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.
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.