JEWISH ANIMISM IN HEBREW BIBLE PART 1
The Hebrew Bible is an incredibly rich resource for reclaiming an authentically Jewish Animist world view. That’s because there’s an incredibly rich variety of claims that the more than human world is alive. We are going to have two classes on this, the first focusing on material in Genesis, and the second on some material from other books. I’m not offering anything resembling a comprehensive retelling of all the ways our ancestors were Animist. In particular, I am not going to do the Goddess material, which I will save for a different class I’m offering this year.
CREATION
Let’s start with creation. Genesis offers us two creation stories. The first is cosmic centric describing how the universe was created. It is told in Genesis 1:1 to 2:3, turning to humans at the very end. The cosmic creation tale only turns to humans at the tail end (1:26-2:3) Humans are created male and female, in the divine image. (1:26-27). God then says to them “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and dominate the fish of the sea and the birds of the skies and every animal that creeps on the earth.” (1:28). God then continues and tells them that the vegetation he has created is for food for them “and for all the wild animals of the earth and for all the birds of the skies and for all the creeping things on the earth, everything in which there is a living being; every plant of vegetation for food”. (1:30)
The verses granting humans dominion over the world are obviously problematic, given what we have made of them and the mess we have made of the more than human world. It is a totally plausible reading of them to suggest that humans are better than the rest of creation and should feel free to exploit the more than human world, as we do today.
I want to offer three counterpoints to this typical reading. The first is Maimonides, an unlikely ally. Here’s what he says: “this [the second creation story] narrative merely describes humanity’s great power and concurrent responsibility. It does not endorse the view that the world exists for our sake. Rather creation exists for its own sake.” Quoted in Fink, Between Dust and Divinity in Ellen Bernstein Ecology and the Jewish Spirit p.233) Further, “If the whole of the earth would not constitute even the smallest part of the sphere of the fixed stars, what is the relation of the human species to all these created things, and how can one of us imagine that they exist for our sake and because of us and that they are instrumental for our benefit?” (Guide to the Perplexed III:14)
A second is R. David Seidenberg’s extensive work on what it means to be created in the divine image (Seidenberg, Kabbalah and Ecology). Seidenberg compellingly argues that it is not only humans who are created in God’s image—but also the stars, the sun, the creepy crawlies etc. He draws on Maimonides, but also a wide variety of other traditional Jewish sources. Therefore, being created in the divine image does not privilege humans or make us better than anything else. This is validation of the core Animist thesis that all beings are on the same ontological level.
Third counterpoint is that it is entirely plausible to read the text, including 2:15, the famous “to till and to tend” (or “work and watch over it”) line as an argument for stewardship, rather than exploitation. The verb used here for work is the same verb as is used for the priestly work of offering sacrifices (it’s also the same verb used for slave work in Egypt). The verb used for tend or watch is the same very as when we guard a dead body before burial. So it is plausible to me to read 2:15 as a command to do sacred work of stewardship. It’s hard for me to imagine that exploitation could be defined as sacred work, though there is certainly a tradition of claiming that taming the wilderness (which always includes indigenous people) is somehow sacred.
If we are to survive as a species and, at least in my mind, if we are to be aligned with creation and the divine, we need to find ways to experience ourselves as part of creation, rather than viewing ourselves as lords of it. Either of the two counterpoints I offered can help. If we view our divinely assigned task as stewarding the land rather than having dominion over it and taking what we want, that would make a difference. If we view all of creation as being created in the divine image, then to despoil the more than human world is to despoil the divine. That would make a difference.
Which, if any, of these two counterpoints speaks to you? In what contexts, if any, do you have experience with feeling part of creation rather than dominating it? What, if any, are the practices you can do that will center the more than human world rather than being centered just around humans?
COVENANT
The Covenant with Noah and all other beings is an expression of an indigenous Animism. This is a covenant with all beings; not just with humans. “God said to Noah and to his sons with him, “I now establish My covenant with you and your offspring to come, and with every living thing that is with you—birds, cattle, and every wild beast as well—all that have come out of the Ark, every living thing on earth…to [not] destroy the earth” (Genesis 9:8-11) The fact that the covenant is with all beings, and not just with humans, implies that these other beings have agency and standing.
Animistic views of the world (as I’m using the term here) are characteristic of indigenous people. In a righteous court of law, a human being could file suit on behalf of any or all of these living beings against the destruction of their habitats because they have a covenant with the divine that they not be destroyed.
And yet, “The fear and the dread of you shall be upon all the beasts of the earth and upon all the birds of the sky—everything with which the earth is astir—and upon all the fish of the sea; they are given into your hand.”(9:2) As an empirical statement, sure, almost all other beings should fear humanity and our pernicious influence on the ecosystems of the earth with the exception of certain species who have benefitted enormously from their partnership with humans, as outlined by Michael Pollan in The Omnivore’s Dilemma. Squirrels, cows, corn, white tailed deer, cats and dogs are examples of species where it can be said that they have domesticated us.
