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Harold S. KushnerA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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In the Bible, God creates the heavens and Earth, and then He creates the creatures of Earth. He says, “Let us make Man in our image” (81). Kushner believes God is speaking to the animals, telling them that humans will be both animal-like and god-like, an in-between creation.
In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve disobey God and eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. God banishes them from Eden, and they must henceforth struggle for their food, in anguish give birth to new humans, and grow old and die.
Adam and Eve and their descendants see the world with a new perspective. Suddenly, sexual relations, so simple for animals, are imbued with moral complexity, yet also with the potential for love, tenderness, and commitment. Childbirth is more painful for humans than for other animals, but the real pain lies yet ahead, during the years of child rearing, when parents must juggle complex situations involving their young, sometimes with unhappy outcomes.
Outside Eden, people also must work to earn their food in a process much more complex and challenging than that faced by animals. Ethical dilemmas abound in the workplace, problems other creatures don’t face. Also, people know they will die, and this knowledge colors their decisions and inspires their actions in ways foreign to other creatures.
Thus, eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil imbues humans with the godlike trait of moral understanding and presents them with choices, both good and bad, that they must make of their own free will. Were God to stop us every time we made a bad choice, we wouldn’t be fully human nor truly in God’s image. Thus, God warns us of later consequences but otherwise stands aside as people make their own choices.
Kushner argues that Hitler’s wholesale slaughter of Jews and others is simply too gigantic an offense against simple decency to be attributable to God’s will. Instead, Kushner believes God must also be offended by this misuse of human freedom, “or how can I respect God as a source of moral guidance?” (92). People commit acts of goodness and evil both small and large. Hitler was able to be destructive on an international scale. Did he choose to do so freely, Kushner asks, or did his background and upbringing compel him to behave that way? To argue that he was compelled “is to make all morality, all discussion of right and wrong, impossible” (93), and humans become no more responsible for their actions than animals.
Hitler’s Holocaust, then, was a moral failure of enormous dimensions that involved the acquiescence of millions of Germans and the inaction of millions of outsiders who simply stood by and watched. Why didn’t God intervene? He gave humans free will and therefore cannot undo their acts.
When bad things happen, people often blame themselves and refuse help from others. Their doing so makes the bad thing doubly destructive. Even worse, many people believe the unfortunate deserve their troubles or God wouldn’t have permitted them to suffer.
Job’s friends, hearing him wail, “Why is God doing this to me?” (98), mistook his cry of misery as a request for an explanation. Their attempt to instruct him in God’s ways, including their conclusion that Job must have done something heinous, was unhelpful. Job needed to hear sympathy, not a lecture; the friends’ efforts amounted to “rubbing salt into an open wound” (99). To their credit, Job’s friends did show up; otherwise, he would have felt even more isolated. They also listened quietly to his sorrows.
When someone dies, surviving family members may wrestle with guilt. Kushner visits, on the same day, families of two recently deceased elderly women. At one home, the son regrets not sending his mother from their cold and snowy region to the warmth of Florida; at the other home, the son regrets sending his mother to Florida, lamenting the stress of the move on her weakened constitution. This kind of guilt about decisions made, or things unsaid, or caring actions not taken, “seems to be universal” (102).
People need to make sense of the world, and sometimes they believe their actions cause things to happen when in fact those things are unrelated. It’s unlikely, for example, that a sports fan’s favorite team wins simply because the fan wears a “lucky sweater.” This way of thinking can lead to people blaming themselves unfairly: “It seems to be a short step from believing that every event has a cause to believing that every disaster is our fault” (103). As infants, we cry and someone fulfills our needs; a remnant of this attitude affects our beliefs during adulthood, so that we might decide that someone became ill merely because we despised them. Also, when a parent in a bad mood scolds a child, the child may conclude the bad mood is her fault, and this type of guilt can distort the child’s sense of self.
Kushner relates the story of Bob, whose family becomes increasingly burdened with the care of Bob’s aging mother. At last they decide to place her in a nursing home. Attending a religious service shortly thereafter, Bob hears a sermon that condemns the young for not caring for their parents; Bob, feeling anger and guilt, has a disastrous visit with his mother at the nursing home. Kushner believes religion should teach responsibility to one’s family members but not manipulate people with guilt, especially about difficult decisions made in good conscience. Children, and sometimes adults, who lose a parent to illness or accident may believe that their parent left them deliberately. It’s appropriate to remind them that the parent wanted to come back, and that their death isn’t the fault of the survivor.
Children can become upset or fearful when another child dies. Grownups can explain to them that such things are rare and aren’t punishments. Also, people who are handicapped or crippled aren’t being punished but have suffered an unfortunate turn of events. Sometimes it’s appropriate to invite a child to chat with a person who is, for example, blind or missing a limb, as this “can ease the barrier of strangeness and dispel the fear the child feels” (111).
Adults also struggle with sudden misfortune. Kushner describes Beverly, whose husband leaves her abruptly, telling her he’s bored of her. Beverly visits her parents, who comfort her, but her mother asks questions about the relationship, searching for some mistake Beverly might have made. Beverly becomes angry and insists that, despite her imperfections, she didn’t deserve what her husband had done.
