Comfort in the Rhythm of Life (Cantor Ashkenazy)
As the leaves change colors and fall to the ground, The Byrd’s “Turn! Turn! Turn!” plays on loop in my head. Inspired by the text of the third chapter of Ecclesiastes, we are reminded of the ebb and flow of our universe, as well as our existence. The text also speaks to matters beyond our comprehension; the ways of nature created by God. We can try to prepare ourselves, organize, plan, etcetera, but in the end, there are simply matters over which we have no control. As we read in verse 11, “He (God) has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”
While some may find the text of Ecclesiastes discomforting in its assertion about our lack of control, we can also view it as reassuring. There is always a balancing of nature, a give and take, and that in of itself is something we can rely on. I believe Pete Seeger captured this essence in his interpretation of the text, as the verses of “Turn! Turn! Turn!” are punctuated are with the refrain of the same words. The words represent constant movement, but yet comfort us and ground us in their melodic predictability and repetition.
As the days grow shorter and darker, we enter into the ebb cycle of our seasons. In autumn, we gather the last of our harvests and try to make the most of it, stretching it through our times of need. Ways that are lost on most of us now, like canning and preserving food, were once so critical to our ancestors who faced food insecurity in the winter months. And while it may seem foreign to us now, it is a part of nature; we watch as birds fly south for better living and animals enter into hibernation after much preparation for sustenance in the dearth, until it is time to come out to greet the sun. We pray that we too emerge from the winter to a spring of renewal and rebirth.
This year has been difficult for most of us. Accustomed to the rhythms of our lives, we experienced a disruption to our previous ways of being and living, abrubtly confronted with uncertainty instead. As we learn from Ecclesiastes, no matter what we face now, whether it be good or less than good, it is only temporary.
In the darkness of our lives, we know that it will get better, that light will come; and I think this is where most of us find ourselves right now. Psalm 126:5 reminds us that “those who sow in tears, will reap in joy.” Our time is coming.
Planning in a Pandemic (Rabbi Shalhevet)
November 28, 2020 by nssadmin • Blog • 0 Comments
So, I thought, “let’s get prepared for Chanukah.” You know what though? We can’t in the way we used to. And this has of course become the mantra of our day. We can’t plan for things in the future because we don’t know what the future holds. Where will we be COVID-wise? Where will our social distancing rules and mask-wearing mandates stand? Where will the economy be? Will everyone in my family be healthy? Will we be able to see each other and be near each other?
There are so many questions, that it seems near impossible to plan for something that is two months away.
And yet, do we ever know the future?
Ask anyone whose future changed in a split, unexpected, second. Anyone who won the lotto. Anyone in a devastating accident. Anyone who discovered they or a loved one had a terminal disease. Anyone who passed an entrance exam they didn’t expect to. There is a yiddish saying, “Mann Tracht, Un Gott Lacht,” meaning, “Man plans, and God laughs.” Now, in the seriousness of our current situation, I do not believe that God is laughing, but the point of the saying is that we never really know what to expect from the next month, day, or sometimes, even the next moment.
And yet, the same religion that gave us this handy quote, also urges us to prepare, that is, to plan, for that very unknown future. We are supposed to gather oil for this upcoming holiday of Chanukah. Oil is not quick to make, so we are supposed to begin creating and gathering it long in advance of the holiday with the assumption that it will come and we will be around to celebrate it. We are supposed to plant parsley on Tu B’shevat in order that it should sprout and grow strong enough to harvest for use on Passover, five months or so later. We don’t know for sure that the parsley will take root. We don’t know that it will be ready at exactly the correct time. We don’t even know what Passover will be like and, in ancient days, where we would be when this pilgrimage holiday fell. But we are commanded to prepare anyway – to live “as if.”
And so, in today’s very fragile, shaky, and unpredictable world, we must keep moving forward as if it were a commandment from God. Because it is.
I will plan for Chanukah. I will plan for in-person possibilities. I will plan for virtual possibilities. I will plan for everything I can think of in between. For whatever it is, I will plan. And God may laugh. But that’s ok. God will be laughing with us, not at us. For our perseverance is part of why God chose us. Our stubbornness to continue to plan in the face of dire uncertainty makes God smile, and keeps us alive and around.