There is a great old joke about a guy who is determined to learn the meaning of life from the greatest spiritual authority in the world. He travels thousands of miles, spends a fortune, interviews spiritual leaders of every conceivable tradition and finds no satisfaction. All along the way, he keeps hearing about this one guru who lives in an inaccessible cave high in the Himalayas who is purported to truly know the meaning of life. Our guy is determined to get there. He travels to the Himalayas. He finds a guide who says he knows upon which mountain the guru resides . . . Three mountain treks later, they finally identify the right mountain. They are pinned down to the side of the mountain for two weeks because of blizzards and then finally, finally reach the mouth of the guru's cave.
Our searcher is informed that the guru only steps out of the cave to encounter spiritual searchers on alternating Thursdays . . . And this Tuesday of the "off" week. Finally the great day has arrived, the attendants announce that the guru is about to emerge from the cave and our spiritual seeker dusts off his clothing, slicks down his hair and prepares to learn the meaning of life. He hears a bit of a shuffling noise and a tiny little bald guy wrapped in saffron colored robes comes blinking out into the sunlight. He contemplates his visitor and asks: "My child, what do you seek?" our friend straightens up and responds: "I've searched the world over, explored every spiritual tradition, I am driven to learn what life is...". The guru sits cross-legged on the ground and goes into a trance. Three hours later he opens his eyes and declares: "Life......life is a fountain."
The spiritual seeker stares aghast at the guru and exclaims: "Life is a fountain??!!!?!!?"
The guru focusses on his visitor and asks: "You mean, it's not??!?!?!"
All of that is to say that I don't believe that life is meant to be a fountain, either. I believe that our tradition teaches us that life is a journey.
Our annual cycle of biblically-ordained festivals (Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot) steep us in "journey":
This time next week we will be putting the finishing touches on our family sedars, Passover is upon us. This is, of course, the festival during which the journey begins. We begin the journey feeling the bitterness of slavery as we bring tears to our own eyes by eating the maror/bitter herb. We experience the urgency of the rush from Egypt as we eat the dry, unrisen matzah. We wonder at the miracles of the plagues and join in Psalms of praise to God as we contemplate our gift of self-determination as a people and set off for the uncharted journey through the wilderness.
In seven weeks, we will mark the encampment at Sinai and stand together once again to accept The Torah as God's greatest and most loving gift to us.
In the autumn, we will gather within the trembling walls of the sukkah to experience the vulnerability of our ancestors' journey through the wilderness and acknowledge the same vulnerability as we journey through our own lives.
It's all about the journey: from where do we draw our values and inspiration? To whom do we make and keep commitments? How can we find unconditional love and an eternal source of strength? We are meant to grow in soul as well as in cognitive knowledge and maturity as we make our way through life's journey.
May this Pesah to come next week serve as inspiration for us to keep our hearts and souls moving and growing in our life journeys.
This Shabbat is particularly joyful as we are celebrating Rosh Hodesh Nissan, the first day of the Hebrew month of Nissan. The beginning of every month on the Jewish calendar is observed as a special day, but this particular month holds special significance for us.
Indeed, the first Shabbat of the month of Nissan (whether it is also Rosh Hodesh or not) is celebrated as a special Shabbat . . . it is called "Shabbat HaHodesh" / The Shabbat of THE Month.
THE Month: the best of months, the paragon of months, our favorite month. What is so "THE" about Nissan?
A hint lies in the name itself: ניסן (Nissan) includes the word נס (neis).
Those of you who are dreidl aficionados, may recognize this powerful little word. Remember the letters on the dreidl?
נ = neis / miracle
ג = gadol / great
ה = hayah / was
ש = sham / there
"A great miracle happened there!"
So נס (neis) means "miracle!" And the word נס (neis) is the basis of the name of this month of Nissan.
There are a lot of miracles associated with Nissan . . . we learn in the Torah that this month is also referred to as חודש האביב / hodesh ha'aviv / the month of Spring.
My dear Rabbi, teacher and friend, Rabbi Neil Gillman, recollects a powerful moment he experienced when still a rabbinical student at The Jewish Theological Seminary of America in Manhattan. One spring, student Neil Gillman was walking in Riverside Park with Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (one of modern Judaism's greatest theologians). Suddenly, Rabbi Heschel stopped short, pointed to a tree and declared: "There is God in that tree!"
Understandably, Mr. Gillman was a bit disconcerted and confused, until Rabbi Heschel continued: "look at the buds on that tree, there is God, generating new life right in front of us!"
Hodesh Ha'aviv / Nissan, the month of Spring, is full of miracles for us to savor if we just stop to notice them.
Our month of miracles, ניסן / Nissan, also contains Hag Haheirut / the Festival of Freedom. Passover, of course. There are so many miraculous events involved in our people's redemption of Egyptian slavery: Moses' very survival as an infant was miraculous. Our people's survival as a functioning ethnic community in the face of centuries of slavery was miraculous. The intervention of the Israelite God in the natural order of Egyptian life was miraculous. And, of course, the miracle of miracles: the actual Exodus . . . our redemption from slavery and the splitting of the Sea of Reeds. A miracle so vivid, so awe-inspiring, so breath-taking we revisit it every single day in our liturgy.
No wonder Nissan is referred to as THE month, a month packed with large and small miracles . . . what other month could possibly compete?!?
The Intermediate Shabbat of Passover / Shabbat Chol Hamo'ed Pesach
Torah Reading: Exodus 33:12 - 34:26 & Numbers 28:19 - 28:25
When we gather together for Shabbat and Pesach services tomorrow morning, we will devote a few moments to reading "Shir HaShirim" / The Song of Songs.
