Oasis Songs: Musings from Rav D
Friday, December 20, 2024 / 19 Kislev 5785
Summary: Recently, we have witnessed a former president who seems above the law, a sitting president who abused his political power by pardoning his son, and health insurance executives who can make decisions that result in the death of, or serious harm to, countless people while remaining exempt from legal repercussions for their acts of structural immorality. These incidents define our epoch, in which many have lost hope in the American dream. The soul of our nation has been shaken.
In this Oasis Songs column, I first want to analyze how America’s belief in hope is tethered to the notion of progress, which means that when we don’t seem to be experiencing progress, we are prone to despair. Second, I argue that Judaism’s notion of hope, which isn’t dependent on short-term progress, is particularly helpful during this period.
Reading Time: Five minutes
Does hope depend on progress? If it does, we are likely to experience despair whenever things move backward. Hope is not only possible but especially necessary when a society seems to regress. This week’s Torah portion, Vayeshev, offers an opportunity to examine this concept in light of disturbing contemporary issues.
American Hope and the Myth of Progress
Why does maintaining hope without signs of progress seem so difficult? One reason lies in America’s cultural fixation on progress. This idea is deeply rooted in the collective psyche, shaping the narratives of our nation. By understanding this cultural complex, we can begin to explore a more resilient form of hope.
Jungian analysts like Thomas Singer and Samuel Kimbles describe a cultural complex as a shared psychological pattern within a society. These complexes operate unconsciously, shaping beliefs, values, and behaviors. America’s cultural complex of progress is powerful: it energizes innovation, perseverance, and purpose. But it also fosters disillusionment when progress falters.
This myth began with frontier expansion and Manifest Destiny, evolving into Horatio Alger’s tales of rags-to-riches success. Alger’s stories encouraged hard work and moral integrity as pathways to upward mobility, reinforcing the belief that individual effort alone can overcome systemic obstacles. Yet these stories obscure deeper truths about inequality. The upward path they glorify has often been closed to marginalized groups due to structural barriers.
In recent decades, the myth of progress has found fertile ground in Silicon Valley’s promises of a technological utopia. Innovations are framed as inherently beneficial and inevitable, fostering optimism about an ever-better future. However, as thinkers like Sherry Turkle have pointed out, technology often amplifies disconnection and inequality, fracturing the social fabric it promises to improve.
This narrative of progress aligns neatly with the archetype of the hero’s journey. Popularized in contemporary storytelling, this model assures us that perseverance leads to triumph. While inspiring, this framework can also lead to deep disappointment when progress is stalled or reversed. It assumes linear advancement in a world that is anything but linear.
The Torah’s Vision of Hope
The Torah offers an alternative vision of hope, one that does not rely on progress as its foundation. Parashat Vayeishev presents two narratives that explore inequality and moral failure: Joseph’s imprisonment after false accusations by Potiphar’s wife, and Tamar’s struggle for justice after Yehudah refuses to fulfill his levirate obligations to protect his daughter-in-law’s well-being. These stories highlight how those without power—servants and women—were denied justice in the ancient world.
Yet these narratives also suggest a higher vision of hope. The Torah acknowledges societal flaws while planting seeds for a just system. Joseph’s and Tamar’s perseverance amidst injustice embody a hope that transcends immediate outcomes. They remind us that hope is not about seeing progress but about believing in the possibility of eventual justice.
Consider Joseph’s story. Imprisoned without due process, he could have succumbed to despair. Instead, he remained steadfast, interpreting dreams and holding onto his integrity. Tamar, too, faced an unjust system. Disguising herself as a prostitute to demand the justice denied her, she exposed Yehudah’s hypocrisy and secured her rightful place in the lineage of Israel. These stories acknowledge that hope often requires resilience in the face of deeply flawed systems.
Jewish Hope Beyond Progress
Judaism’s concept of hope is not tethered to visible progress but rooted in enduring values. This resilience has sustained the Jewish people through millennia of exile and oppression. Three pillars support this hope:
1. Faith in the Divine Plan:
Jewish hope rests on emunah (faith). When God promises Abraham descendants as numerous as the stars, Abraham and Sarah remain hopeful despite their childlessness. Faith sustains hope even when evidence suggests otherwise.
In Psalm 27, we are encouraged to “Hope in the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage, and hope in the Lord.” This kind of hope is not contingent on circumstances but on trust in a divine plan that unfolds beyond human comprehension.
2. Collective Memory and Covenant:
The Exodus narrative reinforces hope by recalling past redemptions. Pesach’s annual retelling reminds Jews to see themselves as if they personally left Egypt. This memory creates resilience, grounding hope in the collective experience of survival.
The concept of covenant amplifies this hope. It affirms that God’s promises endure even in the darkest times, offering a framework for enduring faith and action.
3. Human Responsibility:
Jewish hope also emphasizes action. As Pirkei Avot teaches, “It is not your responsibility to finish the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” This principle allows for hope even when progress seems distant, by focusing on the value of effort itself.
Integrating the Shadow Side of Progress
America’s cultural complex of progress is not inherently flawed but requires integration of its shadow side. A more mature understanding acknowledges that progress is non-linear and interwoven with setbacks. By accepting this, we can navigate periods of stagnation or regression without succumbing to despair.
Conclusion: Hope Without Progress
We don’t choose the times we are born into, but we do choose how to respond. During challenging periods, Judaism reminds us that hope does not depend on immediate progress. It calls us to trust in a vision greater than ourselves, grounded in faith, memory, and action. As Rabbi Nachman of Breslov said, “It is forbidden to despair.”
When the going gets tough, the tough keep hoping.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rav D
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