Exodus & Eugenics: The Mad Scientist as the new Pharoah archetype

When reading over parsha Shemot (actually, only the second paragraph, Exodus 1:8 - 1:12), which is the beginning of the Exodus story, I couldn't help feeling that Doctor Sivana (of the old "Captain Marvel" comic book series) is the modern face of Pharoah.

In the 1940's, there was a comic book series called "SHAZAM! The Adventures of Captain Marvel", which featured Billy Batson, Captain Marvel, and his arch enemy, the evil Doctor Sivana. Doctor Savana was continually thinking up plots to take over the world, enslave mankind, and beat Captain Marvel.

How illuminating a costume change can be! Normally, when reading the story of Exodus, I picture Pharoah as an Ancient Egyptian in period clothes: the head dress, the chin beard, the throne...  Envisoning Pharoah in that type of get-up keeps our view of Pharoah in the past. But today, in this brilliant and ominous world of science and technology, Pharoah would look much different. Today's Pharoah would be a mad scientist. (Where's the Mad Scientist as a character in today's culture? He seems to be absent) Doctor Sivana, of SHAZAM! fame, fits the bill perfectly; he's concerned with eugenics and a genocidal plot. How thoroughly contemporary.

In this parsha, we see a reversal of fortune for the Jews (or the Israelites, who are the proto-Jews)  As it says in the parsha, “A new king arose over Egypt who does not know Joseph”.   Immediately I’m suspicious. How could the new king not know Joseph? How could the new king not know the second-in-command in all of Egypt? I’d assumed that at that level of leadership, all of the big players would know each other.  But not the new king. So where did he come from? Who was he? I think that there was possibly some sort of coup back then, or at least some bad office politics. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a new king arrives who doesn’t know Joseph? 

In the next line, we see that the new king is obsessed with the Jews fertility rate.  He doesn’t even regard them as citizens of Egypt. Just look at the language in this line: “And he said to his people, ‘look, the Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them so they may not increase”. “His people” doesn’t mean us. The king doensn’t even regard the Israelites as citizens of Egypt.

But what’s especially serious in that line I just quoted is that the king hatches a genocide plot to prevent the Israelites from creating successive generations.  Notice how the Pharoah says that he must deal shrewdly  with the Israelites, so that they may not increase. With the technology at Pharoah’s hands in those Ancient times, eugenics consisted of killing the Israelites male babies by drowning them as they were born, and throwing the fertile males into forced labor camps, inside of a “garrison city”, as it’s stated in this parsha. If Pharoah was alive today, imagine how much more shrewd he could be, with modern methods of making men sterile and women infertile at his disposable: radiation, chemicals, diseases, and other stresses.  Men and women who couldn’t conceive would never suspect that Pharoah had a hand in their biological misfortune.

I’m having a hard time getting past the first few lines of this parsha, because it seems impossible that a new king could arise in Egypt without having any knowledge of Joseph.  I’m also struggling with Pharoah’s fear of the Israelites. It seems to come from nowhere. Why’s he so afraid? 

I’m troubled by Pharoah’s ignorance of Joseph, and his paranoid campaign to wipe out the Israelites. Why's he so afraid of the Israelites? Where’s all of this paranoia coming from?  If you imagine Pharoah as Doctor Sivana, the answer becomes clear: Doctor Sivana's afraid that his evil plot will be uncovered!

Doctor Savana:  the new archetype for Pharoah??

The Technical Specs of Jacob's Ladder??

I've been thinking about Jacob's dream, where he sees a ladder rising up to Heaven, with angels ascending and descending it. It just struck me: why do angels need a ladder in the first place? Can't they fly?  Forgetting that question for a moment, lets consider the technical specifications of a ladder to Heaven.

First of all, without any clarification in the torah, artists are free to imagine what the ladder to Heaven might look like. Artist William Blake created a beautiful painting about Jacob's ladder, but where does it even imply that the ladder is a spiral staircase under a tent??  Nowhere! (Although Blake's work does conjure up a dreamy image that does feel sacred) I , however, would like to examine the ladder as a ladder, without much embellishment. I'd like to consider the ladder as a LADDER! This means that it would look more like something you'd find at Home Depot, rather than at the Guggenheim.

