In memory of Mr Paul Levene z’l (Pinchas Yosef Ben Shmuel)
Who am I?
The question has vexed thinkers since time immemorial. Meditating monks, melancholic teens, and men in midlife crisis — at some point, we must all embark on the enduring search for self. We discover wisdom not by regurgitating dry facts but by probing our inner world.
In discussing identity, ancient Greek philosophers posed the Ship of Theseus paradox. This puzzle was named after a mythical hero who returned to Athens on a ship later preserved for posterity. Over decades, locals incrementally refurbished the vessel by replacing its old planks with fresh ones until none of the original timber remained. Thus, a famous dilemma emerged: Was this still Theseus's boat?
Our lives are filled with numerous transformations, which gradually differentiate us from our past selves. Like stones on a shore, our personalities are shaped by time's relentless weathering. In this sense, each individual's character mirrors Theseus' ship, developing through the exchange of beams and boards — undergoing a steady transition while clinging to a distinct appearance. A similar query then arises: Am I ever the same person I once was?
Self-knowledge begins with asking questions, regardless of whether they can be answered. But it remains the unanswered riddle itself that illuminates a fundamental aspect of human nature. Namely, man inhabits a dual state of being. He is defined by constant evolutionary change and yet simultaneously an extension of his original identity. Every version of oneself is tethered to the whole by an invisible thread.
So, we recognise that humanity is subject to constant change. In fact, it would be fair to say that perpetual movement defines life itself. Let us now examine in more detail the nature of this change. Life's Motion is not fixed but a back-and-forth rhythm. For instance, the cycle of inhaling and exhaling which oxygenates our bodies. Or the heart's alternating contractions and relaxations. Our internal clock swings between periods of wakefulness and restorative sleep. On a cellular level, reactions proceed through successive stages of binding and unbinding.
This unending dance conveyed in our physical forms mirrors mankind's spiritual condition. Through a continual back-and-forth motion, we find ourselves tethered to the past yet simultaneously striving for something radically different. Rabbi Yehudah Halevi, the author of The Kuzari, stressed the gulf between 'the God of Aristotle' and 'the God of Avraham'. For Aristotle, God constituted a remote abstraction formulated through conceptual reasoning—a philosopher's rationale for why the universe exists. But 'the God of Avraham' differs profoundly from theoretical constructs. For us, the Almighty is not a theory but the inexhaustible wellspring of all being. We encounter Him intimately in every facet of our life. And where do we come closest to discerning His presence? As part of life's rhythmic ebb and flow. God is felt most fervently within the give and take.
Everything we have discussed so far illuminates the cryptic blessing that Yitzchak bestows upon his younger son Yaakov. The verse states:
And may the Lord give you the dew of the heavens, the fatness of the earth, and an abundance of grain and wine.
Rashi: And may the Lord give you - May He give and return and give
{Bereishis 27: 28}
Why does Yitzchak begin his blessing with the word 'and' when this passage does not follow from anything preceding it? In light of our discourse, the answer should be clear. Much like life itself, the word 'and' carries dual implications. It points to something new that is also connected to whatever came before it. 'And' signals continuity paired with change, stability amidst renewal. This also clarifies why Rashi interprets the blessing to mean that God will 'give and return and give'. For God to return and give, he must first withdraw. And whilst this might initially appear as an obstacle to our relationship with Him, we now understand that the almighty is most vividly sensed in this back-and-forth.
Existence invariably entails hardships as we traverse seasons of bounty as well as barrenness. Yet there is wisdom in life’s rhythm. Just as the body fluctuates between exertion and rest, so too does the human experience oscillate between plenitude and privation, attainment and longing. Significantly, our relationship with the divine follows a similar pattern. Periods may pass where the Almighty feels distant despite our deepest yearning for connection.
Nevertheless, these trends are only meaningless if seen in isolation. Viewed as a whole, their broader purpose becomes apparent - to sustain a perpetual dialogue between ourselves and our heavenly father. Even in the darkest and loneliest moments, that invisible thread remains intact, ready to lift us at the turning of destiny's tide. It's in the give and take that our answers may be found - not to life's mysteries but to life itself, in all its continual becoming.
We continue to pray for the well-being of our Jewish brothers and sisters in Israel
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Truly, you are a pondering Jew. Nice one Yaacov.
Thought provoking. I tend to rest my brain and resort to making a fist and asking, "Ponder this!" Appreciate you.