Each of the three Pilgrimage Festivals of the Jewish year (Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot) are established in the Jewish calendar in the Torah and are enhanced by the reading of a book from the third section of the Hebrew Bible, The Writings. On Passover we read The Song of Songs (Shir Hashirim), on Shavuot we read the book of Ruth and on Sukkot we read Ecclesiastes (Kohelet). Each of these additional readings relates to some element of the festival it enhances.
Shir Hashirim, the text assigned to Passover, highlights one of the names of this festival: Chag Ha'Aviv . . . the Spring Festival. Much of the imagery in Song of Songs conveys the sights, sounds and colors of spring in the Land of Israel. But there is an even more profound connection between the Song of Songs and Passover.
In the Babylonian Talmud, we have a front row seat as the sages of the late antique period debate the virtues of the book, Song of Songs. Their discussion centers on whether this enchanting text belongs in the official canon of the Hebrew Bible or not. Why is there any question about this? One reason is that the name of God does not appear at all. Another reason is that the book is largely a passionate love poem! Most of the sages were against including this book in the Hebrew Bible. Until Rabbi Akiva spoke up. Rabbi Akiva explained that this is the story of the passionate love between God and Israel and as such should have pride of place in the Hebrew Bible.
So here we are, in the middle of the Festival of Passover . . . the holiday in which we relive that iconic moment that demonstrates God's love for b'nai Yisrael, the children of Israel. The events of Passover, when God saves Israel from Egyptian slavery, has become the iconic moment of God's love for us. How fitting that our celebration of this moment should include the "love poem" of Song of Songs on the Shabbat of Passover.
Parashat Aharei Mot Torah Reading: Leviticus 16:1-18:30
I had a wonderful rabbi when I was a little girl. Rabbi Avraham Soltes was charismatic, passionate about tradition, Jewish music, and Jewish scholarship. I was only aware of some of these qualities when I was a child.
It is only recently that I discovered that he had published a small volume of prayers he had written himself. From my perspective as a rabbi, as well as a young person drawn to Judaism by my rabbi, I am deeply moved by these prayers written by my first spiritual leader.
A traditional name for Passover is "Chag Ha'Aviv", "The Spring Festival." I offer Rabbi Soltes' original prayer "Rebirth" as a Passover gift to you . . . perhaps as a special reading to add to your seder, perhaps as a private meditation that will enrich your own journey into spring.
REBIRTH
O God of the fragrant flower
and the flickering leaf:We call upon Thy Name,
at this renascent season,
when Thy life-giving spiritquickens the silent earth,and our cold, slumbering world
is born anew
in the golden glory
of jonquils an forsythia.
Help us,
the humble denizens
of this earth,
O Lord,
to find rebirth of hope and meaning
in our lives,
at this season,
to see the world with new-born eyes
,to believe deeply
that life and rapture
can begin again
for those whose faith
matches their need.
For
is not this,
O Father,
Thy first commandmentto us,
the Children of Israel:
"I am the Lord,
Thy God,Who brought thee
out of the land of Egypt,
out of the house
of bondage?"
If our fathers,
sunken in the mire of Egyptian slavery
for four hundred years
could find
in Thee,
the strength and the inspiration
to cast off the maiming manacles
that slashed their wrists and ankles
and surge forth to freedom
on that memorable spring night
thirty two hundred years ago,
then, surely,
no creature is so lowly,
no lot so hopeless,
that we cannot,
with Thy help,
find in it
new blessing,
and new cause for adoration.
Open our eyes,
O Lord,
to Thy wondrous works,
that we may discern Thee in our lives
each day,
and behold the world,
each morning,
as fresh
and burgeoning with hope
as it was to Noah and his clan
after weeks of endless storm,
when the sun smiled over the
earth again
in a golden dawn.
Praised be Thou,
O Lord,
who bringest forth
the bread of life
from the dust
of the languid earth.
Amen.
Rabbi Avraham Soltes
Invocation: A Sheaf of Prayers, 1959
Parashat Tzav Torah Reading: Leviticus 6:1-8:36
Think for a moment of an episode in your life that terrified you but from which you survived, overcame, emerged stronger. Do you revisit that moment in your mind? Has that moment become one of those iconic stories of your life that you tell to people who are beginning to get to know you?
In just a few short days, we will join Jews all over the world in re-enacting just such a moment in the life of our people. "Yitziyat mitzrayaim," the Exodus from Egypt, is such a powerful, iconic moment for us that our liturgy brings us back to that moment every single day in the morning recitation of "Shirat haYam," the Song at the Sea, sung by the Israelites at the far bank, the safe bank, of the Sea of Reeds. "Ozi v'zimrat yah," "My Strength is God to whom I sing."
Rabbi Jonathan Wittenberg, a Masorti/Conservative rabbi in Great Britain, writes: All people seek the secret of their own continuity. This is the power of the seder night: it lights up the past as the full moon illumines the path in the forest. The light of where we come from shines into the uncertainty of who we are. For where we come from is always at the heart of who we are, and until we understand the greater journey of our family and people we cannot recognize the direction of our own life.
The Eternal Journey: Meditations on the Jewish Year
The first millennium rabbis who shaped our seder experience through their innovative Haggadah . . . which we read to this very day . . . understood very well the essential role of the Exodus story. They instruct us: "In every generation all of us are obligated to see ourselves as if we left Egypt." The seder night is meant to be more than a recounting of the story . . . it is meant to be a journey to freedom that we take together as a family, as friends, as a community and as a people every year.
It is the story of where we have been and where we are going.
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