Rabbi Michael Samuel

The Divine Feminine—The Theology of Immanence

History has shown us time and time again how God-images impact the way a religious culture treats its female members. Cultures ruled by a misogynistic conception of the Divine, cannot help but treat its women in a barbarous manner. Indeed, a society that hates its women becomes incapable of loving anything else. Conversely, a religious culture that respects and values the maternal aspects of the Divine Feminine produces a community of believers where life becomes sacred and holy. The reverence for life—across the ideological spectrum—becomes the basis for all societal evolution and development.

Indeed, the new feminist theological movement offers to liberate men and woman from the shackles of a pure masculine anthropomorphic spirituality while expanding their theological horizons about the mysterious nature of the Divine that conceives, carries, and gives birth to all life-forms. Every metaphor of God in the Tanakh paints its own unique picture for how the divine interrelates with the world. The metaphor of God as Mother reveals relationships that in some ways go beyond the limitations of paternal imagery. The fact that the Tanakh uses such language indicates that the feminine engendering of God is not necessarily a dangerous or syncretistic concession to the ancient Canaanite religions. Feminine nuances found in the Scriptures indicate how dynamic God language can actually be. Ancient prophets were not opposed to sometimes using bold feminine imagery to convey the nature of God’s pathos and concern. Maternal representations of God are embedded in Hebrew language that have been until recently, largely ignored. Here are some examples:

Can a woman forget her nursing child,

or show no compassion for the child of her womb?

Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.

Isaiah 49:15

Similarly, in Isaiah 42:14, the prophet also depicts God’s bio-centric passion for justice in feminine terms:

For a long time I have held my peace,

I have kept still and restrained myself;

now I will cry out like a woman in labor,

I will gasp and pant.

Isaiah 42:14

The image of God acting as a mother giving birth to her child portrays a God Who is present alongside those people who are trying to midwife a new world where human degradation, apathy and suffering no longer exist. This organic depiction of God does not portray the Divine reality as being extrinsic or unaffected by the harsh presence of evil that is incarnated by malevolent people. The Talmud and the Midrash both describe the unfolding of the Messianic Redemption as the חֶבְלֵי-מָֹשִיחַ (Heblê müšîªH)—the birth-pangs of the Messiah. According to the Talmud, the Messiah was born on the day of Tisha B’ Av, the Ninth of Av for the number nine symbolizes birth and new life. One of the most popular and intimate rabbinic names for God is רַחֲמָנָא Rachamana – “The Merciful One.” The Hebrew word for “compassion”רַחֲמִים (raHámîm) comes from the root רֶחֶם (reºHem) for “womb.” God’s compassion and mercy are not extrinsic for in a metaphorical sense, we come from God’s womb. The womb is the place where all life is mysteriously conceived, carried and born. Read more…

A reader may wonder: What was wrong with Cain’s sacrifice?

Professor Robert Alter writes that the biblical narrator used several techniques to convey meaning, e.g., statements by the anonymous narrator, by God, by heroes or heroines, by verbal clues, by juxtaposition of material, by characterization, and by effects of actions. Applying this technique, the verbal clues of the narrative can yield a number of interpretations that reveal the quality of Cain’s sacrifice. Some early rabbinic sources think Cain offered an inferior grade of sacrifice. Unlike his brother who offers the “firstlings of his flock,” Cain does not offer the “firstfruits” of his field. This could suggest that the rabbis may have indeed been correct in their scriptural observation.

This exposition would certainly be consistent with the prophetic message of sacrifices, e.g., the offering in sacrifice of a lame, sick, or blind animal is expressly forbidden in the Torah (Lev. 22:17-25; Deut. 17:1). However, it is in the prophetic literature, this reason for this proscription becomes lucid and understandable.

“So says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests, who despise his name. But you ask, ‘How have we despised your name?’  By offering polluted food on my altar! Then you ask, ‘How have we polluted it?’ By saying the table of the LORD may be slighted!  When you offer a blind animal for sacrifice, is this not evil? When you offer the lame or the sick, is it not evil? Present it to your governor; see if he will accept it, or welcome you, says the LORD of hosts” (Malachai 1:6-8).

However, what if Cain’s sacrifice failed because of an entirely different reason-namely, his attitude?

Here too, Philo’s exposition may shed some light. According to him, a bad person’s offering will never be considered a “true sacrifice,” for “even if he were to bring the altar ten thousand oxen every day without intermission; for his most important and indispensable offering, namely his soul, is polluted. And it is impious for polluted things to come near to the altar.” In other words, the worshiper’s attitude is even more important than what the actual sacrifice, which may be physically fine. Philo of Alexandria seems to be suggesting that so long as the heart and soul of the worshiper remains tinged with selfishness and pride, these kinds of moral imperfections will mar the beauty of any offering that is brought to the altar of God.

Despite some ambivalence Maimonides felt about the institution of animal sacrifices, the great Jewish philosopher argues that animal sacrifice can reflect a noble impulse that pushes one to give one’s very best in areas that go far beyond the cultic sector.

For example, Maimonides considers Abel’s sacrifice as a paradigm for all types of voluntary charitable giving. Every sacrifice must be given as an act of love and devotion; indeed, the absence of these qualities invalidates and cheapens the religious experience. Without the cultivation of the giving spirit, no virtue is possible. Although this is not a strict requirement in the legalistic sense, nevertheless the one who is truly concerned about becoming close to God must go beyond mere perfunctory worship. Maimonides writes:

Anyone wishing to become personally worthy of merit should overcome the urge toward selfishness and make it a point to always offer one’s best and finest, so that his offering will be most exemplary. The Torah says: “and Abel for his part brought of the firstlings of his flock, their fat portions” (Gen. 4:4). The same rule ought to apply to every kind of offering: whatever one gives should come from the finest and very best. The house of prayer that one builds must be nicer than one’s own personal dwelling; the same spiritual principle ought to be applied to other areas of one’s devotional life, e.g., with respect to the poor, one feeds the hungry with one’s very best and tasty foods on one’s table; the naked should be clothed with very finest of one’s wardrobe, and one should always dedicate the very best of all one’s possessions—even as the Torah states, “All fat belongs to the Lord” (Lev. 3:16). [1]

For Maimonides, God’s choice of Abel’s sacrifice was not based at all on what each person offered, but was instead predicated on the motive of the participants. In other words, the central issue that is raised in the story of Cain and Abel story was not so much about the quality of the sacrifice as it was about the personality of the one offering the sacrifice. Cain and Abel represent the distinction between selfless worship and selfish worship. From Cain’s sacrifice, the reader may discern how even spiritual worship can degenerate into an act that is perfunctory in purpose and in scope. Toward the end of Maimonides’s life, he focused considerable attention on this specific theme. Maimonides felt that Cain’s sacrifice failed because he was miserly in his giving; he withheld his best. He writes:

He has ordained that all the offerings be perfect in the most excellent condition, in order that the sacrifice should not come to be held in little esteem and that what was offered to His name, may He be exalted, be not despised, as it is written “‘When you bring blind animals for sacrifice, is that not wrong? When you sacrifice crippled or diseased animals, is that not wrong? Try offering them to your governor! Would he be pleased with you? Would he accept you?’ says the Lord Almighty” (Mal. 1:8).[2]