Daniel's Window

 Daniel's window (Daniel chapter 6).

Daniel was cast into the lion's den, because he was caught praying toward Jerusalem, after King Darius had prohibited prayers to anyone but himself.

"When Daniel knew that the document had been signed, he went to his house where he had windows in his upper chamber open toward Jerusalem. He got down on his knees three times a day and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as he had done previously."

This is a fascinating passage because, among other things, it is the first mention that the exiles prayed toward Jerusalem, and that they prayed three times a day. However …

What is fascinating to me is how Daniel's life became an open book, because of his open window.

My apartment faces the street and my dog likes to gaze at the street. Consequently, my shades are almost always open. Often, I sit at my computer or television (or both) in that same room. Sometimes (often) I am doing those secular things at the hour of prayer or on Shabbat or one of the sacred days. B'farhesya -בְּפַרְהֶסְיָא - out in the open. I wonder if I am scandalizing my traditionally observant neighbors by doing so.

No one has ever asked me to explain or to justify my actions. Hypocrisy and pretense are among the worst sins. Whether my actions are ultimately praiseworthy or deplorable, I want them to be my own actions based on my convictions and values.

So, those who pass by my window and notice me not behaving as Daniel would may draw their own conclusions. I respect my neighbors, and even Shabbat and Festivals in my own way - as an expression of the culture from which I draw nourishment.

Teshuvah That Makes a Difference

On the coming Day of Atonement, we will read litanies of sins, perhaps every sin imaginable, from Alef to Tav and back again, several times.

I’m not sure how helpful that is for most of us.

Knowing our (school) community as I do, I venture to speculate that the vast majority of the sins we commit are in the category of hurtful speech. Mean, demeaning, deceptive speech let fly in flashes of anger or arrogance are the bulk of our sins and they are truly damaging but, thank God, often reparable.

A five-minute heartfelt conversation for reconciliation or restoration will do more to repair the past than a thousand hours of litanies.

However, as we review the past year, you may find as I do that the most regrettable aspect was not a sin at all. At least not a sin of action. Most regrettable were the possibilities unfulfilled; opportunities wasted; caring withheld; actions that could have brought fulfillment to ourselves, our families, and communities, but remained in the realm of Could-Have-Been.

This Yom Kippur, we can review and consider, and briefly and productively regret the unfulfilled potentials of the past year. Then we can vividly and fruitfully survey the coming year in our minds with its openings for contribution, celebration, achievement, expression, love and fulfillment.

There is a tradition that as soon as Yom Kippur is complete, we drive the first nail to construct our Sukkot. When we have the opportunity to perform a mitzvah, we should rush to do it.

Even so, we can use the hours and days between Yom Kippur and Sukkot to “drive the nails” that will construct our futures. What can we say or do in that possibility-charged week that will move our intentions from the Realm of Dreams to the Domain of Reality?

No regrets! But if we must have regrets, let them be for what we attempted and failed rather than for what we failed to attempt.

Best Wishes,
Love,
G’mar Chatimah Tovah
and then some…

Living in the Time that G-d Forgot

 שמות ב': וַיְהִי֩ בַיָּמִ֨ים הָֽרַבִּ֜ים הָהֵ֗ם וַיָּ֨מָת֙ מֶ֣לֶךְ מִצְרַ֔יִם וַיֵּאָֽנְח֧וּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל מִן־הָֽעֲבֹדָ֖ה וַיִּזְעָ֑קוּ וַתַּ֧עַל שַׁוְעָתָ֛ם אֶל־הָֽאֱ־לֹהִ֖ים מִן־הָֽעֲבֹדָֽה: וַיִּשְׁמַ֥ע אֱ־לֹהִ֖ים אֶת־נַֽאֲקָתָ֑ם וַיִּזְכֹּ֤ר אֱ־לֹהִים֙ אֶת־בְּרִית֔וֹ אֶת־אַבְרָהָ֖ם אֶת־יִצְחָ֥ק וְאֶת־יַֽעֲקֹֽב: וַיַּ֥רְא אֱ־לֹהִ֖ים אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל וַיֵּ֖דַע אֱ־לֹהִֽים:

Exod. 2:(23) Now it came to pass in those many days that the king of Egypt died, and the children of Israel sighed from their labor, and they cried out, and their cry ascended to G-d from the labor. (24) G-d heard their cry, and G-d remembered His covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. (25) And G-d saw the children of Israel, and G-d took notice.

This passage from sefer Shemot / Exodus has always been occasion for a theological puzzle. How could G-d "remember" Israel and its suffering, after so long a period of years (proverbially 400 years)? More important, how could G-d "forget" his suffering children, if "forgetfulness" is implied by "remembering"? Who was administering the world during G-d's long spate of apparent forgetfulness?

Rambam and the medieval Jewish philosophers teach us that the Torah uses phenomenological and metaphorical language. To say that G-d "remembered" is not to say that he literally recalled what was previously forgotten. Rather, G-d's activity in the world was such that, had a human being acted in that way, we would have said, "he remembered." "Remembered" is poetic shorthand for the idea that G-d, after a period of apparent inactivity, undertook manifest redemptive action. *As if* a person had forgotten and then remembered. (The Bible never says G-d "forgot" anyone or anything; though that may have been our mistaken impression from the metaphorical use of the term "remembering.")