But is the Torah giving us an empirical claim or a moral claim when it says that other beings will fear and dread us? Is it a simple statement that all other earthly beings should be afraid of we humans, or a moral claim that we have the right to do whatever we want to them? There’s an obvious long and vile history of reading this as a moral claim. But what if we read it as a simple empirical claim about the way things are? Then perhaps we as humans need to become aware of our ability to dominate other species, just as we need to become aware of our possibility for evil.
Wendell Berry insists that right relationship with the more than human world has to involve an economic relationship. He criticizes Romantic Poets for viewing nature as just a place to retreat to and a balm for the soul from the hubbub of civilization. He advocates for a productive relationship with the more than human world, whether that is gardening, wild foraging, working with wood in some way or raising animals. He is a compelling and lonely voice with the only sort of parallel in Jewish tradition being found in A.D. Gordon to the best of my knowledge.
Is Torah making an empirical or a moral claim about the relationship of humans and all other beings? What do you think about potential legal rights of other beings in human courts? What do you think constitutes right relationship with other beings and how might you manifest that?
TREES AS TEACHERS
Trees as teachers. Genesis Chapter 12 begins with two Hebrew words which have a range of interpretations. Lech Lecha can be translated as an emphatic versio of “Go” so something like get going. But it can also be translated as something more like go into yourself, to dig deep into who you are. This is not some kind of exotic translation. Aish, not exactly a paragon of left wing Judaism translates Lech Lecha as “go to yourself.” (https://aish.com/go-to-yourself/)
So Abram gets up and goes from Haran and literally the first place he stopped was alon moreh. Alon Moreh, as I learned from R. Zelig Golden, literally means “Teaching Tree.” I’ve read translations that include the “plain of Moreh (Artscroll) or “terebinth of Moreh” (JPS). These translations miss the fact that Moreh means teacher. It’s an easy interpretation to say that Abram is told to go deep into himself, and the first place he stops (along with his whole entourage) is a teaching tree.
One possible interpretation is that Alon Moreh refers to a sacred place where one can learn great mysteries. The place is made sacred by the sacred grove. Sacred groves as places of mystery and learning are common in indigenous practice. It is also possible (and these are not contradictory possibilities) that the place is named after a tree who teaches.
If you have never learned from a tree—now is a great time to learn this practice. We’re going to do a guided visualization in a few minutes, but nothing beats learning from an actual tree. Wander in some woods and find a tree to which you are drawn. Ask permission to sit and hang out with the tree (that’s good manners—you shouldn’t walk into someone’s house and start talking without being invited). Be with the tree. Share back and forth. It will feel a bit silly, but stick with it. Another practice is to sit in the woods and ask yourself what you can learn from the trees around you. How do the trees be in the world? What are the lessons for you?
Lest you think this is too weird and not Jewish, the Ari, Rabbi Isaac Luria believed that trees were resting places for souls. He performed a tree ritual in the month of Nisan to redeem souls who were caught in trees. (Howard Schwartz Tree of Souls, p. 165.) Rebbe Nachman of Bratzlav, the originator of Hitbodedut, was once staying in an inn and cried out loudly enough in his sleep that he woke up the whole place. He asked the innkeeper if the walls were made from trees that had been cut down as saplings before they were mature, and the innkeeper said yes and asked him how he knew. Then Rabbi Nachman said: “All night I dreamed I was surrounded by the bodies of those who had been murdered. I was very frightened. Now I know that it was the souls of the trees that cried out to me.” (ibid).
Read that slowly. Nachman asserts that trees have souls, just like humans. Trees can be murdered, just like humans. This is a statement of the philosophy of Animism, that all beings are alive and have equal ontological status, we are all just differently bodied. Imagine if we lived in a world where the clear cutters of a forest could be tried in court for murder of premature trees, or the different kind of creepy crawlies that depend on a diverse age forest? That would be a different world.
So if talking and listening to trees is good enough for the Ari and Nachman, we too can be with trees and listen to them. Here’s the exercise.
GUIDED VISUALIZATION
Ground. Feel your feet on the ground. Deep breaths. Close your eyes. You are walking on a path in the woods. There are trees all around you. Walk more slowly, you aren’t trying to get anywhere, you don’t have any appointments. Look for a tree or a grove of trees to which you feel drawn. (Pause). Once you identify the tree or grove, go over to her/him/them and introduce yourself. Tell the tree or trees that just like your ancestors Abram and Sarai, you’re supposed to learn from the tree. Ask permission to touch the tree or to sit against the tree if you want and start talking. Listen for the answers. What do you want to learn from the tree? What does the tree want to say to you?
