Can one quantify suffering? Can one give it a number, weigh it, put it on a scale?
Several weeks ago, Japan’s Nuclear Safety Commission (NSC) decided to elevate its rating for the severity of the Fukishima –Dai’ichi nuclear disaster.
It changed the rating from 5—“very severe”—to 7—the maximum grade for a nuclear accident—’7’ being what was given to the Chernobyl reactor meltdown, the very worst nuclear accident in history.
Of course, many within Japan and outside Japan, criticized the Commission, saying they had exaggerated the significance and severity of the event.
Caving to pressure, Japan’s Nuclear Commision decided to downgrade the rating from 7 to 6, before later upgrading it again to 7.
In reading these reports, one could not help but feel that something was amiss. By way of an analogy, in our zealousness to calculate exactly how many trees had been lost in the wildfire, we lost sight of what was done to the entire forest.
Lives were lost. Many thousands had to evacuate their homes. Hundreds of thousands are without power. There is an environmental toll: Farmland rendered infertile by radiation; water rendered unpalatable; poisoned fish, livestock, fruit, grain… The forest is devastated—how can one put a number to this kind of loss?
There is a point in the Haggadah that (for some) creates a measure of discomfort. It’s in the section of Maggid, where we repeat the plagues aloud, where we praise the great hand of retribution—the Yad Chazaka, with which God struck Egypt.
The section culminates in one of the strangest debates in rabbinic literature, a disagreement between R. Yossi, R. Eliezer, and R. Akiva.
‘Says R. Yossi, the Egyptians were struck by ten plagues in Egypt and 50 by the sea. Says R. Eliezer, they were struck by 40 plagues in Egypt and 200 by the sea. No, opines R. Akiva, it was much worse than that: 50 plagues in Egypt and 250 amidst the sea.’
In other words, shall we give it a 5 (very severe), a 6 (unbelievably severe), or 7 (the worst imaginable).
By comparison, the Japanese estimating the extent of damage caused by their failed nuclear reactor, makes a great deal of sense; in order to rally the appropriate response, they need to first gage the extent of the damage.
But here at the Seder, assessing the retribution exacted long ago against Mitzrayim, feels like nothing less than gloating.
There were plagues of blood and hail, pestilence and darkness, Egypt’s firstborn were struck down; we read this morning how its footmen and cavalry are swept away amidst the towering sea.
We get the picture. Do we really need exact numbers?
In response, I believe there are two approaches.
The first, alluded to above, might be characterized by a sense of embarrassment: It is somewhat inappropriate to gloat at every trouble that struck Egypt—to calculate down to the last frog, lout, and locust what was brought upon them.
The second view might be characterized by righteous satisfaction: Mitzrayim got what it deserved. As they did to us, God did unto them.
Don Isaac Abarbanel expressed both views in a familiar comment on the Haggadah: “The reason why we pour a few drops of wine from our glass as we read aloud the ten plagues is to attest that our joy is not complete, as our salvation had to come about through the punishment of others; even though it was just and right that they be punished through these terrible acts, nevertheless,
בִּנְפֹל אויביך (אוֹיִבְךָ), אַל-תִּשְׂמָח;
“Rejoice not, when your enemy falls.””
In a way this tension continues into the next section of Dayenu:
“Had God taken us out of Egypt, but had not exacted retributions upon them, Dayenu.”
Had God exacted retributions, and not destroyed their gods, Dayenu.
Had God destroyed their gods, but not killed their firstborn, Dayenu.”
Yes, we sing happily that they got what they deserved. At the same time, we also recite, Dayenu. “It’s enough!”
However, I shall conclude with one view, and not the other.
As many of you know, this month marked the 150th anniversary of the outbreak of the American Civil War. The conflict “remains the deadliest war in American history, resulting in the deaths of 620,000 soldiers and an undetermined number of civilian casualties. Ten percent of all Northern males 20–45 years of age died, as did 30 percent of all Southern white males aged 18–40.” (Wiki)
At the close of the war, many asked why was it necessary for there to be so much suffering? Surely, the cause was good and just...freeing America’s black slaves was a moral obligation, but why did it have to come at such a steep price in blood?
And here I leave you with the words of Abraham Lincoln. From his second inaugural address:
“If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether."
[In case you didn’t catch the last part:]
“until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether."
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