Rabbi Deborah J. Brin
Albuquerque, New Mexico • Pastoral Counseling & Spiritual Coaching
Rabbi Deborah J. Brin • Pastoral Counseling & Spiritual Coaching
©2024 Rabbi Deborah J. Brin — Mishkan of the Heart
Rabbi’s Reflections
Angels/Malachim — Yom Kippur Morning, 2015/5776
Monday, 16 November 2015
Rabbi Deborah J. Brin
I grew up in a Conservative synagogue in Minneapolis. I learned to
recite the Hebrew prayers without much knowledge about them.
Post-WWII was an era when the Jewish world was pushing away as
fast as it could from everything that reminded us of the ‘old world’
Jew and embraced everything that had to do with the ‘new Jew’.
Yiddish and Ladino, the spoken languages of those murdered by
Hitler, gave way to Hebrew – with a Sephardic, not Ashkenazic
pronunciation because that sounded too much like Yiddish. Folk tales
and folk wisdom gave way to rationalism; faith and belief in God and
all things unseen gave way to what could be proven by science.
Looking back at the Judaism of my childhood it seems that the
driving force for the Hebrew schools and Sunday schools of that era
was: “don’t give Hitler a posthumous victory”. I have compassion on
the generation of my parents, the “greatest generation” who at the
same time that they were starting families of their own, they were
struggling to comprehend the incomprehensible, and deal with the
shock, horror, trauma and denial of the far-reaching impact of the
genocidal mania of the fascists.
Motivated by fear and trauma, anxious that horrible things could still
be just around the corner, our elders failed to teach us some of the
juiciest parts of our traditions and cultures. Our mystical traditions
are many and varied, and our written record of them began with the
Prophets Ezekiel, Zachariah & Isaiah and those mystical traditions,
thought, writings, meditation techniques and prayer practices,
permeate our history, through every time period from the Prophets
until now.
During the post-war years in Minnesota, there was a sharp divide
between the cocoon of the Jewish world and the ‘outside world’.
Distinctions were made about what was “Jewish” and what was
“Christian”. It was an either/or proposition, and in the world of my
childhood, anything that wasn’t Jewish was Christian, or to use the
pejorative term that I was raised with, ‘goyish’.
Somehow, despite all of the evidence to the contrary, I thought that
angels belonged to the ‘outside’ world, to the Christians. In cartoons,
there were the two angels who would perch on the hero’s shoulders
and whisper in his ear — one angel had a halo and urged him to do
good things, and one angel looked like the devil and urged wicked
things. There was the cute little cherub, a rotund little boy with
wings, who shot arrows at people so that they would fall in love –
usually near Valentine’s Day.
Looking back on it, I am surprised perhaps even stunned by how
many references there are to angels in our Biblical literature and in
our prayer books. Let me remind you of some of the Biblical
examples. Angels came to Abraham and predicted the birth of Isaac.
An angel of God called out to Hagar after she was banished by
Abraham and Sarah – from the traditional reading for the first day of
Rosh HaShannah. An angel of God called out to Abraham to stop him
from sacrificing Isaac – the traditional Torah reading for the second
day of Rosh HaShannah. After Jacob ran away from home he had a
vision of angels going up and down a ladder. Jacob wrestles with an
angel and has his name changed to Israel. And one of my favorites,
the story of Balaam, his donkey and a menacing angel sent to kill
Balaam. Balaam could not see the angel standing in the path with a
drawn sword in his hand, but the donkey could. The donkey refused
to go forward into the reach of the menacing angel and his sword.
Balaam beats the donkey to no avail. Finally, the donkey is given the
gift of speech and an argument ensues between the two. Balaam’s
eyes are suddenly able to perceive the angel and he falls to the
ground in supplication. This is the Biblical prelude to the phrase, ‘mah
tovu ohalecha Ya’akov, mishkenotecha, Yisrael’; ‘how fair are your
tents O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel’.
Our prayer books are replete with references to angels. At Jewish
summer camp and hanging out at Hillel in college, I connected with
the energy of everybody being together, sharing food and stories,
and after dinner singing and pounding on the table during the Birkat
HaMazon, the blessing after the meal.
One of the songs that we sang with great vigor was Shalom Aleichem,
welcoming the angels to be with us on shabbat. We welcome the
Angels from the Most High, from the King of Kings; we ask that they
come in peace, bless us with peace, and then to leave in peace.
So who are what are angels in our tradition? As you can imagine, we
have many different ideas. One thing that is agreed upon is that they
are messengers from God. The Hebrew word for ‘angel’ is ‘malach’
and it means messenger. It is also related to the word for ‘work’ or
‘task’. That brings us to the second thing that is agreed upon about
angels, they usually have one task to do. For instance, the angel
named Rapahel, is a healer — his name combines one of the names of
God “EL”, with a word for healing – ‘rafa’. Some say that angels are
real — Adin Steinsaltz, the pre-eminent living scholar of the Talmud,
says that angels have real existence and are not abstractions. Others
say that angels are metaphors for forces within us: our feelings, our
thoughts, and our impulses.
Looking back on it,
I am surprised perhaps
even stunned by how
many references there are
to angels in our Biblical
literature and in our
prayer books.