Next Monday evening, Tuesday and Wednesday is Rosh Chodesh – the new moon. Now, the moon begins to wax again. Being in tune with the Jewish calendar means always being in sync with the phases of the moon. The moon will grow for two weeks. Then we will see it in all its splendor, at its brightest, and it will begin to wane for another two weeks. The next new moon will be Rosh Chodesh Tishrei, also known as Rosh Hashanah.
That’s right, Rosh Hashanah is four weeks from this Wednesday.
For many, this week will be just another week. For others, it is the beginning of a month that can make a difference. For many, it is the start of a special month, a time when small and big projects alike come together, both personally and professionally.
Our tradition teaches us that during this month, we should deepen our spiritual practices, whatever form they may take. This is a month for spiritual preparation, a time when we look back on the year that is now ending.
Who have I been, what have I done since last Tishrei, since the last Rosh Hashanah? What am I proud of, and what am I ashamed of? When was I the best I could be, and when, and how many times, did I fall short? How is my relationship with the world, with people, and with the transcendent these days?
The Torah poses all these questions quite directly in Parashat Re'eh. We are told: see and remember that today I set before you a blessing and a curse; I set before you today the choice between two extremes, opposites. The blessing (bracha) at one end gives you more than you need, while the curse (klala) at the other condemns you to much less than you need.
In life, you always have before you the opportunity to choose. All you need to do is make good decisions.
We are faced with two extremes: blessing and curse. Two opposing poles. There are moments when it is essential to find the balance between these poles, with commitment and moderation. To find the middle ground without giving up the guiding principles of our tradition. Moderation is good when we face desperate situations. Living in community requires commitment. The ability to take the necessary steps to find a middle ground seems like a good thing.
In the times and spaces we inhabit, we face ethical choices all the time. We can stand up for the truth or merely ignore the lies. We can protect human rights and dignity, or we can allow the rights of different groups and minorities to be eroded. We can raise our voices or stay in our comfortable spaces…
On a smaller scale, but no less important, when we judge our neighbors, we can give them the benefit of the doubt or assume the worst in everyone. We can speak to each other or speak about each other. We can be curious and open about what is happening between us, or we can make assumptions. This, too, relates to the paradigm of "blessing or curse" that the Torah gives us, because our relationships can be touched by either.
We can choose to care for one another or say that the needs of others are not our problem. The power to choose does not mean that all choices are equally wise… but we have that power.
“See, I am setting before you today a blessing and a curse: the blessing, if you heed the commandments of the Lord your God that I am giving you today; and the curse, if you do not heed the commandments of the Lord your God, but stray from the way I am commanding you today…” Deuteronomy. 11:26-28.
Each year, including this one, so difficult for our People, we read these verses right before the beginning of the month of Elul. The new year begins in just five weeks, and yet we cannot yet focus on new beginnings and existential choices.
If, over the next four weeks, we dedicate ourselves to this journey of introspection and discernment, reviewing where we lost our way and where we advanced wisely and assertively; if we do so by reviving the spiritual practices we have chosen to connect with ourselves and with what is beyond us, when we reach Rosh Hashanah, we will experience these days of prayer in a different way.
The stars are there every night, but we can only see them when there are no clouds, and when the moon has waned, when we allow ourselves time to see them. In the same way, the opportunity to do the work of teshuva, repentance and return, is there all year long, but some seasons of the year offer us special opportunities to see ourselves in, through, and with a new light.
Tonight, if we step outside our homes, out into the countryside, if our eyes slowly adjust to the darkness and then we look up to the sky, we will see small lights. These are the lights we don’t usually notice, dazzled by the lights closer to us.
Similarly, we live dazzled by daily concerns, some surely important, others perhaps not so much. Elul is the time to “go out to the field,” to leave aside all that dazzles us so we can see within ourselves and within those around us those small lights that, like the stars, if we got closer or allowed some of their warmth to reach us, we would feel a different and welcoming sense of well-being.
The month of Elul begins, an acronym for Ani Ledodi Vedodi Li, "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."
Today begins a time, a season of the year to open our hearts, our minds, and our souls to start a challenging path of introspection, discernment, reconciliation, and transformation, to be all we want to be, for ourselves and for our loved ones.
Let’s not miss the chance to do it, even in the midst of the whirlwind of this world filled with baseless hatred, ignorant misunderstanding, violence, and injustice… or precisely because of the fact that we live in such a world, to have the privilege of making our lives better lives and our world a better world. Just Tikun Olam.
Shabbat Shalom ve Chodesh Tov, and may we achieve a meaningful Teshuva.
Rabbi Gustavo Geier
Comments