Posts
Sometimes we meet someone, or learn something, and in the process we are changed. We are not the same person as we were before this encounter. The trajectory of our life has shifted - sometimes subtly, sometimes profoundly.
When someone or something opens our eyes to a reality that has been there all along, thereby providing us with the opportunity to act in response to a human need, some say this is God acting in the world. Whatever our understanding of God might be, we are transformed by such encounters.
Rosh Hashannah is about transformation. It is not just about saying "I'm sorry" and promising to do better (although that's an important start). It's about believing in the possibility of being re-created. The prayer book reminds us, today is the birthday of the world! We are each of us being re-born. We have the potential to change in ways we cannot even imagine. We have the potential to encounter someone or something that blows our mind, that cracks our heart open with wonder or outrage, that makes us a different person than we were before.
In one of the Torah readings traditionally read on Rosh Hashanah, the story is told of Hagar and Ishmael being sent off into the wilderness by Sara and Avraham. Just when Hagar is certain that Ishmael will die, she has an encounter that changes everything. An angel speaks to her, telling her not to be afraid, and to lift up Ishmael and hold him by the hand. And then God opens Hagar's eyes and she sees a well of water.
God does not create a supernatural miracle to save the day - God opens Hagar's eyes to see a well that was there all along. At that point, Hagar is able to take action - she goes and fills the skin with water and gives the water to Ishmael. Human action, responding to human need.
Whether our eyes are opened by an encounter is, paradoxically, something we can develop through practice. As Louis Pasteur is quoted to have said, "Chance favors the prepared mind." We can increase the likelihood of having such encounters if we practice opening our eyes. For me, it is often as simple as scanning the "new books" section of the public library, or listening to younger people talk about a topic I know nothing about.
What might there be, right there in front of you, that you could open your eyes to with a bit of wonder? What will you learn this coming year that might transform you?
One of my teachers used to say, "the world is in desperate need of repair and healing." Our response to that desperate need begins with opening our eyes. It also begins with opening our ears.
Right before God opens Hagar's eyes, the angel says to Hagar: "Fear not, for God has heard the cry of the youth where he is." Rabbinic commentators puzzle over this seemingly redundant phrase, "where he is." It could easily have said simply, "God has heard the cry of the youth." What does it mean that "God has heard the cry of the youth where he is"?
Here is one possibility: Hearing the cry of a person where they are means hearing their story with empathy, not with moralistic judgment. Hearing the cry of a person where they are means hearing their pain with compassion, not with criticism. Hearing the cry of a person where they are means opening our minds and hearts to a reality other than our own, without needing to assert that our reality is morally superior.
Listening to someone where they are requires a willingness to enter the unknown, and we don't know how we may be affected.
May we all open our eyes to encounters with the unknown in the coming year, thus increasing the likelihood that we will hear the cries of others where they are, and be moved to respond.
August 29, 2009
August 16, 2009
Spiritual Housecleaning
In a way, the Jewish High Holidays are about spiritual housecleaning.
Think about it. Much of the focus of the liturgy as well as the many commentaries written to accompany us during the holiday season are about taking stock of who we are and how we behave, and doing an honest self-appraisal of what we need to throw away.
The "tashlich" ceremony of throwing crumbs or pebbles into the water on Rosh Hashanah is a perfect example.
As far as anyone knows tashlich was not instituted by rabbis. Tashlich was something that ordinary people developed hundreds of years ago as a very physical way of showing our intention to throw away those aspects of our behavior and our personality that are no longer serving us well.
Whether you use the term "sin" or not, the concept is the same as it has been for hundreds if not thousands of years.
So we could say that the High Holidays are about spiritual housecleaning. What we experience on the material plane, we can experience on the spiritual plane as well. Just as we can let go of material possessions that are no longer meaningful or valuable to us, so too we can let go of old beliefs and opinions that keep us from seeing reality, that keep us from seeing ourselves and the people around us as we really are.
And of course it's also about letting go of behaviors - behaviors that have become habits, that may no longer be serving our highest visions of who we are and what we are here to do. This letting go necessarily involves a stepping out into the unknown - which means ultimately it's about trust.
In the traditional study of Hebrew scripture, we pay careful attention to the use of language. There is an unusual expression which appears only twice in the entire Torah - both times in the book of Genesis. The expression is "lech lecha," which is usually translated as an emphatic "GO!" - but can also mean "go towards yourself."
The first use of the expression is in our mythic tale of the birth of monotheism, when God says to Abraham: Lech lecha - go out and leave the land of your father and go to a place that I will show you. The only other use of the expression lech lecha in the whole Torah is in one of the readings chanted on Rosh Hashanah, in which once again Abraham is called by God to go out somewhere to a place that God will show him, to a place that he does not yet know.
In both cases the experience is one of being called to MOVE - to move out into the world without knowing one's destination. To do this requires trust. Trust that there is value and ultimate meaning in our striving to evolve spiritually. And trust that this moving outward is simultaneously a movement closer to who we really are.
May the approaching New Year provide us all with renewed energy to hear the call of lech lecha - to keep growing, to keep evolving, to keep moving closer to being who we are really meant to be.
Think about it. Much of the focus of the liturgy as well as the many commentaries written to accompany us during the holiday season are about taking stock of who we are and how we behave, and doing an honest self-appraisal of what we need to throw away.
The "tashlich" ceremony of throwing crumbs or pebbles into the water on Rosh Hashanah is a perfect example.
As far as anyone knows tashlich was not instituted by rabbis. Tashlich was something that ordinary people developed hundreds of years ago as a very physical way of showing our intention to throw away those aspects of our behavior and our personality that are no longer serving us well.
Whether you use the term "sin" or not, the concept is the same as it has been for hundreds if not thousands of years.
So we could say that the High Holidays are about spiritual housecleaning. What we experience on the material plane, we can experience on the spiritual plane as well. Just as we can let go of material possessions that are no longer meaningful or valuable to us, so too we can let go of old beliefs and opinions that keep us from seeing reality, that keep us from seeing ourselves and the people around us as we really are.
And of course it's also about letting go of behaviors - behaviors that have become habits, that may no longer be serving our highest visions of who we are and what we are here to do. This letting go necessarily involves a stepping out into the unknown - which means ultimately it's about trust.
In the traditional study of Hebrew scripture, we pay careful attention to the use of language. There is an unusual expression which appears only twice in the entire Torah - both times in the book of Genesis. The expression is "lech lecha," which is usually translated as an emphatic "GO!" - but can also mean "go towards yourself."
The first use of the expression is in our mythic tale of the birth of monotheism, when God says to Abraham: Lech lecha - go out and leave the land of your father and go to a place that I will show you. The only other use of the expression lech lecha in the whole Torah is in one of the readings chanted on Rosh Hashanah, in which once again Abraham is called by God to go out somewhere to a place that God will show him, to a place that he does not yet know.
In both cases the experience is one of being called to MOVE - to move out into the world without knowing one's destination. To do this requires trust. Trust that there is value and ultimate meaning in our striving to evolve spiritually. And trust that this moving outward is simultaneously a movement closer to who we really are.
May the approaching New Year provide us all with renewed energy to hear the call of lech lecha - to keep growing, to keep evolving, to keep moving closer to being who we are really meant to be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)