Avatar Blues

For those of you who have been in a coma for the last couple of months, Avatar is a new movie. It is the most expensive movie ever made and on its way to being the most profitable ever made. Most agree that with its 3D technology, it is without a doubt, one of the most impressive visual masterpieces ever made.

The simple story line takes place in the future: humans are mining precious minerals on a far-away planet, Pandora. The local inhabitants (blue humanoids) live in a magical, beautiful world. Thick jungles, plants and flowers that light up in the dark, and the inhabitants are closely in tune with nature: they respect and protect the environment, mind-meld with animals, and live at one with their planet. Brutal human miners attack to ensure mining rights.

Acknowledging its incredible visuals, many criticisms have been leveled at the film: its plot is simplistic and cliché, almost plagiarized from many other sci-fi thrillers as well as Pocahontas; the military is depicted as brutal destroyers rather than protectors of freedom; Avatar promotes pantheism and paganism, rather than monotheism; Avatar is rabidly anti-capitalist (the money-making company is evil and the socialist natives are good), etc etc.

I’ll leave it up to readers to decide how valid these criticisms are. I was intrigued by something else. There have been several reports in the press lately about the ‘Avatar Blues’. Fans are so enamored by the alien planet that they don’t want the movie to end. And when it does end, some have a hard time re-adjusting to ‘normal life.’ After all, the human experience is full of strife, discord and disappointment. As one fan described in a CNN story on the subject:

"When I woke up this morning after watching Avatar for the first time yesterday, the world seemed ... gray. It was like my whole life, everything I've done and worked for, lost its meaning," Hill wrote on the forum. "It just seems so ... meaningless. I still don't really see any reason to keep ... doing things at all. I live in a dying world."

The reaction is not so surprising. After all, who wouldn’t want to live the Utopian dream, in harmony with nature, each other, and ourselves?

The whole thing reminds me of a passage in the Talmud which states that souls do not want to descend into this world. Why would they? Being ‘up there’ in perfect spirituality is certainly a better place to be that down here, saddled with evil, rampant physicality, jealousy and hate. G-d must force souls to leave the ‘World of Souls’ and enter our reality.

Similarly, I am reminded of the end of Shabbat, which is marked by a certain degree of melancholy. Shabbat is a beautiful weekly respite, allowing for spouses to deepen their bonds, for families to spend time together, and for individuals to step back from the rat race and touch spirituality. So the end of Shabbat is full of mixed emotions – happiness at the closeness and beauty that has been shared, and sadness as the special day departs.

Finally, I think of the afternoon prayer which begins with the words “Ashrei Yoshvei Baisecha”, fortunate is the one who dwells in Your house. It was said by Jews at holiday times as they visited the Holy Temple in Jerusalem – they realized then how lucky the Priests (Cohanim) were, for they dwelled in Jerusalem year round. The rest of us were sad to leave.

All this leads to fundamental questions about life. These are things we should think about, talk about, and discuss with our children and students. Why do we need to “leave” perfection and live difficult lives? Why didn’t G-d leave us in the spiritual world of souls, place us in a utopian Pandora, or allow us to live permanently in Shabbat? Why did G-d force us into a world that is full of hardship?

At an emotional level, we are indeed supposed to crave Shabbat, the spiritual connection of prayer, and the bliss of the upper worlds. Yet we also understand that this is not the time for complete bliss. If G-d thought putting us in Pandora would have been good for us, He would have done so. Our lives are not only about beauty and enjoyment, though our lives are full of them. Life as we know if has difficulties – sometimes great ones – and our job is to fix the world (Tikun Olam) and fix ourselves (Tikun Atzmi).

The world to come, we are taught, will be inestimably greater than the greatest pleasures we can imagine. In this world, in our lives, we were given something even greater than pleasure and harmony with nature. We were given the ability to improve.

We shouldn’t be depressed by the problems of the world. We should be inspired by the Messianic vision of what humans and human civilization can look like – and get to work making it so.

Keeping Our Families Jewish' is a free e-newsletter written by Doron Kornbluth, author of Raising Kids to LOVE Being Jewish. The newsletter is designed to help Jewish parents, grandparents, educators and activists keep Jewish identity strong. To join the list, or contact Doron directly, email doronkornbluth@gmail.com or visit www.doronkornbluth.com.