"To be a teacher in the right sense is to be a learner.  I am not a teacher, only a fellow student."  (Soren Kierkegaard)

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A FEW PRE-SHABBAT WORDS FROM RABBI AARON 

Abraham’s Argument with God - What is it Really About?

The piece I’m privileged to share with you was written by a Japanese theologian named Kosuke Koyama, who was born in Tokyo in 1929, of Christian parents. He later moved to the U.S., where he completed his Bachelor of Divinity at Drew Theological Seminary and his PhD, at Princeton Theological Seminary.  Over the years Koyama assumed the leadership of several seminaries in Southeast Asia, and he served as a lecturer in schools of theology from New Zealand to New York. He authored several books on theology exploring God’s attributes, contributing to Buddhist-Christian dialogue, exploring the relationship between history and theology - to name just a few of his intellectual passions. Along with Kazoh Kitamori, he is considered one of the leading Japanese theologians of the last century. Koyama passed away in Springfield, Massachusetts, on March 25, 2009.

I have edited Koyama’s drash - a nip here, a tuck there. His spirituality - as we would expect - was Christian. I have archived Koyama’s sermon in unedited form. I’m happy to share it with anyone who is interested. The small section of text which references Christ’s salvation is quite stirring. But - in my view - it could distract the non-Christian reader from the beautiful spiritual heart of this gifted writing, which is something worth sharing with any spiritual seeker. My humble apologies to the author, for pulling the Christian teachings to the margins. May Kosuke Koyama’s teachings continue to bring the blessings born of empathy. 

Will You indeed destroy the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will You then destroy the place and not spare it for the fifty righteous who are in it? 

In 1567 the Jesuit Luis de Almeida began preaching in Nagasaki. On February 5, 1597, 26 Japanese Christians were martyred there. In 1859 an American Episcopal missionary, John Liggins, entered the city. In 1912, the year the Orthodox Bishop Nicolai died in Tokyo, there were 49 Japanese Orthodox Christians in Nagasaki. This city, which had, in the perspective of Japanese history, a long experience with Christianity, was annihilated by a nuclear bomb on August 9, 1945. Seventy-thousand were killed. There must have been many righteous people in the city. There must have been many righteous people in the cities of Coventry and Dresden, too, when these cities were destroyed. Were the sins of Nagasaki, Coventry and Dresden graver than those of Sodom, Gomorrah, London, New York or Chicago?

Abraham intercedes with God in the destiny of Sodom, whose "sin is very grave”. "Will You indeed destroy the righteous with the wicked? . . . Suppose ten are found there?" God said, "For the sake of ten I will not destroy it." Abraham held his peace. Sodom had a better chance than Nagasaki, Coventry and Dresden because it was God who expressed the intention of destroying Sodom: "Though He causes grief, He will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love" (Lamentations 3:32) In contrast, it was human beings who decided to destroy Nagasaki, Coventry and Dresden. This distinction is important because there is a difference between what we see and what God sees: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says the Lord" (Isaiah 55:8;and see I Samuel 16:7)

In 1945 Henry L. Stimson, secretary of war, recommended to President Truman the use of nuclear weapons against Japan to hasten the end of the war and save the Allied forces an estimated 1 million casualties in an assault upon mainland Japan. The bombs were dropped for political and military reasons. God decided to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah on moral grounds. But Abraham and Stimson spoke different languages. No one asked the theological question about the fate of Coventry, Dresden or Nagasaki: "Will you indeed destroy the righteous with the wicked?" Outright rejection of the truth about humanity contained in the theological question brought calamity to human history. Bombs rained from the bellies of the bombers.

Behind the biblical story is a strong sense of community. What is the saving effect of having righteous people in allegedly wicked cities? In the words of Abraham’s challenge,  we hear his social anthropology: "I am because we are, and since we are, therefore I am." The righteous and the wicked live intertwined in a community. Righteousness is not a private spiritual property. The good effect of the righteous, though they are a minority, must have healing power in the community where "I am because we are . . . ." When the righteous remain in a corrupt community they create the possibility of a new history*. 

In the ancient Chinese tradition we read of the "three moves of Mencius’s mother." Seeing Mencius’s poor moral and educational environment, his mother moved three times in order to find an ideal place for his education. Churches (and synagogues, for that matter) also move to a more congenial location when the local demography changes. Sometimes there is a profound religious necessity to escape from corrupt societies for one’s own salvation. Yet there is an even deeper sense of salvation when the righteous stay, trying to reform corrupt societies from inside. The Indian theologian Stanley Samartha imagines the thoughts of Lot’s wife: Why did I look back? Because my neighbors were out there. When, during the birth of my first child, I cried out in pain, the women were there. They held my hands, wiped my brow, gave me water to drink. And when the baby was born, they bathed it and put it to my breast**.

You cannot reform and renew a community unless you are identified with the destiny of the community. Lot’s wife had more ground to engage in moral discourse than her husband, who ran away to save his own life. The intriguing story of Abraham interceding for Sodom is not really about a numbers game but about the salvational significance of the righteous in a corrupt community. The story of Abraham’s intercession points to the central theme of biblical faith: God’s steadfast love  -- chesed  -- that refuses to be frustrated even in the context of a most immoral society.

In 1945 I stood in Tokyo, which was devastated by the U.S. ‘s incessant bombing. Were there not ten righteous in that city? Tokyo was completely destroyed. By God or by the Americans? By the Americans. Did the Americans execute the will of God? I have no answer to this, but I would be very disturbed if Americans were to make that claim. In the destruction of all cities, including Sodom and Gomorrah, I hear the passionate words of God’s chesed: "My people are bent on turning away from me; . . . How can I give you up, O Ephraim!" (Hosea 11:7-8)

a couple of notes                                                                                                                                                

*the rabbi’s, in Ethics of the Fathers, stress the importance of living in a place of Torah. Living away from Torah is spiritually akin to exile. Nonetheless, part of Abraham’s greatness is to be found in his rejection of righteous isolation.

**the emotionally resonant words of Stanley Samartha are cut from the same cloth as a poem called Lot’s Wife, written Marty Koplin, a friend from Macon, Georgia. You can find that poem amidst the parasha-related text and art on the Rabbi’s page within our shul’s website.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Aaron