Friendship and Covenant

Imagery of Abraham as “God’s friend” offers a path for exploring relationship with the divine, linking themes of Lekh Lekha (Genesis 12:1-17:27) and its prophetic reading (Isaiah 40:27-41:16) to later Jewish text and post-collapse struggle (touched on in last week’s post, Where Now?“).

Avraham Ohavi [My friend, lover, beloved]

The expression “Avraham ohavi” is found in Isaiah 41:8:

וְאַתָּה יִשְׂרָאֵל עַבְדִּי יַעֲקֹב אֲשֶׁר בְּחַרְתִּיךָ זֶרַע אַבְרָהָם אֹהֲבִי׃

But you, Israel, My servant,
Jacob, whom I have chosen,
Seed of Abraham My friend
— Revised JPS via Sefaria; more translations/notes

This verse is part of the haftarah for Lekh Lekha. The same expression is also found in Sefer Yetzirah [Book of Creation, or Book of Formation] where “Abraham, God’s friend” is linked to covenant and seed, as in Isaiah, and also to mystical/meditative connection with the divine:

The radical assertion of Sefer Yetzirah is that the divine-human relationship created via the meditative/magical practices of the Book of Creation is worthy of the language of covenant.

…God loves Abraham because Abraham learns how to play with creative magic and contemplation the way God does.

It is Abraham’s engagement with the cosmic mystery that God admires and rewards. Just as Sefer Yetzirah redefines the Temple as the cosmos, it redefines covenant as the development of cosmic consciousness. This covenant extends, by implication, to the reader of teh text, who now has also conducted the ritual of letter combination and world-temple visualization. The conclusion of the book, by implication, grants covenant to the one who has just read and practiced it.
–Rabbi Jill Hammer, Return to the Place: The Magic, Meditation, and Mystery of Sefer Yetzirah (Ben Yehuda Press, 2020), p.261

Before Abraham turns up in the final verse, Sefer Yetzirah does not feature narrative characters. Water, breath, fire, Hebrew letters, Wisdom, and God-YHVH act or are acted upon. Aspects, or rulers of, space, time, and living bodies are identified — called in one section “Dragon,” “Wheel,” and “Heart,” which sound like possible character names — but action and object are not clearly delineated. In fact, R’ Hammer cites Karen Barad’s theory of agential realism, suggesting that all involved in Sefer Yetzirah are intra-actors.

So, what is Abraham — or any narrative character at all — doing at the close of Sefer Yetzirah?

R’ Hammer explores the choice of Abraham — rather than, e.g., Moses or Solomon — as “exemplar who ends the story.” She suggests that Abraham, as a spiritual forebear of Christians and Muslims as well as Jews, sets the book “beyond tribe”; in addition, Abraham’s biblical story centers individual, rather than collective or institutional, relationship to God (p.257). Moreover: “Abraham becomes the reader, the seeker, the adept who follows in God’s footsteps” and “opens the elemental channels, the paths of Wisdom. God’s friend becomes a creator, a worker of the life-force” (p.256, p.262).

Post-Collapse Relationship Building

Facing Collapse Together” study group — with Rabbi Jessica Rosenberg, Derekh Travers, and Dean Spade — offered lots of food for thought. I was particularly struck by R’ Jessica’s teaching about the Jewish calendar recognizing institutional collapse with Tisha B’Av and then moving into smaller, shakier relationships through the high holidays and Sukkot.

The study group led me to the “Calendar Notes for a Summer of Collapse” series of ponderings. R’ Jessica also offered a vision of “Spiral Time in Collapse,” concluding:

…every day, trying to live, choosing our stories for the sake of protecting and cherishing life, choosing each other, protecting and cherishing each other. To be in as honest and specific a story of the past, and living into as clear a vision of the future as we can, together.
— R’ Jessica Rosenberg, “Spiral Time in Collapse”
Dvar for Erev Rosh Hashana 5786, World to Come Twin Cities

Now, I am stumbling through what it means to read Torah in collapse, struggling to find what is fresh and nourishing in this still-new year, amid so much that is old, exhausted, and painful.

R’ Hammer’s approach to Abraham and Sefer Yetzirah offers heartening possibilities: Maybe we can read Torah this year in ways that build on our smaller, shakier relationships — within or apart from our collapsed/ing institutions; maybe we can emulate the creative energy of Abraham in Sefer Yetzirah, walking and co-creating with the divine without denying imperfection and brokenness around us; maybe we can lean into covenant born of friendship.

See also “Planting Trees, Stretching Glitter” about the eshel in parashat Vayera (Gen. 18:1-22:24) and the need to pause between big, dramatic moments in Torah/life.

Sefer Yetzirah 6:7

Some versions of Sefer Yetzirah close the final chapter before verse 7, ending with Abraham and covenant but not the friend imagery. (See earliest extant version at Sefaria and earliest recoverable text at Open Siddur.)

Here are two versions which include verse 7:

כשהבין אברהם אבינו וצר וצרף …נגלה עליו ” עשאו אוהבו

And when Abraham our father understood
transformed and transmuted…
God appeared to him
and made him God’s friend
Sefer Yetzirah 6:7, Rabbi Jill Hammer translation

כשבא אברהם אבינו ע”ה הביט וראה והבין
… נגלה עליו אדון הכל יתברך… וקראו אברהם אוהבי

When the patriarch Abraham comprehended the great truism, revolved it in his mind…the Lord of the Universe appeared to him…and called him his friend
Sefer Yetzirah 6:7, Gra Version, Kalisch (1877) translation

And when Abraham, our father, may he rest in peace, looked, saw, understood…Immediately there was revealed to him the Master of all, may His name be blessed forever… and He called him ‘Abraham, My beloved’
Sefer Yetzirah, 6:7, Gra Version, Kaplan (1997) translation

R’ Hammer uses the third-person “ohavo” in Hebrew, while the Gra version uses the first-person “ohavi.” Hammer and Kalisch use English third-person: “God’s friend”/”his friend.” Kaplan makes the reference to Isaiah explicit, using quotation marks and the first person: “My beloved.” (Kalisch and Kaplan translations at Sefaria; Hammer, Return to the Place, p.256).

Additional background on accessing this unusual Jewish text, in its various versions and translations; see also Return to the Place website for more on R’ Hammer’s commentary and translation.