Let's consider some physical facts when trying to visual Jacob's ladder.

Clouds are roughly a mile above the ground : about 6500 feet) (source: here) So, what should we consider when constructing a ladder that's 6500 feet high?

First thing I thought of was "how many rungs are on this ladder?" "How far apart should they be?"

I figured that government engineers might have some standards I could use as a starting point. According to the OSHA website, "The minimum clear distance between the sides of individual-rung/step ladders and the minimum clear distance between the side rails of other fixed ladders shall be 16 inches (41 cm)." (source: here --scroll to 1926.1053(a)(4)(i))
 
So...the answer to the question, "how many rungs are on the ladder to Heaven" is roughly 4333. (If you assume that the rungs are spaced apart accoring to OSHA standards (i.e. 16 inches apart) AND you take into account the width of each rung (I assumed a 2 -inch rung size), then the formula for number of rungs on the ladder to Heaven becomes...the length of earth to sky (i.e. 78000 inches), DIVIDED BY 18 (i.e. the number of inches from rung-to-rung; 16" being the OSHA standard for distance between ladder rungs + the width of each rung, which I've assumed to be 2 inches) comes out to roughly 4333 rungs.

"This works out my leg muscles real good!" (image source: Comic Book Siddur)

Once I had a clearer vision of what an actual ladder to Heaven would have to require from an engineering standpoint, my vision of what the angels looked like started to change. Initially, a had a sweet vision of fresh faced choir members floating around the ladder, as if they were are all riding an escalator in a department store. 

A DRASH OF THE RIDICULOUS: Is there wisdom in laughter?
 
But as the details of the ladder came into clearer focus (due to my calculations), my impression of angels ascending and descending a ladder changed: I began to imagine what someone climbing up and down a ladder would look like: it's not as graceful as I'd initially imagined! I saw figures holding onto the ladder they would fall, straining to hang on as they strained to get up and down each step. Or do angels show signs of strain at all?   My image of angels ascending and descending a ladder to Heaven became more absurd and grotesque, the more literal I tried to make that vision.    I also began to worry about someone ascending and descending a ladder which was over a mile high. Yikes!

Jacob's dream had a meaning. So why does its "message" seem to change when I focus on the technical specifications of Jacob's Ladder?  Does my turning to OSHA standards make it ridiculous? Maybe...but why? There has go to be SOME specifications for a ladder. I mean, Bezalel was given very specific instructions from G-d re: how to build a tabernacle. So why should a ladder be any different?

Scrolling Illuminated Screens VS. "Torah Interruptus"

What's worse: reading torah off of an illuminated scrolling computer screen, or out of a traditional paper book? The scrolling screen highlights a problem inherent with practically all prayer books: page turns interrupt kavanah.

Nowadays, we strive to have more kavanh...but apparently it wasn't always that way. The assumption that I've heard from at least one Orthodox Rabbi, is that the closer in time you are to Moses receiving the tablets from God, the more spiritual you are; in the legends of yesteryear, that is when the Jewish people were more spiritual than they were today. Last week, at our Temple's Shabbat service, the rabbi weighed in on the question of "why don't young Jews feel connected to Judaism?" There were a variety of theories, none of which (curiously) actually asked young Jews themselves for their opinion. I have an opinion, and it's based on my own experience. And it doesn't just address the current young generation, but focuses on a problem that has plagued our services for a long time. That is, the interruption. We call ourselves the "People of the Book", but there's a problem with books: they have pages. Every page turn is an interruption. Is it just me? Or am I the only one trying to keep up with the pace of the prayer service, or struggling to find where we are in the prayerbook.

Of course, one could get lost in a torah scroll too (I've seen it happen!), but the one new idea I thought I'd bring to this blog today is: turning pages in a prayerbook creates and interruption in the congregant's concentration. How lovely, a nice collection of prayer books! But if you lose your place, you're kinda stuck...until you find your place again. As I mentioned a moment ago, even if we used scrolls instead of prayer books, we might still lose our place, and this interruption would mess with our kavana.

When I started writing this, I had a grand idea that the interruption of the page-turn is a significant factor in the history of Jewish spirituality...or at least contributed to the current day problem of young Jews not feeling as "Jewish" as their forebears (is this actually true??)