So, the theological puzzle is easily solved. The existential problem remains, and remains urgent. How are we to live, in the valleys of life? How are we to live during G-d's seeming absence and forgetfulness? The drama of redemption is not played out in one or even several human lifetimes. It is hard for us, as mortal and temporal creatures, to maintain a long view. Great as it would have been to behold the Exodus and be at the parting of the Sea, if I would have to pay for that privilege by enduring brutal slavery for even one hour, let alone 400 years, I don't think I would have volunteered.

Despite periods of G-d's apparent forgetfulness, Kabbalah teaches us that G-d is continually emanating our world. If it were possible for life’s Author to look away, even for an instant, everything would revert to nothingness. Our world is not like a clay sculpture that is once made and then the sculptor can walk away. It is like a picture on a TV screen that is constantly being redrawn every moment. Pull the plug, and the picture completely disappears.

In the beginning of his book Kedushat Levi, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev taught:

בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱ־לֹהִ֑ים אֵ֥ת הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם וְאֵ֥ת הָאָֽרֶץ׃ (בראשית א', א') הַכְּלָל שֶׁהַבּוֹרֵא בָּרוּךְ הוּא בָּרָא הַכֹּל וְהוּא הַכֹּל וְהַשְׁפָּעָתוֹ אֵינוֹ נִפְסָק מֵעוֹלָם כִּי בְּכָל רֶגַע מַשְׁפִּיעַ שֶׁפַע לִבְרוּאָיו וּלְכָל הָעוֹלָמוֹת...  וְלָכֵן אָנוּ אוֹמְרִים "יוֹצֵר אוֹר וּבוֹרֵא חֹשֶׁךְ". וְלֹא יָצַר אוֹר וּבָרָא חֹשֶׁךְ, רַק "יוֹצֵר" בְּלָשׁוֹן הֹוֶה, כִּי בְּכָל רֶגַע הוּא יוֹצֵר שֶׁבְּכָל רֶגַע הוּא מַשְׁפִּיעַ חַיּוֹת לְכָל חַי וְהַכֹּל מֵאֹתוֹ יִתְבָּרֵךְ וְהוּא שָׁלֵם.

"In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth..." (Genesis 1:1) The principle is that the Creator, blessed be He, created everything and God is everything, perpetually influencing everything without interruption. Every single moment God nourishes creation… For this reason we say [in the morning just following Barekhu, "Praised are You, A-donai:] Who creates light and who creates darkness." We do not say, "...Who created light and who created darkness." Instead we only say, "...Who creates..." in the present tense! For God is creating every moment. Every moment God exudes life to every living creature. Everything is from God, and God is the completeness of all Being." [Lawrence Kushner. The Way Into: Jewish Mystical Tradition (Kindle Locations 239-243). Kindle Edition. Adapted.]

So we return to our question: How are we to live, in the valleys of life? How are we to endure G-d's seeming absence and forgetfulness?

1. We can try to see our lives in the context of a larger frame of reference. You and I as individuals are not the center of the universe or the axis around which the world revolves. We are part of a grand drama that spans a hundred generations. Our task is to be faithful, to repair the world, and to increase the light in it. Whether in the valley or on the peak. Whether we understand the part we are playing or not. Whether we will live to witness the ultimate Redemption, or whether we are called upon to keep the light burning in dark years of bondage and exile.

2. We can draw perspective from the cyclical nature of life and its vastness. The leaf falls from the tree, in what must seem like a terrible tragedy from a leaf's point of view. Yet in the turn of the seasons the tree will revitalize, leaves will appear again, maybe more and better.

3. We can remember that even in the dark valleys, even during G-d's seeming forgetfulness, we live in a world of miracles that are daily with us. Our world is pulsing with vitality. Each of us awoke into a world that we did not make. A world that makes human life possible, though a world that challenges life as well. We have the exalted and sometimes grueling task to be partners in the repair of this world. We can play a part in making the world more light-filled. Through our deeds, we can make the world a place where G-d's presence is felt, welcomed, celebrated and enjoyed. We do not know which mitzvah will be the critical one that will tip the balance, and usher in the day of Redemption, as Zechariah envisioned:

"And there shall be one day which shall be known as the L-rd's, not day, and not night; but it shall come to pass, that at evening time there shall be light… And the L-rd shall be King over all the earth; in that day shall the L-rd be One, and His name one." (Zech. 14:7, 9)

וְהָיָ֣ה יוֹם־אֶחָ֗ד ה֛וּא יִוָּדַ֥ע לַֽה' לֹא־י֣וֹם וְלֹא־לָ֑יְלָה וְהָיָ֥ה לְעֵֽת־עֶ֖רֶב יִֽהְיֶה־אֽוֹר׃ וְהָיָ֧ה ה' לְמֶ֖לֶךְ עַל־כָּל־הָאָ֑רֶץ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַה֗וּא יִֽהְיֶ֧ה ה' אֶחָ֖ד וּשְׁמ֥וֹ אֶחָֽד׃