Translations

Sefaria’s English translations offer no variety; other options, to suggest some different flavors, include Mia amato (Esperanto), qui m’aimait or mon ami (French), meines Freundes (German), and haver (Yiddish). BibleHub (Christian site) presents 38 translations into English, mostly relying on “my friend”:

  • 28 opt for “Abraham, my friend”
  • 2 use “my friend Abraham”
  • 2 use “Abraham, My lover” (1898 Young’s Literal and Literal Standard Version)
  • 1 version (1995) chooses “Abraham, my dear friend”
  • 3 use “beloved / beloued” (Coverdale 1535, Bishop 1568, Julia E Smith 1876)
  • 1 uses “whom I have loved” (Brenton’s 1844 translation of Greek Septuagint*)
  • 1 uses “friend, whom I have strengthened” (1933 Lamsa translation from Aramaic**, incorporating the expression “strengthened” [וּמַתְקֵיף לֵיהּ / וַיְחַזְּקֵהוּ] from verse 7)

*Greek: σπέρμα Ἀβραὰμ ὃν ἠγάπησα. See JPS commentary below.

** Aramaic uses “r’chimi” [זַרְעֵהּ דְאַבְרָהָם רְחִימִי]; Jastrow dictionary says r’chem = “beloved, friend, lovable.” The final phrase seems to incorporate an expression from verse 7 — “strengthened with nails” [וּמַתְקֵיף לֵיהּ בְמַסְמְרִין / וַיְחַזְּקֵהוּ בְמַסְמְרִים] — which Rashi explains refers to how nails reference Shem, a blacksmith who made nails and bars for the Ark: “Shem strengthened Abraham to cleave to the Holy One, blessed be He, and not to move.”

Seed of Abraham My Friend. Hebrew ‘ohavi; literally, “Who loves Me.” Ibn Ezra stressed the active force of the verb and distinguished it sharply from the passive sense (“who is loved by Me”); cf. Avot de-Rabbi Natan, B, 43). A reversal or softening of this theological point occurs in the Septuagint, where a relative clause is used (“whom I have loved”). 2 Chronicles 20:7 speaks of the land given to the “descendants of Abraham,” God’s “friend.” These variations reflect ongoing theological considerations and applications. The tradition of God’s love for Abraham occurs in the Septuagint a Isa 51:2, but not in the Masoretic tradition. God’s love for Israel occurs in Isa 43:4.” — The JPS Bible Commentary: Haftarot, 2002. Michael Fishbane. Commentary on verse 41:8, p.21

Sotah 31a:7

The Gemara asks: And with regard to Abraham himself, from where do we derive that he acted out of a sense of love? As it is written: “The offspring of Abraham who loved Me” (Isaiah 41:8).

Tractate Kallah Rabbati 8:1

ברייתא

ר׳ מאיר אומר כל העוסק בתורה לשמה זוכה לדברים הרבה ולא עוד אלא שכל העולם כלו כדאי הוא לו. נקרא ריע [אהוב] אוהב את המקום אוהב אה הבריות.

BARAITHA. R. Meir said: Whoever occupies himself with the Torah for its own sake merits many things; nay more, the whole world is beholden to him. He is called friend, *Cf. Isa. 41, 8, where it is used of Abraham. beloved, *Cf. Prov. 8, 17, I love them that love me. a lover of the All-present and a lover of his fellow-creatures, one who gladdens *Cf. Judg. 9, 13, [wine] which cheereth God and man. The Torah is compared by the Rabbis to wine. the All-present and his fellow-creatures.

The Predator’s Tools

Building communities based on truly transformative justice requires that we strive to “put down the predator’s tools,” according to adrienne maree brown. (We Will Not Cancel Us; more here“). Considering the predator’s tools raises serious misgivings about this week’s Torah portion and many Jewish teachings centering the injunction to pursue “tzedek, tzedek [“justice, justice” or “equity, equity”]. Reflecting on inherited ideas of justice is but one aspect of exploring collapse and the possibility of (re-)building.

This is part of a series on Summer of Collapse.

Updated for more clarity of expression in the “Justice, In/Out of Context” section and addition of “Some History” section below Friday afternoon (8/29/25, around 5 ET)

Justice, In/Out of Context

The Torah portion “Shoftim [Judges]” (Deut 16:18-21:9) is composed of rules about appointing judges and other legal matters. It contains one of the most quoted verses in the Torah, which begins:

tzedek tzedek tirdof…, …צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדֹּף
Justice, justice shall you pursue… (JPS 2006)
Equity, equity you are to pursue… (Fox/Schocken 1996)
— Deuteronomy 16:20

Teaching and preaching on this phrase is frequently separated from the context, in both narrow and wider senses.

In one narrow sense, focusing on the phrase alone and not the surrounding verses allows for generalizing the instruction beyond its most likely connection to the previous verse about accepting bribes. On another verse-specific level, many citations of “justice, justice” leave off the second half of the verse, which reads:

וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר־” אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ׃
…in order that you may live
and possess the land that YHWH your God is giving you! (Fox)
…that you may thrive and occupy the land that your God [YHVH] is giving you. (JPS)

Ignoring the bulk of the verse’s language allows for generalizing the instruction in ways the full verse doesn’t support. These specifics need not invalidate teachings centering “justice, justice.” And it’s essential to note that Torah text never stands on its own in Jewish tradition; it is interpreted and, in many cases, ameliorated by centuries of post-biblical teaching and legal rulings. Still, Shoftim reminds us that our inherited ideas of justice — in- and outside of Judaism — include ideas such as judicial death penalty (Deut 17:2-7), blood-avenging (Deut 19:11-13), “an eye for an eye” (Deut 19:21), and expectations of warfare (Deut 20).

Abolitionist efforts of any kind require serious examination of these and other punitive ideas we’re inherited and a careful look at how they frame our understanding of justice. Alicia Suskin Ostriker offers powerful teachings on the concept of justice and how it relates to Jewish theology — and ideas about the topic, more broadly.

Strange Invention

Decades ago, Ostriker remarked on the “strange invention of the Jews, God’s ‘justice'”:

It is a strange invention of the Jews, God’s “justice.” That God should be “just,” obliged to reward good men who obeyed his laws, care for widows and the poor and so forth, and punish evil ones who didn’t, was not a notion that occurred to the Egyptians, the Canaanites, the Babylonians, the Greeks. We appreciate, if we step back a bit from our theological assumptions, what a peculiar expectation it is that human justice should be intrinsic to a God, and still more odd, that human beings need to remind god about it….

…[God] was waiting for her [Job’s wife, or each of us] to issue her challenge. That is what really happens. God does not know how to be just until the children demand it….

