Meryl spoke to the etymology of the Hebrew word for crisis, mashber. The root is shevar which means broken, but there is another meaning for mashber, a birthing chair. Crisis is an opportunity for a new birth.
Our topic today presented a metaphor from the mystics, first presented by Kabbalist, Rabbi Isaac Luria in 1570 and summarized quite clearly by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks in our handout (see handout May Source Sheet ).
It begins in a bit of a logic problem. If God exists and is infinite, how is there room for anything else? And he’s not talking about something smaller than a bread box, but rather a universe. This assumes a fundamental concept, two things cannot coexist at a single time in a single space so infinity crowds out everything else.
Luria answered this question with the concept of tzimtzum which means contraction, withdrawal, concealment. Under this theory, before the creation of the universe, God had to first withdraw to create space for the universe. Interestingly the Hebrew word for universe,
olam, comes from a root that means hiding or concealment.
Lurie then introduced a second idea called shevirat ha-kelim that means “breaking of the vessels”, a catastrophe theory of creation. In order to preserve some of his presence in the universe, God sent forth rays of light that were too powerful to contain and they broke the containers that were to hold them. Apparently he wasn’t all-knowing under this theory, but still experimenting a bit himself never having done this before. As a result, fragments of light were strewn across the world. Our task is to gather these fragments to reassemble them, to set the world right. Each act we take to set the world right affects the “ecology of creation.”
So yes, for fact-based people this sounds, dare I say mystical. Think of it as metaphor or midrash. Luria was trying to explain the empty spaces, to make sense of the unknowable. And it's a metaphor that actually works.
What do we take from this on a metaphoric level? It’s all about process and it is never done. We can never bring the world back to a state of wholeness, but shard by shard we can make it better. We are in process as is the world. It made me think of the quote from Martin Luther King Jr–– The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. We aspire to justice, bending the arc ever so slightly. The death of George Floyd was a crisis, but also a wakeup call that may result in a rebirth. We are each called to gather the shards to set it right.
This story has been reflected in artwork and architecture such as the Shard in London and the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin. Each incorporates discrete elements that may form a larger whole, but are unique in their individuality. Bonnie spoke of the downstairs level beneath the memorial that houses the flickers of light from home movies of those who perished. She also spoke of the Monument to the Burning of the Books which has glass inserts in the plaza that look down on empty bookcases, highlighting what is not there. Also in this conversation we discussed the film Stumbling Stones which is about the largest decentralized memorial in the world, commemorating those who died in the Holocaust at the homes they once lived in. An important part of gathering shards is about remembering.
A question was posed. How do we see our work as collecting shards of light? Some use their artwork to shine a light on what is hidden, others on beauty. My work focuses on story that connects people to shared experiences, speaking to the humanity that we share. Metaphors drawn from nature connect to the human experience, reminding us of our connection to nature, something for which indigenous people hold a much greater awareness than the human-centered perspective that has come to dominate. We are each shards of light and when we connect to shared experience we reassemble those shards.
Our discussion introduced a number of additional sources and sites that people had found meaningful in this quest or that spoke to the concept of shards. These included:
A Whisper Across Time - Olga Campbell
To Heal a Fractured World - Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
Braiding Sweetgrass - Robin Wall Kimmerer
God Was Not in the Fire – Daniel Gordes