sholem aleichem,

I wanted to share a short excerpt of something I’m working on, since this piece is relevant to Bereishis. That said, I want to say a couple things up front:

First, this is a draft!

Second, I’m interested in any feedback! Is it too chutzpedik of me to write in this style? Do you have responses to the piece itself? What do you think of the essential metaphor? Do you know of places in Torah literature where these ideas are referenced, that I should study as I continue working on it?

To Kayin and to his offering [Hashem] did not offer respect, and Kayin became very incensed, and his face fell. And Hashem said to Kayin: “Why are you incensed? Why has your face fallen?” This is astonishing! For can it be said that Hashem, the Knower of Secrets, lacks knowledge? Rather, this can be compared to the manner of great teachers, who are accustomed to asking questions, not to acquire chiddushim for themselves, but in order to draw out and reveal an understanding that is already present, though hidden, in their students’ hearts.

And it is necessary to explain Hashem’s question clearly, and what we are meant to learn from it today, lest the Torah become (gd forbid) merely a collection of stories about a time long past.

It seems to me that the explanation is so:

“Why are you incensed” is a language of kindling fire. It is as if Hashem asked Kayin “why are you lit on fire.”

And this is like the story of a certain teacher, who was traveling a long distance with her students. Each night, they would stop to rest in a field, where the students would gather wood and light a fire to cook dinner. And before they would eat each night, the teacher was accustomed to teaching a Torah lesson.

One night, when the time came for the Torah lesson, the teacher asked the students only “why is this wood on fire?” One student answered, “we lit it to cook our dinner.” And the teacher repeated and asked again, “why is this wood on fire?” Another student answered, “because we were hungry.” And the teacher repeated and asked again, “why is this wood on fire?”. A third student answered, “because I struck flint against stone over the wood”. And the teacher repeated and asked again, “why is this wood on fire?” Until the last student responded, “because it is possible to light wood on fire.”

And this was the teacher’s lesson: every fire has two causes. The first, root, and most essential cause is the potential for fire that was already hidden within the wood itself. The second and external cause is the collection of circumstances that revealed the hidden fire, and drew it out into actuality.

So it is with a human being who has been lit on fire with burning anger. Certainly, there were circumstances that drew out and revealed that anger in actuality. But no circumstance was the essential, root cause of the revealed anger. The essential and root cause of the revealed anger was nothing other than the potential for anger that was already hidden within the human heart.

And it is necessary to understand that the potential for fire within wood is nullified primarily through water. And water is an aspect of Torah, as our teachers of blessed memory taught: “there is no water except Torah” (Bava Kamma 82a). And Torah is an aspect of compassion, as the Rambam taught that “the laws of Torah … are compassion, loving-kindess, and peace in the world” (Mishneh Torah Shabbos 2:3).

And so we find that the potential for anger within a human is nullified primarily through compassion. That is, a human who is soaked in compassion will be slow to anger, no matter the circumstances in which she is found. And when anger is truly required of her, it will be, b’ezras hashem, an anger of heaven, which is שמים, which is איש ומים (Rashi on Bereishis 1:8): fire and water mixed together, that is, anger thoroughly soaked in compassion.

Good shabbos,

ada

p.s. thanks to Rabbi Jhos Singer on the new hit podcast Left at Sinai for reminding me of the Rashi on heaven being fire and water!

p.p.s. My thinking on this has been strongly influenced by the idea in nonviolent communication of separating “stimulus” from “cause”. The idea of compassion as the opposite of anger is something I’ve learned from Thich Nhat Hanh. There’s also a fascinating teaching from the Baal Shem Tov that I hope to bring next week, myirtz hashem, where it is davka Avraham, who is loving-kindness, who in some sense ends God’s own burning anger…stay tuned gd willing.