She wants the unjustly slain to be alive and for singing and dance to come to the victims.

We already know what she wants. She wants justice to rain down like waters. She wants adjustment, portion to portion, so that the machinery of the world will look seemly and move powerfully and not scrape and scream. The children of God do not really say that God is just. But they invent the idea. They chew it over and over, holding it up to the light this way and that. And though blood drips from the concept, staining their hands, they are persistent. It is their idea. They want justice to rain down like waters. Justice to rain like waters. Justice to rain. Justice to rain.
–Alicia Suskin Ostriker, The Nakedness of the Fathers, p.232, 239, 240. Full citation below**

Ostriker was not writing from an abolitionist perspective or directly addressing the portion Shoftim. But her words point to important work we need to undertake around some basic concepts.

As we move through this period of collapse and consider which tools can still serve, it’s crucial to “take a step back” from many assumptions, in theology and beyond. As we move through Elul toward the new year, we are called to reflect on how our assumptions, and the structures built on them, contribute to harm and what steps we can take to remedy that.

Some History

For either Ostriker’s 1986 “Imagining of Justice” or the 1994 “Meditation on Justice,” a quick history reminder might be in order:

In the 1980s, gender was generally treated as a binary in- and outside of Judaism. Women’s leadership — or even full personhood — was not yet accepted in many parts of the Jewish world, although women were ordained as rabbis in some US movements beginning in the 1970s.

Keshet (For LGBTQ+ equality in Jewish life) was not founded until 1996 and, as their story reports: “Not too long ago, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer Jews were largely invisible in American Jewish life. Marriage equality wasn’t on anyone’s radar — certainly not on the radar of most synagogues and Jewish organizations — and there was not a single gay-straight alliance at a Jewish high school.”

Ostriker’s 1986 statement about being a Jewish woman — “I am and am not a Jew” — made sense across all Jewish movements, at that time, even in the equality-focused Havurah movement. By the time Nakedness of the Fathers was released in 1994, gender equity had advanced in some Jewish spaces; the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance was still years away, however, and issues of gender and sexuality in Judaism still had (have) a long road ahead throughout Judaism.

Keeping this history in mind adds layers to the call to “take a step back” from assumptions. And Ostriker’s reminder that we have to imagine justice — and how it might relate to the divine — couldn’t be more timely…. it was in 1986 and in 1994 and the countless moments I’ve found myself turning to her words over the decades.




** Full citation: “Job, or a Meditation on Justice,” from Nakedness of the Fathers: Biblical Visions and Revisions. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers, 1994.

Here’s a PDF excerpt — “Job, or a Meditation on Justice

An earlier version (1986), “Job, Or the Imagining of Justice” — originally in The Iowa Review — is available on Academia.edu.

Author bios at Jewish Women’s Archives and Poetry Foundation


Feature image is largely decorative: The words “Whose tools?” and a two-pan balance.

The Climb Up

We’re past, just barely, the lowest point in the Jewish calendar. The climb up from the bottom won’t be easy or swift. This post invites a pause at this point of transition between moments “of affliction” and those “of comfort.” (Calendar note below)

This post is part 4 of in series: “Calendar Notes for a Summer of Collapse

The first “haftarah of affliction” (prophetic reading of warning in lead-up to Tisha B’Av) is Jeremiah 1:1 – 2:3. In this passage, God’s conversation with Jeremiah begins with the prophet in the womb (1:5) and then protesting that he is still a youth and “doesn’t know how to speak” (1:6). It closes with a message of God’s nostalgia a long-past honeymoon period with Yisrael (Jer 2:2-3), more positive in divine recollection than in what the Torah tells us of those “wilderness years.”

The third haftarah of affliction, Isaiah 1:1-27, speaks of the People as rebellious children (1:2) and expresses frustration and despair. But it also offers instruction and hope. (See also “How?! A Roadmap for Transformation” post and PDF).) In one noteworthy expression, God proposes a kind of joint process: “Lekhu nah v’nivakh’cha [לְכוּ־נָא וְנִוָּכְחָה], Let us please walk/move together and let’s understand this.” There’s a lot to unpack here, in terms of power dynamics — see also Computing Failures and Babylon. But one key element seems to be that, even in the midst of disaster, there is a way out.

The middle haftarah of affliction, centering on Jer 2:4-28, includes a verse that seems to resonate with many of us this year in particular:

כִּי־שְׁתַּיִם רָעוֹת עָשָׂה עַמִּי
אֹתִי עָזְבוּ מְקוֹר מַיִם חַיִּים
לַחְצֹב לָהֶם בֹּארוֹת בֹּארֹת נִשְׁבָּרִים
אֲשֶׁר לֹא־יָכִלוּ הַמָּיִם׃

For My people have committed two evils: They have forsaken Me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, That can hold no water.

— Jer 2:13 (JPS 1917 trans, more translations at Sefaria); previous discussion

…Some of these remarks were shared in a slightly different form with Tzedek Chicago for Tisha B’Av 5785 and build on learning within that community…

Ancient-looking stone well, with wooden cover/shelter build on top. Image via Bernd via pixaby
Stone well with wooden cover. Image by Bernd via Pixabay

Moving Toward Post-Upset Relationship

One way to view this series is as a relationship growing up: That is, it begins in reading 1 with an unrealistic view of relationship — as is common both at the start (when expectations may be great) and later on (in missing the good old days that never were) — of romantic sort as well as in collectives and communities. It closes in reading 3 with the instruction to “Learn to do good” (Isaiah 1:17), which refuses to let the relationship just whither, and the request (1:18) that we work this out together to move ahead… in what might seem like a more equitable and/or realistic relationship.

In the middle, we have God acknowledging brokenness — cisterns that are not functioning in nourishing ways — while simultaneously reminding us that we have access to the source, the Fount of Living Water. As if God were saying, through Jeremiah: “You’ve already got Torah, but human language and problems have realy messed up how you’re perceiving and acting on it: You’re trying to hold Torah in shapes that broke long ago.”

The point is, I think, is that we are not without resources and power. In fact, God seems to be furious that we cannot figure out how to use what we have in ways that nourish everyone.

As Rabbi Brant Rosen, at Tzedek Chicago, and Rabbi Jessica Rosenberg, who helped teach the “Facing Collapse Together” workshop, and many others have said recently: Some things we used to rely on are broken beyond repair, and maybe that’s good.

