks “man, this course is really difficult”. The Jew meets with God in God’s office and says “this class is really really difficult — did you know that?” And God looks at him with a serious, chiding sort of compassion and says “I honestly wouldn’t have given you this assignment if I didn’t think you could hit it out of the park.” “Well,” says the Jew, “could you at least read over a rough draft of my paper and give me feedback before I turn in the final version?” And God says “No.” The Jew kills himself studying, and at the end of class he adds up all the points and realizes he’s got a 92%, an A-. Triumphant at his success he says to God: “Look God, I worked as hard as I could and I got 92%! I managed to keep that A you gave me!” Then God looks the Jew up and down and says “that’s pretty good, but… where did the other 8% go?” * * * My point is this: when we first read the story of the UCI, it appears to be about human fallibility. And when we first read the instructions for building the tabernacle, it appears to be about our human capacity to fulfill the mitzvot that God gives to us. But I think it is the other way around. The detailed rules for the construction of the tabernacle look to me like micromanagement — the kind of thing you do when you’re not sure your employees are up to the task. And I think God is angry about the UCI not because the Israelites have given up on God, but because they have given up on themselves. When we put our trust in idols we are not giving up on god. We are giving up on our dignity and fundamental adequacy to engage as partners in the work of creation — the very dignity and adequacy. And that dignity and adequacy is what God gave us so that we could appreciate her most precious gift to us: homework.Shabbat Shalom.