I don't know what to believe. All I know is that this blog has two advantages that a prayerbook doesn't: scrolling text, and an illuminated screen. I feel that this is an important development in the history of Jewish spirituality, but I'm not sure if it's a good development or a bad one. 

Why am I even thinking like this? Because the Rabbi mentioned that some congregations ("in California") didn't use a prayerbook at all, but rather, converted their prayer book into a PowerPoint presentation, which included a bouncing ball. I asked the elderly congregant behind what he though of a PowerPoint prayer service; he loved the idea! He could see the words clearly, and you could focus on singing, instead of fussing with the book. I then began to wonder, what's stopping us from doing this at our Temple? We've got the technology. I think one reason is because the image of a book is very precious to us Jews.

Well, I've had some experience bucking tradition in the sacred realm, by writing and publishing the Comic Book Siddur. Just as with the electric nose-hair trimmer, people laughed at first, but then...it caught on! Why? Because it's useful, and people felt that it filled a need. So why do we still use traditional hard cover prayer books, when page turns alone are messing with our kavanah? Why doesn't the Reform movement embrace the PowerPoint Shabbat with open arms and laser pointer? Because we have made idols of books. Isn't there an argument to made that a PowerPoint prayer service is more like the Godly image of "black fire on white fire" because light, after all, is radiant energy, similar to light of a light projector??

If we want to increase kavanah at services, and if we want young Jews to "feel" more Jewish (and thus, cultivate an identification with Judaism and Israel) then we should remove the impediments to kavanah, that is, those things that give us torah interruptus.

Kierkegaard's "Fear & Trembling": Isaac is the real existentialist hero

After years of hearing about Soren Kierkegaard's "Fear and Trembling", I finally decided to read it, and I found it excellent. This 150 year old book, for those who don't know, is about the Jewish story known as the "Akeida", where God commands Abraham to sacrifice his son. I find it very difficult to accept the fact that Abraham "proves" his faith in God by showing that he follows God's command without question. Thus Abraham is held up as a model "believer", as someone who doesn't question God's commands. I'm not the only one who struggles with passage. Kierkegaar'd book "Fear and Trembling" is all about the difficulties with this story. I feel he is a kindred spirit! My commentary here takes its cues from Kierkegaard's focus on Isaac.

Abraham is held up as a virtuous figure, yet we really don't know what kind of struggle he went through to bring himself to do this. But regardless, whatever the moral struggle Abrahem might have had, we know what his decision is: to sacrifice his son. I'll say it plainly: this is the WRONG answer. Abraham failed the test. I'm sure that God would have looked upon Abraham just as favorably had Abraham chosen to SPARE his son. If fact, by agreeing to sacrifice his son, Abraham has proven that he is a pagan. But God's command of Abraham is a test after all, right? Had Abraham rejected God's command that he kill his son, God could have just have easily praised him for his decision; for his independence of judgement, for his compassion, and for his moral courage. But no; Abraham is a lesser man because of his blind obedience.

As we read through the torah, we find plenty of examples where God proves to be open to suggestion. One can only wonder what might have happened had Abraham rejected God's command, or at least tried to strike a deal. My guess is that God would have regotiated with Abraham, saying, "tell you what, Abe, how about if you just sacrifice a ram instead?" Some things we just can't, in good conscience, ask people to do. God's request of Abraham, I feel, falls into that category.
Don't forget that Abraham had his son when he was a very old man. And now, he's commanded to kill his son? It's just gross. What's even more disturbing about this story is that no consideration is given to Isaac. How can Isaac have any faith in God, when God has basically sentenced him to die? And for no fault of Isaac's?

Kierkegaard is often held up an an existentialist writer, and surely, the person who is confronted with the existentialist dilemma is not Abraham, but rather, Isaac. Isaac has to live with the fact that God commanded him to die; not so, Abraham. How is Isaac to live the rest of his life, knowing that he's been used as a pawn by God? Abraham is commanded to kill his son, and he doesn't question it. For that, I feel, he is diminished. Isaac, on the other hand, must muster up the courage to go on with life know that God has singled him out to die (the subject of a cruel "test").
I feel that we could learn a lot if, when studying the Akeida, we focus on the existential predicament of Isaac. If you think about it, Isaac too, has been "chosen" by God. I'd say that Abraham represents the "old" faith (where he's commanded to obey), and Isaac represents the "new"; Isaac has to choose to follow God, when he's been given a really good reason no to.