We’ve got a complex set of traditions that we have to sift through to find what still holds water, so to speak. We’re going to have to find some kind of new container for Torah. We have to do this together in community, even as so many structures and relationships are stretched to the brink, if not beyond. The world is putting so much stress on each of us individually, and ripping at our collectives, so we’re going to have to work harder to be sure that we’re building community that honors each of our participants and helps us figure out how to create cisterns that reflect and nourish all.

Shifting Power

Part of the struggle is in learning how to function in, with, and in opposition to power…. which reminds of this prayer-song, published more than four years ago —

— and somehow more poignant, now, as Jews continue to grapple with what influence we have or do not have in government wherever we are (DC doesn’t even have a Senator or voting representation in the House); what avenues are open to stopping US support for genocidal war and land-grab in Gaza AND the West Bank; and what collaborative efforts are possible, given our shifting communal boundaries.

Maybe we’ve got to approach the border, like that sea, anew and find a new song.

Calendar Note:

Here, for anyone interested, is a summary of the time periods known as “The Three Weeks,” “the Nine Days,” and “the Nine Days of Jerry” (or the “Days Between”):

Haftarot of Affliction and Comfort:

Jeremiah 1:1-2:3 was read this year on Shabbat Pinchas, July 19, 2025.

Jeremiah 2:4-28 was read this year on Shabbat Mattot-Masei (July 26). Ashkenazi tradition ends with Jer 3:4; Sephardic tradition ends with Jer 4:1-2; some communities include additional verses for Rosh Chodesh Av.

Isaiah 1:1-27 was read this year on Shabbat Devarim (Shabbat Chazon), August 1.

Haftarot of Comfort begin with Isaiah 40:1-26, read in 5785 on August 9, on Shabbat Nachamu, and continue through Av and Elul toward the high holidays.

Summer Breather, Toward Fall

Calendar Notes for a Summer of Collapse

Part 1 (of 10)

Download PDF version — Summer Breather, Toward Fall


The Jewish calendar’s springtime is full:

  • Purim, Passover and the Omer Period, then Shavuot;
  • The months of Adar, Nisan, Iyar, and Sivan mark, on the one hand, winter’s overturning, the early (barley) and the later (wheat) harvests; on the other:
  • unveiling of hidden power, the beginnings of Liberation, the path to Sinai, and Revelation.

After all that, Tammuz holds one minor fast day.

The 17th of Tammuz starts the semi-mourning period of “The Three Weeks” (see below). And that period leads into preparations for the High Holidays and “THE festival” of Sukkot in the fall.

Tammuz itself offers a kind of breather. And For Times Such as These suggests it is a good month to ask:

What’s growing in your garden now?
What is feeding you? What does the sun have to offer?
Where do you see signs of what’s been destroyed in your communities?
What destruction needs attending to?
How are the hurts of your communities/histories manifesting in the collective body?
What grief is unresolved and impacting your community?
— Rabbi Ariana Katz & Rabbi Jessica Rosenberg. For Times Such as These: A Radical’s guide to the Jewish Year (Wayne State University Press, 2024), p.249

As Tammuz comes to a close — the month ends this year on July 25 — we can still ponder, carrying our answers or remaining questions into the next phase of the calendar.

The new month of Av begins on Shabbat, July 25-26 (2025) and For Times Such as These suggests that we ask:

NOTE: Av questions relating to love and sex seem better suited to the post-mourning days of the month; again, see calendar notes below, and check out For Times Such as These for more on the Jewish year.

God’s Questions and Ours

God has a lot of questions for us, according to the prophet Jeremiah*:

1) what? [מַה, mem-hey, mah] — Jeremiah 2:5

2-4) where? where? where? [אַיֵּה, alef-yud-hey, ayyeh] — Jer 2:6, 2:8, and 2:28

5) why? [מַדּוּעַ, mem-dalet-vav-ayin, madua] — Jer 2:14

6-7) whatsoever? or what-in-any-way? [מַה־לָּךְ, mah+lamed-kaf] — twice in Jer 2:18

8) how? [אֵיךְ, alef-yud-kaf, eikh] — Jer 2:23

Interrogatives are not unusual in biblical Hebrew. But eight in the space of 24 verses has an impact. Together, the piled up questions turn this passage into a kind of awareness demand.

Three of these interrogatives — what, where, and how — are part of questions we might already be asking ourselves, and each other, for the months of Tammuz and Av (see page 1).

In addition, the final question, Eikh [How?], hints at a theme in the next week’s readings, which are dominated by “Eikhah / How?!” as lament.

It’s important to ask specific, seasonal questions — and lean into the lament they raise. And it can be oddly comforting to know that the Jewish calendar is designed to stress this need. But it can also be helpful to imagine a less specific dialogue with the divine, one centered around questions as wake-up call: What? Where? Why? What-in-any-way? How?

———–

*Jeremiah 2:4-28 plus 3:4 is read as the second “haftarah of affliction” in preparation for Tisha B’Av. When, as in 5785/2025, the reading comes on Rosh Chodesh Av, two verses about new moons are added to close the haftarah: Isaiah 66:1, 66:23.

** For language geeks and trivia lovers: The form of “where” in Jeremiah 2 is lengthened from the simpler alef-yud, אַי. The Brown-Driver-Briggs biblical dictionary adds about this form:

used of both persons & things (but never with a verb [contrast אֵיפֹה (eifo, alef-yud-pei-hey)]; oft. in poet. or elevated style, where the answer nowhere is expected…

————————-

Broken Cisterns, Holding Water

Amid all the questions, this chapter of Jeremiah includes the following divine complaint:

כִּי־שְׁתַּיִם רָעוֹת עָשָׂה עַמִּי
אֹתִי עָזְבוּ מְקוֹר מַיִם חַיִּים
לַחְצֹב לָהֶם בֹּארוֹת בֹּארֹת נִשְׁבָּרִים
אֲשֶׁר לֹא־יָכִלוּ הַמָּיִם׃

For My people have committed two evils: They have forsaken Me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, That can hold no water.

— Jer 2:13, (JPS 1917 translation — a little old-fashioned, but chosen for its rhythms)

Water is often linked with Torah and with healing. So God’s complaint might be understood as accusing the people of failing to value God’s teaching and healing, and of creating faulty containers, unsuitable for gathering and preserving God’s life-giving offerings.

A related passage in Proverbs is used for much commentary on Torah, water, and healing:

שְׁתֵה־מַיִם מִבּוֹרֶךָ
וְנֹזְלִים מִתּוֹךְ בְּאֵרֶךָ׃

יָפוּצוּ מַעְיְנֹתֶיךָ חוּצָה
בָּרְחֹבוֹת פַּלְגֵי־מָיִם׃

Proverbs 5:15) Drink water from your own cistern [borkha],
Running water from your own well.

