New York City's earthquake feels like a blessing, not a curse

The subways paused in the tunnels; nevertheless, many people initially thought the earthquake was a passing train. Courtesy of Getty Images

We are not generally supposed to get earthquakes on the East Coast. But on Friday morning, I found myself looking up the bracha, or blessing, for earthquakes: Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, whose power and might fill the world.

Rarely in my life have I felt an internal need to make a blessing or pray over anything. That changed when my apartment in Brooklyn began to shake. “Is that the laundry machine?” I asked my boyfriend. I was hoping that was the correct answer, because otherwise I was concerned our already somewhat crooked apartment might fold entirely.

It was not the laundry. It was an earthquake. A 4.8 magnitude earthquake — nothing damaging, but “significant for the region,” as Gothamist put it. It was certainly the largest earthquake I’ve felt, even though I lived in California for four years.

In Judaism,there’s a blessing for basically everything so it’s not shocking that Judaism has a blessing for earthquakes. But parsing out which of the options is appropriate in any given moment can be sort of complicated. If you’re eating a sandwich, for example, contents depending, are you supposed to use the bread blessing, or the vegetable one, the fruit one or the miscellaneous food one that covers meat or dairy? The bread blessing (HaMotzi) is sort of a catchall — but the wine blessing trumps that so if there’s grape jelly does that change anything? 

But I digress. I don’t bless my food, usually. Which is why it’s so wild that I did feel a need to say something when my apartment began to shake. (Something other than some expletives followed by “was that an earthquake?!” repeatedly, that is.) There’s something about your world getting literally shaken up that strikes something fundamental. It makes us feel, intuitively, the power and might of the world.

Throughout Jewish history, rabbis and sages have largely interpreted earthquakes as a sign of God’s anger or wrath. (Much like eclipses.) And certainly, as in Taiwan last weekend, earthquakes can be destructive and deadly. But while Friday’s earthquake did briefly send me into a panic, it largely inspired awe. (It helps that it didn’t damage anything.) It felt like a gift, not a punishment.

Usually, blessings are meant to remind Jews of God’s presence in everything in the world. Remember, God made this wheat, or these grapes. For me, though, while that model connects me to tradition and community, it doesn’t feel very close to God. The earthquake, meanwhile, worked in reverse: The world reminded me of the power of God. And that was worth blessing.