One of the most powerful images that I have seen recently is a photograph of Gilad Shalit in his army uniform. He is 19 years old but looks younger. My guess is that many of us have been moved by this photo. May he be speedily reunited with his family, and may his comrades held captive by Hizbollah likewise return home soon.
Another powerful image sticks in my mind: a photograph of Planet Mars. The photo was part of an email my mother forwarded to me: The email said: "This month and next, Earth is catching up with Mars in an encounter that will culminate in the closest approach between the two planets in recorded history. The next time Mars may come this close is in 2287. Due to the way Jupiter's gravity tugs on Mars and perturbs its orbit, astronomers can only be certain that Mars has not come this close to Earth in the Last 5,000 years, but it may be as long as 60,000 years before it happens again.... By the end of August when the two planets are closest, Mars will rise at nightfall and reach its highest point in the sky at 12:30a.m." In fact, this email was mistaken: Mars' close encounter with the Earth came in October, 2005 (science.nasa.gov/headlines/y2005/27may_approachingmars.htm). Nevertheless, the image got me thinking...
Who cares about Mars? Nowadays, among our acquaintances, mostly astronomers. But for most of human history, Mars was of interest to human beings because of its astrological significance. People believed that Mars, like the other planets, wielded a decided influence over the lives of peoples and of individuals. When I say, ‘people,’ I include most Jews, at least those who lived in Babylonia during the time of the Talmud and in Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East thereafter. I certainly do not include the Rambam, Maimonides, who was persistent and unbending in his opposition to astrology. He was an anomaly till modern times in this regard.
I think it is useful to think about these things as Earth and Mars have recently drawn close. I am not suggesting that any of us should start reading the horoscope. But I do think it is important to think about the astrological aspect of our Jewish heritage, for two reasons: First, this astrological aspect connects us strongly with the imagination. We Jews in the west have suffered, and still suffer, from a deficit of imagination since the Enlightenment. Second, and more urgent at the current juncture, thinking about Mars helps us to take seriously the situation which Israel, and the Jewish people as a whole, faces right now.
What is the place of Mars in the Jewish tradition? First, it has a name, mentioned in the Talmud and Midrashim though not in the Bible: מאדים. Ma’adim means "the red one," as in the expression, "Red Planet." Ma'adim/Mars was one of the seven planets along with Saturn, Jupiter, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon. Saturn is "Shabtai," Jupiter is "Tzedek," the Sun is "Chamah," Venus is often called "Nogah," Mercury is "Kochav," and the Moon is "Levanah." Granted, we don’t think of the Moon and Sun as planets, but our ancestors did. In the Siddur, we refer to these planets weekly. They are referred to in the prayer "Ei-l Adon" that we sing before the Shma on Shabbat:
שבח נותנים לו כל צבא מרום.
These words allude to the names שבתי נוגה לבנה כוכב צדק מאדים. The sun is referred to in the previous stanza:
קרא לשמש ויזרח אור...
He summoned the Sun and it broke forth with light.
For Babylonians, Mars was associated with Nergal, their deity of fire, war, and destruction. The Greeks associated the planet with Ares, god of war. The Romans used the name of their god of war, Mars. The Sanskrit name also reflects the name of a war god.
What does our tradition say about Ma’adim?
Rabbi Hanina said to his disciples...He who is born under Mars will be a shedder of blood. R. Ashi observed: Either a surgeon, a thief, a slaughterer, or a circumciser. (bShabbat 156a, Soncino).
How seriously were the rabbis in making this kind of assertion? They were not of one mind:
Rabbah said: I was born under Mars [H.A.Massig: yet am not violent]. Abaye retorted: You too inflict punishment and kill. (bShabbat 156a, Soncino)
The prominent sages Rabbi Akiva, Rav, Shmuel, Rabbi Yochanan are all quoted as saying
אין מזל לישרשל
that Israel (the Jewish people) is immune from planetary influence. Yet they believe there is such a thing as planetary influence!
For example, there is a practical lesson on appropriate time for bloodletting in Masechet Shabbat:
Samuel also said: The correct time for bloodletting is on a Sunday Wednesday and Friday, but not on Monday or Thursday, because a Master said: He who possesses ancestral merit may let blood on Monday and Thursday, because the Heavenly Court and the human court are alike then. Why not on Tuesday? Because the planet Mars rules at even-numbered hours of the day. (bShabbat129b).
To which Rashi comments: ומזל מאדים ממונה על החרב ועל הדבר ועל הפורעניות
"The planet Mars controls war, sickness, and other calamities."
Today in our enlightened West, we continue to associate Mars with war. One of the best known works of classical music in the 20th century is the first movement of Gustav Holst’s orchestral suite, The Planets. That movement, written shortly before World War I, is called "Mars, Bringer of War." When we think of aliens, we often refer to them as Martians. H. G. Wells wrote his "War of the Worlds" about an invasion of Martians.
We’re not talking about Science Fiction or Astrology. Taking Mars seriously means taking war seriously, taking calamity seriously. This is appropriate at the time of year we are marking now: the three weeks leading up to the anniversary of the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash:
שולחן ערוך אורח חיים סימן תקנא משנכנס אב )א( א ממעטין בשמחה; ובר ישראל דאית ליה דינא בהדי כותי, )ב( ב לישתמיט מיניה דריע מזליה
[Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 551: "Once the month of Av begins, we limit joy.... Its mazal/constellation/planet is bad."] Taking Mars seriously is also appropriate this particular year, as Israel is battling an army (in Lebanon) and militias (in Gaza) that are candid in their stated desire to obliterate the Jewish state.
We could at another time talk about war and peace in the Jewish tradition. There is a dynamic tension between the experience of war and the experience of peace: "a time for peace, a time for war." Between the experience of war in the present of the hope of a war-free era of perfection: "לא ישא גוי אל גוי חרב לא ילמדו עוד מלחמה." Isaiah 2:4: May nation not lift sword against nation; may they wage war no more.
We are not there yet, we are in another, more complicated and messy place. We experience the distance of Gilad Shalit, Ehud Goldwasser, and Eldad Regev, we can only imagine the pain of that distance for themselves and their families; and we may have experienced the relative closeness of Mars. Mars, and all that it has represented for us, is too close for comfort. We hope for a more peaceful future. In the meantime, I believe it is essential for us not to confuse our modern world with the messianic era: we cannot wish away pain, hatred, and violence. We have to come to grips with it, and that sometimes means we must meet fire with fire.
May a more peaceful day come soon. (Posted and edited twice on 7/20/06)
-- H. A. Massig המשיג