16) Your springs will gush forth
In streams in the public squares. [Revised JPS 2023]

These teachings, attributed the Talmud’s Rabbi Akiva, focus on the idea of bor [pit/cistern]:

In this season of contemplating all that is broken, in and around us, the Jeremiah and Proverbs images and Rabbi Akiva’s teaching are worth reflection. Here are some questions for this particular season:

  • In what ways have our Torah-containers broken, over time and more recently?
  • Are all such breaks “bad”? How might cracks help us move forward differently?
  • Have we (individuals, communities, society) forsaken divine teaching? How? And, if so, how might we remedy that?
  • What kinds of containers do we need for communal Torah today?
  • What kind of work is required to build what is needed?
  • How does the imagery in Prov 5:15-16 differ from that found in Jeremiah?
    • — Is one vision more universal than the other?
    • — Is either more hopeful?
    • — Many translations, including RJPS, opt for “your own cistern” and “your own well” rather than just “your cistern” and “your well.” What is “ours” or “our own”?
    • — Does sticking to our (own) Torah caution us from “bad” teaching? limit us in some way? Or does it encourage us to bring out our (own) Torah?
    • How does Akiva’s imagery differ from that in the biblical passages?
  • — How does Torah/water get into the cistern in the two sets of images?
  • — A pit may contain no water to start with, but is all Torah poured in by scholars?
  • — Consider, too, this story about Akiva himself, water, and a bor:

Speaking of Broken Things

Akiva (c. 50 – 135 CE) is a huge figure in the Talmud and later lore. For this summer of collapse, it’s particularly worth noting that Akiva was a controversial figure in the politics of responding to Roman occupation and that two of the most quoted stories about him involve major tragedy: his 24,000 students who died in a plague of disrespect (B. Yebamot 62b), and “the four who entered Paradise” (B. Chagigah 14b: Wikipedia’s basic page on the legend of Pardes is pretty useful).

The latter story brings us back to stones and water — in a strange, mystical way:

[Akiva told his fellow travelers:] When you reach the stones of pure marble, don’t say, “Water! Water!” As it states, “One who speaks falsehood shall not endure before My eyes” [Psalms 101:7] — Babylonian Talmud, Chagigah 14b

Four men entered pardes [paradise]: Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher ([“Other”], Elisha ben Abuyah), and Akiva. We are told: “Ben Azzai looked and died; Ben Zoma looked and went mad; Acher destroyed the plants [became a heretic]; Akiva entered in peace [or wholeness, “shalom”] and departed in peace” (B. Chagigah 14b again). Many teachers assume that this means Akiva was of superior mind or spirit. But the story does raise the question: What does it mean to survive in wholeness amid such disaster, for near friends and so many others? Returning to the For Times Such as These questions for Tammuz:

Where do you see signs of what’s been destroyed in your communities?

What destruction needs attending to?

How are the hurts of your communities/histories manifesting in the collective body?

What grief is unresolved and impacting your community?


Toward Tisha B’Av, “Within the Straits,” and Then Beyond: Calendar Notes for Tammuz and Av and Elul — here as PDF (if anyone needs another format for accessibility, please advise) —

Download Toward Tisha B’Av

I ask ‘How?!’

What name of God is an anchor for you through this period of ever-growing mourning? A recent study session* asked participants to focus on this question, based on text from Psalm 16:8:

Shiviti YHVH l’negedi tamid

“I am every mindful of the divine presence”

or “Divine presence is in front of me always”

Participants shared many names — Shekhinah [indwelling presence], Ruach Ha-olam [spirit/breath of all], Ein Sof [without end], “Matir Asurim — the one who releases the bound,” HaTzur (the Rock)….All that came to mind for me was: “Eikha?! [How?!]” —

and, after some further sitting, Psalm 25:4-5

דְּרָכֶיךָ יְהֹוָה הוֹדִיעֵנִי אֹרְחוֹתֶיךָ לַמְּדֵנִי׃

הַדְרִיכֵנִי בַאֲמִתֶּךָ  וְלַמְּדֵנִי כִּי־אַתָּה אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׁעִי אוֹתְךָ קִוִּיתִי כל־הַיּוֹם׃

Let me know Your paths, YHVH;
teach me Your ways;

guide me in Your true way and teach me,
for You are God, my deliverer;
it is You I look to at all times.

Later, I was reminded of another text, one which relates in a round about way to the Joseph story — from the current Torah reading cycle — and to my own confusions these days….

Joseph and “Your Own Pit”

Proverbs 5:15-17 says:

15) Drink water from your own cistern [bor-kha],
Running water from your own well.
16) Your springs will gush forth
In streams in the public squares.
17) They will be yours alone,
Others having no part with you

This image from Proverbs echoes language in the Joseph story: His brothers “took him and cast him into the pit [ha-bor]. The pit was empty; there was no water in it” (Gen 37:22).

Commentary on the Proverbs passage links water to Torah and describes an empty pit as a new learner:

R. Akiva says: It is written: “Drink waters from your pit.” A pit, in the beginning, is unable to supply a drop of water of its own, containing, as it does, only what is put into it. So, a Torah scholar, in the beginning, has learned and reviewed only what their teacher has taught them.
“and flowing waters from your well”: Just as a well flows living waters from all of its sides, so, disciples come and learn from the “flowing” Torah scholar.
And thus is it written: “Your fountains will spread abroad.” Words of Torah are compared to water. Just as water is life for the world, so, words of Torah, as it is written (Proverbs 4:22)
Sifrei Devarim 48:5

I am sure there is commentary linking this passage to the Joseph story….

…if anyone knows, please advise. Otherwise, I’ll look it up and update….

At the time of this incident, Joseph was young, still what we now call a teenager. And his behavior to his family does seem, at least on the surface, quite immature. So, it is tempting to view him as without Torah yet.

But, many young people have absorbed Torah in all sorts of ways. And different commentary, based on the expression “ben zekunim” (Gen 37:3), says that Jacob had been teaching Joseph “Torah of Exile,” learned from Shem and Eber. (More here.) So, what I’m thinking THIS WEEK — who knows what is to come — is that maybe Joseph did not yet have his own Torah.

And that leads me, as very little in this world does not, to Star Trek.

