Risks Worth Taking

Yom Kippur sermon delivered at Temple B”nai Abraham, Livingston, 5784

If I were to say, “it’s alive, it’s alive,” many of you would immediately recognize Dr. Frankenstein’s words from the classic 1931 film based on Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel. The Frankenstein story is one of the great tales of hubris in an attempt to conquer death. For those who don’t know the story, the short version is that Dr. Henry Frankenstein creates a humanoid form out of parts taken from recently deceased bodies and brings it to life in a lightning storm. Rather than nurturing the creature, he treats it as a monster. The creature in turn becomes a monster, going on a rampage with deathly results. The book’s plot is far more complex, but the idea similar. While we can read this story as a cautionary tale against certain scientific pursuits, we can also read this story as one potential outcome in the work of prolonging and improving life, and not wasting a moment in doing so. Often, the pursuit of knowledge is a gamble. The risks may be immense, but without these gambles, civilization would not be what it is today.

We have our own Jewish stories of dangerous gambles for the sake of creating and preserving life. One of these gambles comes from the Talmudic period, when we first learn about the Golem, a humanoid creature formed from mud, brought to life by learned rabbis skilled in using God’s secret mystical names to shape and alter reality, as God did at Creation. Much later, we have the famous story of the Maharal, Rabbi Judah Loew of Prague, who created a Golem using these mystical names to defend the Jewish community against would-be attackers. While the Golem would be a success for some time, some accounts tell us that the Golem soon got out of hand. It got too powerful and had to be captured and changed back to a pile of earth. A gamble gone sideways. There are, however, many stories of creating Golems in our tradition where nothing bad happens. In those stories, the Golem was helpful for as long as we needed it. Lives saved for the Jewish community, no harm, no foul. 

While the Golem stories are myths and Frankenstein a work of fiction, both stories carry underlying truths and commentaries on certain risks taken. The Golem stories address what it can mean when we Jews acquire tremendous power, and specifically what happens when this power goes unchecked. Like Frankenstein, we have studied cadavers— Leonardo DaVinci took great risk in obtaining them to develop his theories of biology and medicine. In the study of how we move, electricity has been a major tool. Indeed, today, we ward off death with transplants from organ donors and we set hearts to proper rhythms with electricity.

Throughout history, we’ve taken great risks for the sake of growth, exploration, knowledge, power, and of course, the prolonging of life and conquering death. Some risks were minor, but others could have had catastrophic impacts. Some risks could be foreseen, and others only evident after the fact. I’m sure we can think of many of these gambles. A few examples? Towns and cities, where people had to choose to trust more human beings than they could possibly know. Putting ideas into writing, where they could be too easily shared. Global exploration, including that famous voyage of 1492. The founding of the United States, an enormous experiment in democracy. Modern medicine. The Manhattan Project. Space exploration. Artificial Intelligence. None of these, however, qualify for me, as the greatest and riskiest gamble in history. 

What is the gamble that carried the most risk, that has so far had the most disastrous and consequential impact on this planet, with the greatest threat to life as we know it, and yet is also an absolutely necessary risk, at least from certain perspectives? 

Humankind. The greatest cosmic risk ever taken was when God, on day six of Creation, said, let us make humankind in our image. After bringing other forms of life into this world, God created a being with the divine gift of a discerning mind and Free Will, with a choice no less significant than choosing to follow or go against God’s wishes. 

What happened with this gamble? Yes, Adam and Eve tended the Garden of Eden and named all the animals, but Eve committed that first act against the Creator almost immediately in eating the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, giving humankind the gift withheld that made us so powerful we were expelled from the Garden. Of course, we must wonder if God’s intention all along was to have us deviate, to use that free will and pursue knowledge and growth. We then have our first murder when Cain kills Abel. We become violent, as a species, bringing so much destruction to the world that God pulls the plug with the Flood, and with this reset, puts in a release to curb our violent methods— permission to slaughter animals and eat meat so that we might channel our tendencies. Later, humanity, seeking fame and eternity out of hubris and vanity, joins together to build the Tower of Babel. And to correct us, God knocks us down and scatters us through the world. 

Then an exception happens, the gamble pays off a little bit. A young Avram realizes that there must be a God in this world, and that God may be in need of a human partner. God calls to Avram, and together they begin a process that continues to this day. Yes, there will continue to be failures along the way on scales great and small, many described in the Torah, and yet, God stands by us, again and again and again. 

Today is proof of that. teshuvah, embodied in this day of Yom Kippur, is a demonstration that God not only recognizes that God’s gamble on us carried risk, but that God set up mechanisms to minimize the risk and guide us forward. Teshuvah ensures that there is always a way back from paths ill-chosen, and these High Holy Days remind us of the urgency of engaging in these acts of self-correction.

But why, why this cosmic gamble in the first place, on a species so highly capable of destruction?

One answer to this question comes from one of the greatest theologians and pluralists of our time, Rabbi Irving Greenberg. Rav Yitz, as he is called among his students, believes that to counter a universe that left to its own devices would disintegrate into chaos, God set up three “fundamental rhythms” to Creation: the first, from chaos to order, the second, from non-life to life, and the third, from simple to complex. In the Genesis Creation story, God creates order with word. Life develops from plants and simple water-based creatures to highly advanced mammals. Rav Yitz argues that ultimately, God’s goal was to create a full partner, just as capable as God. That’s why we were created in God’s image, so that we could fully function as God’s agents in this world. 