The Rothko Chapel as a Spirtual Comic Book

Recently, I went to Houston, TX to see the famous Rothko Chapel: a small, octogonal shaped room, whose walls are covered with massive dark dark paintings by famed minimalist abstract expressionist painter, Mark Rothko. This gallery-in-the-round is intended to have spiritual (if not religious) resonance for anyone who views it, yet the paintings do not contain any specfically religious imagery. In fact, they are pre-religious: they speak for the cosmic silence, the feelings of awe and infinity and vastness of God and the Universe by illustrating...nothing. Nothing but a black void.


When people first see they work, they think that it is black in color, but after you spend time there, you realize that they are very dark shades of green, red, and purple -- it's just that when colors are very dark in tone, the eye initially regards those colors as black. (In the above image, you'll notice that rather than three "black" paintings, there is actually a red painting flanked by two that are darker and more green)

Once you look into the paintings, however, they start to MOVE. There is actually a sensation of roiling movement, as if one is looking into a churning swamp. But what causes this movement on a still painting? At first I thought that there was something being projected on the canvases, say, a "camera obscura" effect from the skylight; perhaps light from outside was projecting movement from clouds and traffic outside down onto the paintings inside the chapel, with the monochromatic paintings serving as a dark movie screen? When I asked a docent/guardian in the chapel anbout this illusions, she suggested that it could be air turbulence from the AIR CONDITIONING!) I realized, after staring at Rothko's massive void-like paintings that the apparant movement in his work was an optical illusiion, caused by our eyes confusing the complimentary colors of green and red at extremely low shades or values, and then trying to make adjustments in order to properly perceive the color. After staring at his paintings at close range, I could see that they were made with layer upon layer of washes of green on red, over and over, back and forth...until the painted surface approached a black color. I hypothesized that when red and green are damped down to an extremely dark color, our eyes experience a sort of color blindness, for at very dark values, we can't distinguish a warm color from a cool color; we can't tell the difference between dark green and dark red. The result: a dark smouldering roiling effect optical effect, similar to clouds of oil spewing from miles down below the ocean's surface. Hard to believe, until you actually experience this optical illusion: it's truely amazing. Then again, it could be just "spiritual mojo", and I'll accept that without argument.

To those who have an interest in comic books, you might notice that the way that Rothko's arranged his massive paintings is similar to a comic strip. You can stand at one side of the room and "read" the paintings in a continous "strip" format. There is a triad of triptychs, at three points in the room; the triptych is a stand comedic comic strip format, in the question-answer-punchline formula. Also, the green and red colors reminded me of 3D comics from the 1950's. His subject matter was spiritual, but his composition was very much like comic book panels--each painting is either a full-page splash panel, or a two-panel page layout, and in the chapel, he's clustered three sets of them into three-panel "strips".

When sitting right upon the three massive paintings at the front of the chapel, I sense that Rothko actually had an impish sense of humor (or enormous feeling for the power of the artist) for at that perspective, sitting on the beanbag cushion on the floor (not pictured), I feel as if I'm sitting in a chapel to ART itself. While there are no religious icons or imagery in the chapel, there are undeniably PAINTINGS in the chapel. The chapel serves as a place to contemplate the infinite, as well as the phenemon of art itself. Is the Rothko chapel thus a place to worship art as ART (i.e. as an honest encounter for what these objects really are (i.e. PAINTINGS), and not as a simulation of an actual void)? Do we encounter the divine as an esthetic experience? Is there something about the three-paneled comic strip style of rhythm at work in Rothko's paintings? The Rothko chapel is undeniably a sacred space: a sacred place for you to fill-in-the-blank.