Fifteen-year-old Barry loses his mother to leukemia. His aunt tells him not to feel sad and says that God took her from him because He needs her more than Barry did. Kushner spends hours counseling Barry, who feels wrong about being sad, angry at God, and guilty about not appreciating his mother enough. Kushner tells Barry that his mother died of leukemia and not from some fault in Barry, and that God didn’t take her for His own purposes or as a punishment.
When we suffer big losses, we can become angry but not know whom to blame, and this anger splashes across many people, including ourselves. One way to resolve this situation is to accept the anger and aim it at the situation rather than at ourselves, other people, or God.
Jealousy, which begins in childhood as siblings vie for their parents’ attention, thrives in adults who resent those who have better luck or fewer problems. Such envy alienates the unlucky from the more fortunate who could help them. Bad things strike everyone, and those who appear unscathed usually have their own losses and jealousies. As a young rabbi, Kushner would visit the bereaved to offer comfort, but they often rejected his attempts because he seemed so fortunate. When they learned about his terminally ill son, their hearts softened to him: “I was their brother in suffering, and they were able to let me help them” (123-24).
Humans are endowed with a moral sense, and sometimes it causes them to suffer. Kushner explores this idea in Chapters 5 and 6. He declares that God spoke to his animal creations when He said, “Let us make Man in our image” (81). It’s also possible that God addressed the Heavenly Host—angels, mostly—when assigning qualities to people. Either way, humans were endowed with qualities of spirit beyond those of other creatures, qualities that enable them to wonder about the universe and their place in it, dream of a better life, and even question God’s decisions. When Adam and Eve eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they separate from the other animals because of their newfound understanding and are now capable of striving in the wilderness and taming it for humanity. Their punishment seems equally a rite of passage.
John Steinbeck related that, when he was a child, his parents would lock up their books in a cabinet. Curious and mischievous, Steinbeck found a way to break into the cabinet, and soon he had read all the books inside. It was a neat trick his parent played on him, to forbid what they wanted him to do. In the same way, God marked as off-limits the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, which had the effect of luring Adam and Eve to it. Perhaps God wanted them to eat from it and thus obtain the moral knowledge they would need to survive as they populated the wilderness of Earth. Maybe God simply tricked Adam and Eve into growing up. Technically, the reason human childbirth is so painful is because the infant’s head is too large for easy passage through the birth canal. The very size of that head bespeaks the advanced consciousness, and resulting moral dilemmas, within it.
God doesn’t step in to prevent human cruelty because He has granted people free will and therefore cannot intervene. This doesn’t mean, however, that there are no consequences for those who commit heinous crimes: God has an entire afterlife in which to deal with people who have been malicious toward others.
In Chapter 6, Kushner argues that humans have many painful emotions when they suffer big losses and that it’s pointless to try to talk them out of those feelings. Kushner’s theories have a Freudian ring to them, in the sense that many human feelings and decisions bubble up from the unconscious, often out of control, and that allowing people to experience, for example, their anger, grief, and resentment can help them to process and transcend these feelings.
There is a tradition in Judaism that, when visiting someone in the hospital, it’s considered best simply to sit silently with them without offering any suggestions, words of hope, or advice. Asking, “How are you feeling?” is, in this view, one of the worst things, even if well intentioned, that a visitor can do. Just being with the patient is a form of acceptance and love; this presence alone can help the afflicted deal with their pain and anguish.
Reading between the lines, it’s possible to guess that Kushner’s own grief over the suffering and death of his son put him in mind of Job, and that many well-meaning people behaved toward him and his son as “Job’s comforters” who tried and failed to help him with admonitions and lectures that merely hurt his family further.
Kushner suggests that people sometimes visit the bereaved and merely talk about the weather or the stock market, avoiding the most important issue: the pain of the sufferer. This isn’t to say that normal, everyday conversation is forbidden in those situations. If, after sitting with someone who’s suffering from a loss and sympathizing with their grief, the visitor finds that the bereaved wants to talk about, for example, mutual friends or the news, at that point a relaxed conversation on such topics may give the sufferer a few moments of normalcy and a sense that there’s hope for the future. This observation requires good judgment; in any case, less talk and more quiet sympathy are the order of the day.
Today we do everything in our power to save our elderly from death, but in the past, this wasn’t always so. In some non-literate nomadic groups, it was a tradition that, when a member of the group became too old to manage a critical river crossing unaided, that person was left behind. This often amounted to a death sentence, but the group’s resources would otherwise be taxed to the detriment of everyone. In other ancient traditions, elderly village members might remove themselves as burdens simply by walking off into the forest to die.
Moral decisions, then, must vary depending on context. It’s easy to condemn people who don’t behave in ways we prefer, but those people may have very good reasons for their decisions. If we can come to understand their sincerely held differences from us, we may accept more readily the mystery of God’s frequent absence from our struggles. Perhaps He, too, has his reasons, and they’re not cruel or thoughtless ones.