Life of Pi, Tzimtzum, and Questioning Redemption

While on the plane to Israel, I watched a fabulous movie: “The Life of Pi”, which is, from what I’ve been told, an excellent screen-rendition of the novel by the same name. The story is of a young man whose family leaves India, bound for Canada upon a Japanese freighter, called the Tsimtsum. When a horrible storm strikes in the middle of the night, everyone is lost at sea except the central character, Pi, and several zoo animals that his father had taken care of India and were being transported to Canada. Pi winds up for weeks at sea on a lifeboat with a few of the animals – most notably, and ultimately, a Bengal tiger, named Richard Parker. And as turns out … the whole story may not have been as I just described but rather an alternative story offered at the end by Pi to insurance investigators of the shipping company trying to understand what happened aboard the ship. And thus, the movie closes with a challenge to us: what kind of world do we operate in? One that we would like to see? One that makes sense to us? One that could only be in the hands of God? One that could only be in our hands?

There are many levels to the movie and the story – far beyond what I can address right here and now. However, there are two ‘takes’ I would like to address:

1. The name of the Japanese freighter: tsimtsum.

2. Four questions asked by Jonah Rank at a thoughtful website called Oholiav.com: http://oholiav.com/2013/03/four-questions-about-the-life-of-pi/.

Of all the names that the author of The Life of Pi could have chosen for the boat: tsimtsum!? Tsimtsum is the idea according to Jewish mysticism (kabbalah) in which God pulled back in order to make room for Creation. By making room for Creation, God opened the door to free-will. Tsimtsum was the result of God creating an empty space, where God’s light could shine but not determine all that would happen there. God removes a bit of God’s self, in order to make room for us. Or here’s the funny part: God pulls back in order to be more present – present through and in us. But we couldn’t be there/here were it not for God’s retraction.

On the website, kabbalahexperience.com, David Sanders uncovered a quote as to how Yann Martel, the author, explained his decision to use the word tsimtsum for the freighter:

“I wanted a representative scoop of religions in the book – Hindu, Christian, Islam. I would have loved to have Pi be a Jew, too, but there are no synagogues in Pondicherry (where the family was from in India). So I chose Tsimtsum as the name of the Japanese cargo boat because, although it sounds Japanese, it is a Hebrew word.”

The writer went on to cite one reviewer of the movie who concluded that the Life of Pi story is set up for us to consider, “ ‘…which version of the world we prefer; the one where we make our own way and suffer through the darkness via self-determination, or the one where we are aided by something larger than ourselves.” Pi himself says that his story will make you believe in God. Here too lies ambiguity—which version of God will you believe in?”

The story of Life of Pi and dare I say, Pesach, is all about ambiguity and even paradox: can we celebrate our freedom while recognizing the dead on the ground in Egypt? Redemption happened but we still working to redeem the world. Is Matza the bread of affliction or of freedom? Are we free today while we still seem to serve other gods? Can we move forward while looking backwards? Did God harden Pharaoh’s heart or was Pharaoh’s heart predisposed to being hardened? If God had promised to take us out of Egypt, why did God wait so long – so we could suffer more? And the ultimate rabbinic paradox (from Pirkei Avot): All is predetermined and free-will is granted.

Tsimtsum is a boat that witnessed destruction, chaos, challenge, and life. Tsimtsum was an act of pre (or pro-) creation that enabled Creation, and therefore us, to happen. Were there not tsimtsum, there would be no story, there would be no Creation, there would be no Exodus. But with tsimtsum, retraction, there is room for everything else: a world that is both creative and determinative, filled with God even with God removed. There is space to expand and space to retract. We live with free-will and predetermination.

According to Pi’s initial and central teaching of his story, God may have predetermined Pi to survive but Pi knows that he only survived because of his self-determination.

To present four questions at the Passover Seder, Jonah Rank (oholiav.com) writes:

1.       Pi describes his story as a tale that would make anyone believe in God. Which part of the tale would lead someone to faith? Pi’s suffering at sea, or Pi’s unlikely salvation and return to land? Is God’s splitting the Sea of Reeds sufficient for our faith as a Jewish people, or did we need to suffer as slaves in Egypt?

2.       Pi tells two tales. In the first, he is pitted against animals, and, in the second, he is pitted against humans. Does a myth hold a stronger truth when it is demystified, or when in its original form? Would you prefer hearing scientific justifications of the Ten Plagues or considering them inexplicable miracles?’

3.       Pi discusses his childhood at length in the beginning. Is understanding someone’s youth essential to understanding that person as an adult? Why does the Torah tell us about baby Moses in the basket in the Nile, growing up and killing an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, and then running off to Midian?

4.       In Pi’s life, was God’s tsimtsum essential to his coming to faith? (I would like to amend the Jonah Rank’s wording to: In Pi’s life, was the freighter named Tsimtsum, essential to Pi’s coming to faith?) In our lives, do we suffer or rejoice – or even believe in – God’s tsimtsum?

During these days of the Omer, we are counting toward Sinai. We have seven weeks, during which we count every day. The days and weeks are all arranged according to the sefirot – the divine emanations of God. We find loving-kindness, discipline, beauty, endurance, splendor, foundation, and sovereignty in loving-kindness, discipline, beauty, endurance, splendor, foundation, and sovereignty. These emanations are the way we experience and feel God in the many facets and places – and palaces – of our lives. Those palaces may be huge freighters, small life boats, mangrove islands or the dry land that provides security.

Pi is on the boat for 227 days. Of all the days the writer could have chosen: the 49^th prime number? The 49^th, which is 7-squared … the number for our counting the Omer – and 7, perhaps the most important number in Jewish tradition? There are two famous expressions using the root – aleph, reish, chaf – in Hebrew. One is a description of God’s attributes: erekh apayim (slow to anger). The other is in connection to our observance of the mitzvot and dedication to our tradition and God: orekh yamim (length of days). Clearly, Pi learns to display the ability to be slow to anger and thus lengthens his own days. His sense of self-contol and determination work closely with God’s intent and God’s (pre) determination. So may ours. Oh, and by the way, what is the gematria of aruch (lengthening or slowing): 227.

Thank you http://besidethebigbend.blogspot.com/search?q=life+of+pi for questioning 227!