God's Backside...Revealed! (to Moses)

Here is a drash that I recently delivered at our Temple:

In the parsha for Pesach (which partially comes from Ki Tissa), I enjoyed how the dialogue between God and Moses felt like two guys haggling. The sounds and scents of the shuk were never too far from my mind as I read though this portion. In parshat Ki Tissa, where God chooses Moses to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land, Moses proves to be suspicious customer.

This parsha starts with God promising freedom, land, and prosperity (“a land of milk and honey”) to the Israelites, but he adds “I will not go in your midst because you are a stiff-necked people.” Incredibly, Moses – that most humble man – is coy about receiving this blessing. He wants God to lead him, even though God has already told Moses that Moses must lead the Israelites himself. So, Moses adds a condition to the deal by asking for a sign from God that God is serious about his choice of Moses. So Moses first tries to make God feel guilty…and it works.

In Exodus 33:13, Moses says to God, (in a voice filled with compassion): “consider that this nation is Your people,” to which God says “I will go in the lead and lighten your burden”. Moses appealed to God, and it paid off! But incredibly, Moses still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted for God to prove his sincerity by showing Moses his presence (as if this conversation between Moses and God wasn’t proof enough). God complies, saying (in line 33:19) “I will make all of my goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name Lord”. This is another incredible sentence, because God promises Moses two impossible things: a view of God, and the leadership that Moses requested. But God warns Moses to not look Him in the face, lest Moses die.

What fascinates me is what comes next, not for what is said, but for what is implied. God says, in line 33:23,”…you will see my back, but my face must not be seen.” This illustrates two important things: first, that God shows Moses His back! It’s not His face, but it’s definitely something significant. It’s God’s back! That counts as a sighting! Second, if you think about it, God does end up leading Moses, just as Moses had requested; if you’re looking at God’s back, then you must be following God. That is, God walks ahead of you. In other words, He’s leading you. By contrast, if you look God in the face, you’d be confronting God. That is, you’d be stiff-necked, which (as we learned earlier in this parsha) only gets God mad.

Moses does very well in this parsha, vis-à-vis God, as it were. I like how the interaction between God and Moses is so pliable. Although God starts out laying down some hard and fast rules with Moses, I’m impressed and surprised at how quickly God is willing to compromise and negotiate. I like how Moses knows how talk to God.

Balaam's donkey vs. the Golden Calf: A Comparison

The siddur starts with the prayer "Mah Tovu", which comes from a passage in Numbers where the prophet Balaam, following King Balaks orders, sets out to curse the Israelites. Instead, Adonai changes Balaam's mind...by speaking to him through the mouth of Balaam's ass! (that is, his donkey). Remember this: God speaks to someone through the mouth of a donkey; a talking donkey. Now, flashback to the infamous "Golden Calf" episode in Exodus, where the Israelites create their own idol made of gold. We all know how this turns out: the Israelites are cursed (actually only scolded) for falling back on such a pathetic spiritual crutch, namely, a golden calf.
But let's change one thing: supposed God spoke to the Ancient Israelites through the mouth of the golden calf, and said (with full intent to freak them out), "what are you people doing?? I'm a golden calf! I am not your true God! Get out of here, you bums! You're embarassing me!" What would be their reaction then?
God has shown that he likes to test the Israelites. Imagine how the Israelites might have redeemed themselves by reacting to golden calf that mocks and scolds them, rather than an angry Moses, who destroys the written law at their feet. The possibilities are intriguing.

Doorposts as a Place of Decision

I've become very intrigued by the symbol of the DOORPOST in the Torah, for it appears to be a symbol of both freedom and servitude. At the doorpost (during the Ten Plagues), we mark our doorpost so that the angel of death will pass over us. At the doorpost (both outside and inside a dwelling) we are to fix a mezzuzah, which contains a passage of Torah scroll which contains a promise to God. And now, in this week's Torah portion, (Mishpatim; Exodus 21:9-24:15) we learn that this is where a slave who doesn't want to be free must proclaim his loyalty and servitude to his master while standing under a doorpost.