“I fly the ship”

I am still catching up on Star Trek: Strange New Worlds and recently saw Season Two, Episode 4, “The Lotus Eaters” (originally aired: July 6, 2023). In this episode, the whole Enterprise crew has lost their memories (but not skills), and the ship’s pilot is trying to remind herself of her role.

I’ve shared this to start at 46 seconds in —

WARNING: The only real violence in the last 3 minutes of this clip is to, and from, some space rocks. But the first 45 seconds are very violent and, on their own, add little to the scene with the pilot. So, view with that caution in mind, please.


When Ortegas yells at the ship’s computer — which she does not recognize, due to the odd memory losses, and so addresses as “miss” and “ma’am” — I was right there with her: “Stop the rocks!”

“Yes, ma’am, please, right now: Stop the rocks!” seems very close to what I’m yelling at civic leaders, at Jewish communities, at the universe, at God. All day. Every day.

So, I was immensely moved by her gradual realization that she might be able to do something to improve the situation, for herself and others: “I’m Erica Ortegas, and I fly the ship!”

Earlier in the episode, Ortegas is not pleased to lose a very rare opportunity for an away mission… with its chance to wear a spiffy fur-like hat in the local culture’s style. Her annoyance is presented mostly as a question of boredom. But don’t we all ask ourselves why we don’t get to be on the fun mission instead of stuck with work based on choices we made long ago? or maybe based on how others view us and our skills? I really resonated with her frustration when told she was needed on the ship instead.

…For more on this episode, here is a piece at Tor and one at Escapist Magazine (see also Memory Alpha)….

I hope Ortegas gets her away mission (although some do point out the perils of being a red-shirt in such circumstance). But I also loved watching her figure out that she could, indeed, do something other than yell about the rocks.

“I am… and I…”

On ordinary days, it can be a struggle to figure out what we can contribute to the world at any moment, however small and unworthy or huge and daunting it may seem. On days when space rocks are bombarding the ship and no one seems in charge… those are the days when all I seem able to manage is a cry of Eikha!?

Some days the answer is: well, I can empty the dishwasher or clean the bathroom. Or, I can answer this letter from a friend or send a gift for the neighbor’s new baby. Some days the answer is: I can assist a colleague in an important electoral campaign, or I can join a protest, or I can share news that seems crucial but ignored. And sometimes, the answer might be: I can sit right here until I figure out what it might mean to “plot a course” for myself and others.

And that brings me back to Psalm 25: Let me know. Teach me. Show me. Guide me.

It is painful to sit with the uncertainty while a crisis unfolds. But maybe sometimes getting to one’s own Torah means staying with the question: “I am Virginia Spatz, and I ask ‘How?!'”


* Rabbis4CeaseFire final shloshim study session


Featured image is from Star Trek Strange New World (S2E04). See, e.g., Escapist article or Memory Alpha.

Alt text for featured image: Enterprise pilot Erica Ortegas in uniform at her station, focused on flying the ship.

Bowie and Hendrix and God and Meir

Another set of resources that might or might not make sense outside of SVARA’s “Dazzling Wisdom of Rabbi Meir” Class. (The large PDF repeats two pages from earlier; plain text version, with image descriptions, follows.)

Sefaria Source Sheet on barzel [iron] and the verb chadad [or maybe yachad]

“Eyes and Teachers” in graphic layout and just text plus image descriptions.

Plain text version, with image descriptions (this is PDF, cannot upload RTF, sorry)

And So?

Reading the three texts of Shabbat Chazon [Vision] and Tisha B’av together can easily feed a sense of despair:

On this Shabbat of Vision, we stand at the river’s edge, imagining the world on the other side, the one our ancestors were, decades before, led to believe was just around the corner. And yet, as Deuteronomy opens, we are listening to Moses describe all the ways we’ve already disappointed and erred since taking those first tentative steps toward what we hoped would be better days. “How?! How can I bear the trouble/burden [torach] of you?” Moses moans (Deut 1:12; see PDF in previous post).

On this same Shabbat, we are treated to the prophet Isaiah’s speech from across the river, inside that imagined world. He, too, is explaining just how thoroughly we’ve failed, turning vision into a burden even God cannot bear: “[Your rituals] are become a burden [torach] to me…Your hands are full of blood.” (Isaiah 1:14-15). “How?! How did a dream of justice and righteousness become a city of murderers?” (1:21, paraphrased)

With Eikha, that imagined world has collapsed, and we are on the road out of the ruins. “How?! How did what once appeared so vibrant turn into this painful mess?!”

It seems that we’ve been crying, “How?! How did things get this bad?!” for so long that we might as well simply declare that nothing ever changes, that people are just as rotten to one another today as they were in Isaiah’s time or King Josiah’s or at the time of Exile, and our problems have been basically the same for 2700 years.

But we can also understand these three readings — offered to us at the lowest point in the Jewish calendar — as an age-old acknowledgement that there will always be failures, that the better days envisioned will always be ahead, that we are always facing an ending…with, we must hope, a new beginning beyond it.


“Where is the ‘so’?”

In the kinot for Tisha B’av, Chapter 13 offers a series of verses beginning “אֵי כֹּה” [ei ko], translated as “Where is the [ko-based] promise…?” (Sefaria offers the Hebrew for Chapter 13 but no translation.) Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik’s commentary, found in Koren Mesorat HaRav Kinot (Koren, 2010), explains:

In this kina, Rabbi Elazar HaKalir treats the word eikha as though it were a composite word consisting of two separate words, ei and ko, and therefore, the meaning of the word is not “how?!” but rather “where is the ko, the ‘so'”? Where are the promises that God made to the Jewish people using the word ko?
–p.318

The author of the kina is asking, R’ Soloveitchik says, why the promises were not fulfilled, and ultimately God responds: “Do not worry, the ko will be realized; sooner or later there will be no need to ask Eikha” (p. 327).

Maybe, however, we should read “where is the ‘so’?” from another angle: For nearly 3000 years, we’ve been warned that there is blood on our hands and work to be done. And so?

And so: 1) “Cease to do evil.” 2) “Learn to do good.” 3) “Devote yourself [to repair]” and, only then, 4) Atone/seek restoration of relationship.

Rabbi Nachman of Breslov taught: “If you believe that you can destroy, believe that you can repair.” (Meshivat Nefesh #38). We will always mess up, and always be called to keep going.

