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.