From the second paragraph of Exodus 21:5-6, we read that:

"If a slave declares, 'I love my master, and my wife, and my children: I do not wish to go free', his master shall take him before God. He shall be brought to the door or to the doorpost, and his master shall pierce his ear with an awl; and he shall remain a slave for life"

At first I took a modern look at this, envisioning the door as a portal to another world: an entry to a different place. Images of Doctor Strange come to mind! Walking through doorways is a potent symbol; you pass though a doorway, and you are changed; it's a transition. Give that interpretation, it makes sense that a doorway or a doorpost would be a good place to take an oath, with the location adding meaning to the oath.

I was just struck by the fact that doorways have a very serious quality about them: they can lead to good places or bad places; they they symbolize change and transition. So of course, what does this tell us about comics? That the use of the doorway and the doorpost is very potent imagery.

We tend to laugh when we read of another form of Biblical oath-taking: holding the cajones of the oath-taker while uttering a promise (that will make any man suddenly serious), but doorway imagery is very potent. In fact, if you ever want to represent change, or moving to a different place (in all its possibilities and variations) think about doorways and doorposts.

Ya got that...y'awl?

Yitro: the Super-Inlaw

It's interesting how the actions of a person in a text influence how you visualize that person in your mind's eye. If a person is a magnanimous soul, I picture them as being physically big, strong, and robust! If they take a more subordinate role, I picture them as physically smaller. This is how artists in an earlier time, in the mists of history, pictured groups of people: the more important they were, the bigger they were. The less significant they were, the smaller they appeared. Just imagine the pictures of people swelling, larger or smaller, depending on their importance at any particular moment. If someone is important, they physically grow larger and taller. If they they take a subordinate role, they physically shrink. Form follows function, as they say.

That habit of mind persists in my own visualization of characters when reading the Torah, and this sort of visceral visualization impulse is what I used when creating characters for the Comic Book Siddur.

In the torah portion "Yitro", where Moses' father-in-law gives practical advice to Moses, I had a vision of Yitro being a very strong figure, towering over Moses. Here are some notes I'd written to myself while reading parsha Yitro: "Moses' father-in-law: note the influence of Yitro on Moses' interaction with God. Moses really doesn't interact directly with God alone. He has help from the counsel of Yitro. For example, in line 12 (refer to your Chumash!) Yitro shows Moses about protocol and decorum. It's Yitro who brings the burnt offering and the sacrifices to God. Yitro advices Moses to delegate. Lines 17-27 are amazing. They do away with the "Great Man" theory. God may have chosen Moses, but Yitro helped Moses in an incalculable way by coaching him."

After considering this passage, it becomes clear to me that Moses's talk with God is actually triangulated, for Yitro is in Moses' corner, giving Moses advice on leadership and decorum. Yitro really shines here as a magnanimous soul, for without Yitro at this juncture, Moses could have committed a faux pas. He could have done or said something inappropriate or ridiculous. Yitro explained to Moses how he must interact with God (with appropriate sacrifices), and how to lead the Israelite people (by delegating leadership). It's a testament to the father's-in-law, and it's an acknowlegement that our elders are a repository of wisdom.

It makes you wonder if God chose Moses for Yitro. In my mind's eye, I picture Yitro as tall, muscular, and strong, whereas Moses is less so, only because Moses (at this particular point in Exodus) lacked knowledge and insight in how to be most effective with God, and with the People -- until the appearance of Yitro. It also shows you how the generations really are bound together and are dependent on each other: Moses depends on Yitro for advice, and Yitro depends on Moses to listen to it: yet both are concerned with doing well for those outside of themselves: God and the People of Israel. I find Yitro a fascinating character, and I wish I knew more about him. (But at least you know how I think of him: as a guy who's generosity of spirit causes him to physically grow bigger, as if being inflated with a sort of spiritual gas!)

God's costume? You fool!

In my last post, I had fun imaging what God's "costume" might be like, if God were a "superhero". I now realize that I have misspoken--it was a fool's quest. If I must represent God as a comic book character, it would be best if God were OUT of the panel. His presence might be implied, or we might even see a speech balloon pointing to the "voice" of God, but there's no need to have that word balloon actually point at a particular form; pointing to place outside of borders of the comic book box goes a long way to preserving the mystery of God. With this convention, we can include God in comics, and not worry about violating the prohibition of creating graven images. In fact, once you contemplate what God is supposed to respresent (as I read this morning in Parsh Yitro), it's a no-brainer; how do you represent pure and total awesomeness? Answer: don't even try. Just as God advised Moses when they communicated on Mount Sinai, don't look directly at God or you'll be destroyed. Look away, that is, outside the panel.So what's to make of my previous discussion, where I went though the steps of designing a costume for God? Well, whoever puts on that costume is obviously a charlatan and a fool! We need to direct our awareness to the very power of creation itself, not to some "puny human"(or humanoid form), as the Hulk might say.