Vision, Blood, and Learning

UPDATED 8/7/22 evening with note on transliteration and link to epilogue

Three challenging Bible passages come together in the Jewish calendar in the next two days:

  • Devarim (Deut 1:1-3:12), the first portion in the Book of Deuteronomy (Deut 1:1-3:12);
  • Isaiah 1:1-27, the prophetic reading which gives this Shabbat it’s special name, “Shabbat of Vision,” or Shabbat Chazon; and
  • Eikha, the Book of Lamentations, read on Tisha B’av.

In some years, there are several days between Shabbat Chazon and Tisha B’av — offering a chance for us to take the admonitions to heart before entering into the deepest day of mourning the Jewish calendar and then beginning the slow climb toward the new year. Some years, like this one, leave no space between that last Shabbat of Affliction (or Admonition) and Tisha B’av. So we’re about to enter a complicated couple of days.


Historical and Literary Context

A bit of history is useful for viewing the confluence of readings for Shabbat Chazon and Tisha B’av:

  • Eikha/Lamentations is probably, current scholarship says, from the middle of the 6th Century BCE, although some parts may be older; the book as a whole is traditionally ascribed to the prophet Jeremiah (c. 650-570 BCE).
  • Jeremiah was active at the time of King Josiah (c.640-609 BCE), from the 13th year of the young king’s reign through Exile and the destruction of the First Temple. Substantial portions of the Book of Deuteronomy are also linked with King Josiah’s era.
  • The prophet Isaiah lived a century earlier, with the year 733 BCE a prominent date for his vision… which led him to criticize focus on ritual when what is required is tending to those in need:

Your new moons and your appointed seasons My soul hates…
Your hands are full of blood (stained with crime).
…Seek justice, relieve the oppressed….
How [Eikha] is the faithful city…once full of justice,
righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers!
–Isa 1:14-17, 1:21


How?!

That mournful cry, beginning with the word “Eikha” in Isaiah 1:21, is echoed in both Deuteronomy and the book of that name.

For the record, “eikha” appears only the once in Isaiah, four times in Eikha, and five times in Deuteronomy, plus twice in Jeremiah and once each in four other books of Tanakh. (See handout, “Eikha and Chazon,” below).

Isaiah’s vision prompts us to consider any number of collective crimes. The compressed time period of Shabbat followed immediately by the day of mourning makes it difficult to process or respond. But Isaiah doesn’t just leave us with blood on our hands; he suggests a way forward:

Learn to do good.
Devote yourselves to justice;
Aid the wronged.
Uphold the rights of the orphan;
Defend the cause of the widow.

Isaiah 1:17 (see “Isaiah page one” handout, also below)

We can read this message as a simple “do better.” And, of course, that is what we are being told to do. But we must also heed that first commandment: Learn.

For nearly 3000 years, Isaiah has railing at us that we have blood on our hands. And for just as long, the prophet has been telling us that the first step — before trying to undertake the work of justice, provide aid, uphold anyone’s rights, or defend the most vulnerable — is to learn.

We can inform ourselves about the problems and issues. We can listen to the voices of those most affected by crimes in which we have participated, however inadvertently. We can get to know what solutions others are already working to implement. We can learn more about Jewish history, practice, and philosophy to shore up our ability to respond Jewishly — and/or steep ourselves in other traditions that inspire us.

For nearly 3000 years, Jewish tradition has been calling us to do better by learning better.


TRANSLITERATION NOTE: The Hebrew word ” איכה ” is pretty commonly transliterated “eicha” (and this blog often used that spelling in the past); eikha is used here, though, in an effort to make clear the distinction between the chet of “[חזון] chazon” and the khaf of “eikha.”


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PDF Handouts

Handout for Hill Havurah, six-page-PDF includes both “Eicha and Chazon” (5 pages) and “Isaiah page one” (1 page) in one document. Also below: separate pieces.

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Eicha and Chazon (five-page-PDF, originally prepared for Temple Micah in 2019 and re-shared with Hill Havurah and Tzedek Chicago in 2022) —

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Isaiah page one — (one-page-PDF) three translations for Isa 1:15-18 and some definitions.

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Singing and Praying about Enemies

“Ooh sha sha, we’ve got to live together,” voices used to tell me, from under my pillow at night. “What the world needs now is love … love between my brothers and my sisters …everybody get together, smile on your brother.” They promised “change is gonna come” and an “answer blowin’ in the wind,” later asking: “What’s going on? …. War, what is it good for? (Good God, y’all) … Why can’t we be friends?”

Daily messages from my transistor and from people around me were very far removed from the language of “enemies” and “wicked” in the Book of Psalms.

I did not grow up among Bible readers or folks who relied on psalms for comfort or instruction. As I became a Bible reader and a Psalms reciter as an adult, I’ve struggled to reconcile all those years of “love everybody right now!” with some of the darker images in sacred text and prayer.

Once, a long while back, R’ Joel Alter launched a Jewish Study Center class I attended by saying that some people find it unhelpful to focus on enemies but that, for the purposes of that class (on the Book of Deuteronomy), we would not debate the topic: “Don’t tell me we don’t have enemies.” I don’t think I’d said anything myself about my problems with the concept of enemies in sacred text, but Joel’s comment definitely spoke right to me, and started to shift my perspective.

Nevertheless, I remain anxious about psalms that say things like, “a host encamps against me” (Ps. 27:4) or “let God’s enemies be scattered” (Ps. 68:2) or that speak of “the wicked,” rather than wickedness. (Beruria, who taught her husband, Rabbi Meir, to pray for an end to “sins” rather than “sinners,” is my hero!) After all: Who gets to declare someone wicked or enemy of God?

I do love some psalms and find them deeply moving. I enjoy studying psalms. I joyfully, or mournfully, as the occasion demands, add my voice when psalms are part of the liturgy. I recite psalms when someone is ill or in dire straits. Still, though, when the world around me seems especially threatening, I often prefer to lean on Bill Withers or let Sly and the Family Stone carry me away.

photo: Joe Haupt (image description, full credit below)

Recently, however, I’ve had my perspective shifted again by the psalm medleys of Adam Gottlieb and OneLove. In one recent example (“Duppy Medley, with Psalm 27, below), his translation and the musical context prepare me for lines like, “when armies come at me, my heart will hold.” I could try to explain why I think this works for me. Instead, I’ll just share the video and ask how this lands for you this Elul.

This link allows Spotify users to pre-save Psalm 1 Medley, which includes a fantastic minor key “Hammer Song.” No cost, just need a Spotify account.

Here is the Patreon page for Adam Gottlieb & OneLove. Becoming a patron gives access to the Psalm 1 Medley before the September 2 release date and lots of other content.


