Reward and Punishment
This week’s Torah portion, Bechukotai, opens with one of the most persistent but challenging ideas in the Torah: the idea that God rewards the faithful and punishes those who transgress.
If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments, I will grant your rains in their season, so that the earth shall yield its produce and the trees of the field their fruit. Your threshing shall overtake the vintage, and your vintage shall overtake the sowing; you shall eat your fill of bread and dwell securely in your land. I will grant peace in the land, and you shall lie down untroubled by anyone; I will give the land respite from vicious beasts, and no sword shall cross your land…But if you do not obey Me and do not observe all these commandments, if you reject My laws and spurn My rules, so that you do not observe all My commandments and you break My covenant, I in turn will do this to you: I will wreak misery upon you—consumption and fever, which cause the eyes to pine and the body to languish; you shall sow your seed to no purpose, for your enemies shall eat it. I will set My face against you: you shall be routed by your enemies, and your foes shall dominate you. You shall flee though none pursues. (Lev. 26:3-6, 14-17)
This idea is, in many ways, the bedrock of covenantal theology. And yet, while not problematic in and of itself, this conception of reward and punishment easily slides towards another, more difficult theological conclusion: those who suffer must have done something to deserve it, while those who flourish must be good people.
We know that this is not the case. In fact, Job - who most famously gives voice to the central problem of theodicy, or divine justice, within the biblical canon - explicitly cries out against this conclusion and the injustice implied by it.
Why do the wicked live on,
reach old age, and grow mighty in power?
Their children are established in their presence,
and their offspring before their eyes.
Their houses are safe from fear,
and no rod of God is upon them.
Their bull breeds without fail;
their cow calves and never miscarries.
They send out their little ones like a flock,
and their children dance around.
They sing to the tambourine and the lyre,
and rejoice to the sound of the pipe. (Job 21:7-12)
I have been fascinated and troubled by the problem of divine justice for decades, and it is certainly not a problem I expect to be able to solve in this post (or ever). But as I was reading the parasha this week, I was struck by how closely the biblical idea of reward and punishment is linked to food. At its core, the good life is envisioned as one of bounty: where both crops and children are plentiful, and “you eat your fill of bread.” Punishment is envisioned as the opposite: physical affliction and a land that yields no food or where the crops are ravaged by enemies. So many of the things we value and enjoy about our lives are meaningless without the basic security of shelter, food, and water. And yet, it is these very blessings which we often ignore, distracted by other pursuits and concerns that seem more pressing because we take things like our health, our homes, and the food on our tables for granted.
And, whatever our character - our strengths and our failings - we do not always benefit from these blessings. Illness, poverty, war, tragedy: these things come to so many of us, regardless of our merits. We suffer, while others seem to dance through life. Having just recovered from a mild illness, I was struck (as I always am) by how much more difficult it is to appreciate life when I feel unwell, and how much more wonderful and expansive the world seems as soon as I am recovered. If I feel that way after a cold, what must it feel like to have a chronic illness?
While I may never be able to explain why bad things happen to good people, or why some people seem to suffer more than others, I take this parasha as an invitation to try to appreciate the gifts I have, deserving or not. This Shabbat, I invite you to take a moment to notice the bounty that lies hidden in the daily, routine aspects of your life. Perhaps this means taking some time to clean up the living room with your family before Shabbat begins, so you can relax and enjoy the beauty of the home and space you share, however big or small that space might be. Perhaps this looks like going to the grocery store with your children and letting them select a few of their favorite fruits to put in a basket on the table, to celebrate the bountiful arrival of spring. Or perhaps that is baking a very simple brown bread together, the most basic of foods from the most basic of recipes, so that you can experience the satisfaction that is eating your fill of a simply, hearty bread over dinner together.
Brown Bread
From The New York Times, yields 1 loaf
This simple brown bread is easy to put together - no kneading required - but it is the perfect way to highlight the simple pleasures of life. I so rarely bake bread from scratch, but there is also nothing that makes a home feel quite as cozy as a freshly baked homemade loaf. You don’t need any fancy equipment or skills for this one, and since this it only involves very basic mixing, little hands can easily help.
This is a lovely loaf to serve alongside a big salad or some roasted fish for dinner, or consider slathering it with butter and jam for a special Shabbat morning breakfast. I’ll be serving mine with this curried chickpea salad for an easy, flavorful lunch.
Ingredients
4 cups (450 grams) whole-wheat flour, preferably stone-ground
½ teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1 tablespoon molasses
2½ teaspoons active dry yeast
1 teaspoon canola oil, for greasing
1 tablespoon sesame or poppy seeds or a combination (optional)
Instructions
In a large bowl, mix the flour with the salt.
In a liquid measuring jug or small bowl, mix the molasses with 5 oz (150 ml) of lukewarm water. Stir in the yeast and leave the jug somewhere warm for 5 minutes, or until the liquid foams. (This is calling “proving” and it is how you ensure that your yeast is active; if it doesn’t foam up, the yeast may be dead. Start over with fresh yeast.)
Grease a 5- by 8-inch loaf pan with the oil, and line the bottom and long sides with parchment paper to create a sling for the dough (you’ll use this in step 9).
Pour the activated yeast mixture into the flour. Measure 10 oz (275 ml) of lukewarm water into the jug you proved the yeast in, scraping and stirring any residual yeast into the water. Pour this into the flour.
Using your hand or a spoon, mix the flour and the liquid together to make a dough. It will be too wet to knead. Scrape the dough into the prepared loaf pan. If you’d like, sprinkle the top with sesame or poppy seeds or both.
Place the pan in a warm place (close to the stove is ideal). Pull a dish cloth tight over the top of the pan without letting it touch the dough, and leave the dough to rise until it reaches the top of the pan, 15 to 25 minutes. While the dough rises, heat the oven with a rack in the center to 450 degrees.
When the dough has nearly reached the top of the pan, remove the dish cloth and put the loaf on the center rack in the oven.
Bake for 20 minutes, then reduce the oven temperature to 400 degrees. Continue to bake for another 30 minutes or until the top looks nicely browned.
Remove the pan from the oven, then tip the loaf out of the pan, running a knife around the outside of the bread to release it if needed and holding the hot loaf with oven mitts or a clean dish towel. Discard the parchment paper, shake off loose seeds, and return the loaf — upside down — to the oven, setting it directly on the center rack. Bake for another 10 minutes, or until the loaf sounds hollow when you tap its bottom. (Note: I skipped this step. My bread was fully baked after 50 minutes. To be extra sure, I used a quick read thermometer to test that it was at least 200 degrees before taking it out of the oven.)
Cool the loaf on a rack for 10 minutes before slicing to enjoy. The loaf will keep well-wrapped at room temperature for up to 3 days.