Brooklyn’s River of Joy, Sorrow, & Everything in Between

 This season of the year’s turning, I’ve reflected a lot on the changes during 5783 and how to step forward into 5784. Through the contemplative space provided by Malkhut during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I found a place to ground myself, open threads of ongoing reflection, and face forward with resolve. After a short respite, our community rushed head-on into Sukkos, under a deluge of rain that brought floods in Brooklyn and across other boroughs and parts of New York. גשם (geshem) has felt, through this high holiday season and this season in the world, like an apt metaphor for all the elements of rain:

* Cleansing, including exposing hidden difficulties, secret inconsistencies, and drawing attention to areas that need tending and care

* The threat and sometimes actual floods – sometimes slowly, being submerged by a trickling that has been threatening to go over our heads for some time – other times quickly, taking us by surprise as we grasp for air and call for help

* Needed hydration and the ability for nutrients to sustain the earth – the necessary water for survival

* A refreshing shower that makes us feel alive, or perhaps at times mingles with our own tears and reminds us of our connection to our emotions, each other, the earth, and the giver of rain

Whatever rain means to you, the pinnacle of this season, Sukkos, one of the three harvest/pilgrimage festivals, brought new insights, learning, fears, hope, and unknowns this year. These continue to roll in, perhaps on the continuing rain clouds, and I am trying to feel more peaceful in the waiting to see what the rain washes away and what will grow in the place of the old seedlings.

Rooftop sukkah…where my chevrusa & I finished a daf!

Last night in Simkhes Toyre service, I listened as we closed the yearly parshiyot with Devarim/Deuteronomy, the last three verses which declare:

So there didn’t again rise up a prophet in Israel such as Moses, who perceived (and was perceived by) G!d face-to-face, for all the signs and wonders which G!d sent him to do in the land of Egypt (be)for(e) Pharaoh and before all his servants and before (Pharaoh’s) entire land, and for all the strong power and for all the great awe-inspiring deed(s) which Moses enacted before the eyes of all (of the people of) Israel.

Directly from these few verses, we read the beginning verses of Bereshit/Genesis through the end of the first telling of the seven days of creation. The Jewish people go from declaring the unmatched prophecy of Moshe, a relationship declared as the best, unmatchable of G!d’s work through a human, to discussing the act of creation, and a focus on a creator. (Creation and a creator remain central in many religious and philosophical discussions, one of the most foundational and least actually knowable moments in human history.) From Moshe, a created being, who brought the words and signs of the creator to other created beings, we are brought back to a reminder of the world we are gifted to live in and take care of – while remembering how little we know or understand about this world, even with our millenia of learning.

During this holiday season, I had many moments of sitting in awe and contemplation. From pouring my voices of praise, return, repentance, and hope into the music and prayers of community during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur – to sitting in booths under the sunsets and emerging stars, to dodging rain and meeting new friends through celebrations, I felt my questions and fears held and repeated among others – the never-ending pursuit of created beings to create anew, understand, grow, know and be known, and come together in our experience.

The last few years, while bringing joy through community, opportunities, learning – they have been difficult, scary, full of bloodshed and injustices around the world. Each year, including this year, I am left without understanding or words about these ongoing horrors, even as I am able to find some hope through community efforts and human connection. Let’s keep holding each other and finding hope in the small ways, pursuing justice and praying for rain that will make room for the signs and wonders we need in our time.