Rav Yitz wrote that

“[t]his process [of Creation] culminates in human beings, capable of detecting and understanding the cosmic rhythms, grasping the Divinely willed direction and outcome of all existence. With this understanding, humans have the power and choice to join into and amplify these rhythms— or to go against them and even seek to defeat them.” [2]

In order to be partners for God, we have to choose to opt in, which requires that we’re also able to choose to opt out. Free Will poses the great risk to this cosmic gamble. Free Will not just for choosing whether just to follow God’s plan, but to ultimately become like God, and shape, build, and even create our own worlds so that we might bring order to this universe and prolong and improve life in this world. 

When thinking about miracles, and why we have an account of God intervening through them in ancient times but not today, Rav Yitz suggested that God was ultimately raising us human beings in stages. God was directly involved during the infancy of humanity and the Israelites, when there was little that we could do for ourselves. With the rabbinic period, at the start of the first millennium, we demonstrated far more creativity and far more mastery over the world around us and with this development, God pulled back, becoming more spiritually present, closer in relationship, but only working miracles at minor scales. Ultimately, we reached Rav Yitz’s third period, the modern period, where we human beings began to literally work miracles, like flying, communicating over enormous distances, and creating life in labs. In this period, God’s gamble— God’s partners— reached the benchmark where God could finally pull back from active creative miracle-based involvement, as miracles—as life—now come from us. 

Rav Yitz found one of the ultimate proofs for his theory through considering the Holocaust, the greatest atrocity we Jews ever experienced in modern times. Rav Yitz’s proof is that Jews and other prisoners’ fates were decided entirely by human beings. Where people failed, people died, and where people intervened, whether individuals, communities, or nations, people lived. Another one of is Rav Yitz’s proofs is the State of Israel, as it was through human efforts, in building our own Zion, something that more traditional Jews were waiting for God to do, that the prophet Jeremiah’s prophecy was fulfilled, of there one day being singing and laughter in the streets of Jerusalem.  God’s gamble seems to be paying off, despite the many who demonstrate otherwise.

What is the assurance, exactly, that God’s hopes for us will win out over the dangers that we bring to the equation?

It seems that God took significant measures to mitigate the risks and support our success, and God never gave up, remaining with us until we finally reach redemption. We saw, through biblical history, that God adapted and intervened to guide us on the right path. We received Torah and its mitzvot, holy commands that at their basis, exist to create order, improve life, and carry us toward a perfect world. When we follow these mitzvot or even just adhere to their underlying principles, we are following God’s ways, pushed in that better direction. 

Over these holy days, we hear of three particular safeguards: teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah— repentance, prayer, and acts of righteousness, all designed to guide us, help us form good habits, and urge us down a path of altruism and holiness. All the while, God is ready for us when we reach out, to give us whatever strength and support we need. 

While the world today still has far too much brokenness, life has reached a phenomenal level of complexity and success. We are at the point, where like God, we are now creating, making miracles every day. Through our discoveries and growing capacities, we may even be close to creating our own partners—our own agents—in bringing order, improving life, and building even greater life. This means, that we are very much at the precipice of taking the same kind of gamble that God took on us, with all its risks and possibilities.

This means that, like God, we need to take every measure we can to mitigate dangers and ensure success for our people, for humanity, and for all life on this planet.

First, let’s recognize that we are not here to master the world and take it how we please. We are here for a divine purpose. It is our choice whether to fulfill that purpose, but let us choose wisely, as there will always be consequences.

Second, we need to regularly recall that gambles are necessary in the pursuit of meaningful, long, and healthful life. There will be risks but this cannot stop us if we are to truly serve as God’s agents in Creation.

Third, we take these risks as safely as we can. We put up protections, we evaluate and reevaluate, and we make changes along the way. Sometimes we’ll have to pull the plug and start over, but no matter what, we remain committed to the end.

This needs to be the case with all of our major experiments, whether it’s cloning, climate, AI, or democracy in the US and Israel. We took risks, and now, we must commit until our vision of perfection is realized. Anything else is an invitation to chaos.  

This afternoon, as Rabbi Edwards taught us last night, we’ll be reading from the book of Jonah, a minor prophet running away from God to avoid delivering hard news to an errant people. In the final chapter, Jonah sits down in the hot sun. God causes a plant to grow and give him shade, and as Jonah sits there doing nothing to tend this plant, God sends a worm to kill it. As Jonah overheats and exclaims that he wishes he were dead, God reprimands him. “Jonah, you loved this plant, but you did nothing to care for it. Should I not care for the great city of Nineveh, where there are more than 120 000 of my creations?” [2]

Had Dr. Frankenstein not given up and rejected his Creation, there would have been no monster. Had Rabbi Loew kept up with everything he was supposed to do, the Golem would have remained in control. 

Hopefully, we, here today, are dreaming, building, and experimenting for a better tomorrow. But as we spend our day, today, in deep reflection and prayer, may we also be careful that we do all within our God-given capacity to safeguard that by which we have already been blessed. May we work to guide humanity’s gambles so that we may continue to walk in God’s ways, follow God’s rhythms, and find life everlasting. We are God’s agents and partners in this universe. May we be sure to take this responsibility seriously. 

Gamar Chatimah Tovah. 

[1] Greenberg, Irving. Triumph of Life (Manuscript), 2023.

[2] Jonah 4:1-11, adapted