God's Superhero Costume Design

As I was reading our rabbi's weekly online torah commentary this morning, where he pondered the meaning of the word "commandment", I got to thinking what God might look like if he actually appeared in a comic book, uttering a commandment. I began to feel very uncomfortable with the stereotypical image of God as looking like a shaggy old man in white robes. Now, I know all about the prohibition about portraying creatures and God in a visual sense, but that hasn't prevented people from doing it anyway.

Visualizing is a powerful way of learning. If a subject seems vague or unclear, draw a diagram: a picture, and then suddenly, the sweet light of understanding graces your brain! Even though the diagram may be wrong, it still has explanatory value: it takes a stand, and makes a claim on reality.

So, why can't we play a game and imagine what God would look like if he had a superhero costume? God's been playing with us for thousands of years. It's a popular observation in our Torah study class at our local Temple: if God is all-knowing, why does he test us? Presumably He's complete knowlege of our lives, our actions, their causes, and their eventual results. (If that were really be the case, then His anger would be revealed as cruel. Does an all-knowing being feel shock or surprise? There's the paradox) But still, He tests us just to see how we'll choose (even though he presumably knows what the outcome will be in advance) So though God is Fierce, Awesome, and All-Powerful, He still has an impish quality: he like to test us, just to watch our reaction to our actions.

Well, what I'm suggesting is not too radical. From the murals on the walls to at the synagogue at Dura Europos, to the archetypal image of God as being a big guy with a white beard in flowing white robes, we've always had (I'll wager) SOME hidden image in our minds that stood for God. It may have been a burning bush, it may have been a sentient cloud, it may have been beautiful woman doing a fan dance,it may have been a sunset, or it may have been the image of the hard cover edition of the Plaut Torah Commentary -- but still, we use images as stand-ins for concepts.

Simplification helps you get a glimpse of the "Big Picture", and the Big Picture can give you the qualities of a visionary. So imagining a what God's costume would look like in a superhero comic book isn't too far-fetched. So right now, we're saddled with the image of God as an old guy with a long white beard in a flowing gown. Well, I say He's due for a costume change. I say that instead of representing God in human form, that we just make Him a floating undulating pulsating infinity symbol. That would capture the idea that God is boundless in an infinite number of ways, but maybe we could add the quality of God not being where you think He is, like Heisenberg's uncertainty principle: so make the infinity symbol flickers, to mess with you! This is to capture the idea that God cannot be bound by time or space either.

There. I've come up with a start for creating a superhero repesentation for the idea of God Himself: a flickering Infinity symbol. This could be emblazoned on the chest of a Man (we'll call the man "Mo"-- as in "Moses") and the flickering infinity symbol with hover in a space right square in the Man's chest. The man (Mo) and the "logo" (Infinity) are One; they act with telepathic knowledge of each other. Sometimes the logo disappears...and then it reappears again, depending whether God is connecting with someone at that particular moment, because we know that God is only present when Man/Woman looks for Him, and tries to see Him. Oh, and our character will also look something like the Silver Surfer, but there will probably be a blue face mask with some blue trim elsewere.

God really only exists if we acknowledge His existence. This gets back to the point I was making earlier about Reality. Our world is populated with things that we allow to exist. If we don't acknowlege their presence, or better, if we aren't AWARE of their presence, then they're invisible to us.

These are awesome concepts, hard to get one's "mind around", so I don't see anything wrong with creating a superhero design for God that helps remind us of the properties of God. The gruff shaggy old man in a throne just aint cuttin' it, because that image only gets across the ideas of old, angry, vindictive men. It doesn't represent anything about Eternity, or Infinity, or us being in a sort of partnership. Thus a costume redesign, with accompanying undulating flittering logo is a good move. I have spoken!