| Nobody needs to hear that we live in polarized times. We know it. We see it in the media we consume. We sense it in friends and family. We feel it in our bodies. Polarized times often reflect and feed polarized thinking. “She’s the best.” “He’s awful.” “These times are the worst.” “We’re blessed beyond measure.” “We’re toast.” Some things genuinely seem to be extremes of good or bad – but not everything. There’s a Middle Pathway beckoning us through. |
By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Parashat Re’eh 5785 (2025)
One study after another confirms what I imagine we already know in our bones: we live in polarized times.
From media and politics to community and social media (especially social media), we are experiencing turbulence, dispute and disagreement projected back at us. Measures of trust across society are declining, while worry and pessimism are on the rise. One set of experts reported that “A gnawing sense of angst seems to have descended upon us.”
Polarized times tend to reflect – and also feed into – polarized thinking and polarized feeling. During periods of persistently heightened anxiety and attention, we humans tend to experience good things as better, bad things as worse, and sometimes both at the same time. What (and whom) we agree or disagree with become more important and register as more so. Societally speaking, polarized times find moderation squeezed for space.
This week’s Torah portion begins with one of those times for our desert-wandering ancestors. We join their story as they receive instructions for how to enter the Land (Deut. 11:26-30):
| רְאֵ֗ה אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה׃ אֶֽת־הַבְּרָכָ֑ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּשְׁמְע֗וּ אֶל־מִצְוַת֙ יהו׳׳ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ וְהַקְּלָלָ֗ה אִם־לֹ֤א תִשְׁמְעוּ֙ אֶל־מִצְוַת֙ יהו׳׳ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם וְסַרְתֶּ֣ם מִן־הַדֶּ֔רֶךְ אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם לָלֶ֗כֶת אַחֲרֵ֛י אֱלֹהִ֥ים אֲחֵרִ֖ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹֽא־יְדַעְתֶּֽם׃ וְהָיָ֗ה כִּ֤י יְבִֽיאֲךָ֙ יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ אֶל־הָאָ֕רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־אַתָּ֥ה בָא־שָׁ֖מָּה לְרִשְׁתָּ֑הּ וְנָתַתָּ֤ה אֶת־הַבְּרָכָה֙ עַל־הַ֣ר גְּרִזִ֔ים וְאֶת־הַקְּלָלָ֖ה עַל־הַ֥ר עֵיבָֽל׃ | See, this day I set before you blessing and curse – blessing, if you obey the mitzvot of YHVH your God that I enjoin you this day; and curse, if you do not obey the mitzvot of YHVH your God but turn away from the path that I enjoin upon you this day and follow other gods, whom you have not experienced. When YHVH your God brings you into the land that you are about to enter and possess, you will put the blessing at Mount Gerizim and the curse at Mount Eival. |
We’re told later what the “blessing” and “curse” are: portends of good fortune or suffering depending on how our spiritual ancestors behaved and how they chose to live. Us, too.Obedience, and direct consequences for obeying or disobeying, reflect a theology that many moderns left behind long ago. Words like “blessing” and “curse” might fall flat.
At the same time, modern politics, media and community life seem to reflect in spades exactly that kind of polarized thinking: blessing or curse, very good or very bad. We see how some in leadership seek obedience rather than real relationship and diversity of perspective. We see how too often the lure or risk of consequences is wielded to exert control and prod obedience and conformity. Whatever our politics, that’s the nature of polarization.
It’s worth putting ourselves in our ancestors’ shoes – here, literally. Torah instructed our ancestors to put (proclaim) “blessing” on one mountain and put (proclaim) “curse” on another mountain. The two mountains are real places – 3,000-foot hills in today’s West Bank. The valley between them opens at one end into the Judean Desert, while the other leads to the fertile Mediterranean coast. Our ancestors would enter the Land by traversing that valley – not climbing either of the two mountains, but walking between them.
Picture it: You’re walking through a valley finally green after a lifetime of wandering the desert. On each side is a mountain, and from each mountain a sound system fills the air with blessings and curses. Waves of sound echo through the valley. Your body physically vibrates with them. Your mind and heart are clutched by them: a good life, or torment.
That’s then, and also now. Waves of polarization and conflict echo through today’s valley in between. Our bodies and hearts vibrate with the din of it all from “both sides”
The thing is, our ancestors went through the valley: they didn’t climb either mountain. They didn’t associate themselves with what either mountain represented. They took the Middle Pathway between all-good blessing and all-bad curse.
So must we. Yes, some things in modern life truly are much better or much worse than once upon a time. Some things truly are dangerous. Add polarized perspectives, heightened emotions and greater stakes, and increasingly society loses moderation and perspective.
Yet there is a Middle Pathway emotionally and spiritually – and we must see it, help each other see it, and teach ourselves to keep looking for it. It’s not to say “A pox on all sides,” sink to false relativism, water down our morality, or pretend away genuine danger as “not so bad.” Not at all. But unless we find moderation and not get pulled to either mountain so often as these polarizing times make so common, we’re likely to lose the perspective necessary to our resilience. We need a Middle Pathway to keep us from burning out or tuning out – either way, unable to wisely improve the bad and fully cherish the good.
The Middle Pathway opens ahead. We’ll hear all kinds of din from the heights along the way. The only way forward is through.
David Evan Markus 