Dear Friends,
I miss seeing all of your faces
at Romemu and, even though we are blessed at this moment to have technology platforms that allow us to ‘be in the same Zoom’, it isn’t exactly the same. I find myself thinking of social exchange these days kind of like social nourishment or social meals. Just as I would sit in synagogue on Yom Kippur pining for a particular food on a fast day, I am acutely aware of how much I long for the social contact and interactions we share with one another. As the current crisis continues to unfold, I am even more fully appreciative of how other human beings nourish and sustain me. So, I begin with that acknowledgment; I begin with absence and longing, knowing that we are joined by our desire for the very thing that at this moment we must refrain from, but that at moments like this, we most desperately need and crave.
We need one another. At the heart of all community is a yearning for and nourishing by our fellow travelers.
Each year, as Passover arrives,
I remind myself and this beautiful community, that we Jews are not only the People of the Book (though we are that!) but deeply, existentially, essentially, the People of the Door (click
HERE
for a link to my sermon on this topic).
Our liberation from slavery and suffering was born in one courageous event, an event we commemorate each year at our Seders, and that we remember each time we walk through any doorway to any Jewish home. G-d commanded the Israelite slaves, through Moses’ agency, to slaughter a lamb, the most fear and revered of all objects in ancient Egypt, and to publicly demonstrate faith over fear in marking the doors with its’ blood. Such a terrifying test! This demonstration of faith would, we were told, cause the Angel of Death to
pass over
the homes of the faithful Israelites.
Of course, the Passover holiday commemorates that moment. Yet the name ‘Passover’ itself doesn’t refer to our human action but to the Divine response to our victory over paralyzing fear and anxiety. We didn’t pass over. Our role was to wait, in our homes, huddling closely with our immediate family and, at the right moment, in spite of our fearful equivocations, slaughter our fear, allow G-d to
pass over first
, and then,
pass through
the door. From that moment on, every door, on every Jewish home has been a reminder of facing fear, waiting and then passing through- from fear to faith, from past perils to present possibilities, and from paralysis to power. Every door and every mezuzah is leaving mitzrayim, leaving Egypt.
You may have noticed
that over the last few weeks Romemu has not only moved all of our programs to an online platform but we’ve significantly increased the opportunities to pray, learn, and gather together as a community. In one of the new classes we offer, I’ve been teaching from the writings of a great Hasidic master, Rabbi Tzakok Ha’Kohen from Lublin. Each day at 11 AM, we’ve gathered together in a Zoom room to listen to the wisdom of this sage, trying to connect his insights to our current circumstances.
Yesterday morning, my dear Alan Brown joined our call. I’ve known Alan for over 35 years and he is a dear friend. Alan had a horrible accident in 1988 that left him a quadriplegic. After studying a text where Rabbi Tzadok invited all of us to do the work of lifting what is fearful and using it to serve, Alan spoke from his own dark and painful places. He told us that each and every day of his life since the accident has been a struggle to not let fear win. Alan shared that looking at a world now engulfed in its own paralysis, he wanted each of us to remain rooted in faith, in trust, in an unwillingness to let the fear win. To focus on staying connected with our will to live, our desire to be of service and in our unending and unshakable belief that there will be an end. This plague will pass over and we, together, will pass through. A new normal will emerge and we must participate in shaping what that will look like. Thank you, Alan, for your inspired leadership and your profound courage.
I know that it isn’t easy right now. I am with you. We are in this together.
Yesterday was Rosh Hodesh Nisan
, the new moon of liberation. Tradition teaches that this day is a special one, the doorway to the month of miracles, and the march to freedom. This month is the first month of the year, heralding the rebirth of Spring and reminding us of renewal. It is also the day that, according to our tradition, Moses relayed the Paschal Lamb ritual to the Israelite slaves. On the very first day of the month of leaving Egypt, Moses commands the people to prepare to be indoors with what they fear most and to wait.
We also must wait indoors for this to pass over, and then we too shall pass through. And while we wait, let us find ways to connect with one another. Let us find ways to pray and support one another. We can do deep and important spiritual work even as we long for and pine for the moment when the physical community will be reunited.
May the Blessed Source of Life, Love and Healing bring an end to this painful period of illness. We pray for those who are ill and we pray for all of those who are working on the front lines, at great risk to themselves for the sake of their fellow human beings.
May the Blessed Source of Strength give all of us the power to wait and to act for the sake of all who are in need.
May the Blessed Source of Freedom aid us in seeing the hope amidst the despair, the courage amidst the fear as we walk this narrow bridge with one another. Amen.
Shabbat Shalom,