And, here, for some different forms of uplift:

Sly Stone’s “Everyday People,” brought to you by Turnaround Arts (school groups around the country);

Bill Withers offering his own “Lean on Me” with audience participation; and

Playing for Change’s Song Around the World version of “Lean on Me.”


NOTES

“Everyday People,” Sly and the Family Stone 1968. “What the World Needs Now is Love,” Jackie DeShannon 1965. “The Hammer Song,” Martha and the Vandellas 1963 (Seeger and Hayes, 1949). “Get Together,” Youngbloods 1968. “A Change is Gonna Come,” Sam Cooke 1964. “Blowin’ in the Wind,” Bob Dylan 1962. “What’s Going On,” Marvin Gaye 1970. “War,” Edwin Starr, 1970. “Why can’t we be friends,” War 1975.

Rabbi Joel Alter was then a relatively recent graduate of the Jewish Theological Seminary and a regular teacher for DC’s cross-community Jewish Study Center after his day job in formal Jewish education. He is now a congregational rabbi in Milwaukee. Tagging him here with thanks and greetings.

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There were once some highwaymen [or: hooligans] the neighbourhood of R. Meir who caused him a great deal of trouble. R. Meir accordingly prayed that they should die. His wife Beruria said to him: How do you make out [that such a prayer should be permitted]? Because it is written (Ps. 104:35): Let hatta’im cease? Is it written hot’im? It is written hatta’im! Further, look at the end of the verse: and let the wicked men be no more. Since the sins will cease, there will be no more wicked men! Rather pray for them that they should repent, and there will be no more wicked. He did pray for them, and they repented. — Soncino translation, Babylonian Berakhot 10a. For more on this story, see also this PDF from a psalms study class a few years back.


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Image description: plastic rectangular transistor radio from the 1950s. Single dial and volume control. Photo: Joe Haupt via Wikimedia. License Attribution-Share Alike Creative Commons 2.0. Official name: “Vintage General Electric 5-Transistor Radio, Model 677 (Red), GE’s First Commercially Produced Transistor Radio, Made in the USA, Circa 1955.”

Video description: Musicians performing live in a small, possibly home-based (decidedly not fancy) studio. Guitarist/vocalist on one side; drummer, guitarist, and additional percussionist on the other side.

Or Olam: the light ahead and within

Seeking pieces of liturgy and other resources for uplift, as we try to move from the depths of Av to the new year, I’ve found myself returning again and again to “Eternal Light” — based on a line from the high holiday prayers — as composed by Norma Brooks and recorded by “Psalm Full of Soul” with guest artists The Blind Boys of Alabama (recording below).

Or Olam — Eternal Light

“Infinite light is preserved in life’s treasure-house; ‘Lights from darkness’ said God — it was so.” — from the piyyut “Or Olam

“And the light of the moon shall become like the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall become sevenfold, like the light of the seven days, when the LORD binds up His people’s wounds and heals the injuries it has suffered.” — Isaiah 30:26

These lines, from an ancient liturgical poem by Yose ben Yose (4th-5th Centuries CE) are added to the Yotzeir Or blessing on the High Holy Days. They refer to a Talmudic legend (Chagigah 12a) that the brilliant primordial light of Creation, too powerful for mortal eyes, was hidden away by God, and is preserved for the righteous in the world-to-come.

— liturgical verse and commentary from Mishkan Hanefesh for Rosh Hashanah (CCAR, 2015)

Each of us is a repository of life. We are where life is stored, and this eternal light rests inside each of us, waiting for us to manifest it with our actions. When we act justly, we bring this light into the world, answering God’s dictum, “Lights from the darkness!” When we help another, we bring the “it was so” into the present, an ongoing creation of light in darkness (R David Kominsky, b. 1971)

— commentary from Mishkan Hanefesh continued

The song, “Eternal Light,” is based on “Or Olam” and its commentary, as well as on Gen 1:3-5 and Isaiah 30:36 and 45:7. The same line appears in Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur liturgies (see p.178 in Mishkan Hanefesh for Yom Kippur, e.g.) Video here, with lyrics, is shared with kind permission of Norma Brooks, composer. Full credits below.

For more musical inspiration, including some pieces for the high holidays, check out Norma Brooks’ earlier album, Bountiful Light, created with the help of musicians and choir members from DC and beyond.

Image description: Video is basically one static pair of images overlaid throughout with the song lyrics. Image 1 is a photo of the eight performers at recording session: Blind Boys of Alabama with “Psalm Full of Soul,” that is, Vanessa R. Williams, Vince Evans, and Norma Brooks. Image 2 is the album cover showing Psalm Full of Soul logo and a picture of Vanessa, Vince, an Norma laughing together. Static text: “Psalm Full of Soul ‘Eternal Light.’ Composer: Norma Brooks. Vocal Soloist: Vanessa R. Williams. Featuring guest artists The Blind Boys of Alabama.” On top of the static graphic, lyrics appear in a text box as song progresses. (Lyrics can also be found below.)


“Eternal Light” lyrics (Norma Brooks)

Eternal, eternal light
Source of life, source of life
Light of creation, God’s living treasure
O holy light, God’s holy light

Light from darkness
Light from darkness
God spoke, and it was so
Light from darkness
Light from darkness
Creator of heaven and earth

Eternal, eternal light
Source of life, source of life
Light of creation, God’s living treasure
O holy light, O holy light

O holy light, eternal light
O holy light, eternal light

When the light of the moon
Shall be as the light of the sun
And the light of the sun
Shall be sevenfold
As the light of the seven days,
Seven days of the week
Oh, in the future
There will be a more perfect light
The light resides
Within Each one of us,
Just waiting for us
Just waiting for us
To act justly, to act with purity,
Clarity and joy

The ongoing creation
Of light from darkness
O holy light, O holy light
Eternal light, O holy light

Eternal, eternal light
Source of life, source of life
Light of creation, God’s living treasure
O holy light, God’s holy light

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Credits for “Eternal Light”
Guest Artists: The Blind Boys of Alabama (Jimmy Carter, Ben Moore, Joey Williams, Paul Beasley)
Vocal Soloist: Vanessa R. Williams
Keyboards: Vince Evans
Guitar: Alvin White
Bass: Bryan Fox
Drums: J.C. Jefferson
Choir: Rhonda Burnett Chapman, Byron Nichols, Michael White, Vanessa R. Williams
“Psalm Full of Soul” (c) 2008

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