Miryam's Space

“Who are you?” Isaac asks of his son, Jacob. The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands….  But then Isaac doesn’t listen to the voice, doesn’t hear his son. Who are we?  do we listen to our own voice, to the voice of others, really listen? what defines us? In this Torah portion a mother commands her son to listen to my voice
and her son does listen, dressing in his brother’s clothes. Sense of smell and touch combine to conquer the sound of a voice, and deception results.

So often it is the sound of something that moves us most – of melody, harmony and rhythm of music, or the primal, intense cry of a voice in pain or awe or fear or love, that can speak most powerfully to us. The Torah is chanted, not read because the voice of  melody speaks louder than words.  There are many interesting voices and melodies for characters in the drama of Isaac, Rebecca, Jacob and Esav in musical notation symbolized near each word of the drama.  In the introduction to this portion, both mother Rebecca  and Esav, the hunter-child are sung in the lonely chant of 5 descending notes -perhaps indicating a stand-alone leader. Isaac, whose name means laughter, finally laughs, or plays, in this portion (with his wife!) His tune is a linking, circular melody. Jacob’s melodies are a mix, but gains the leadership melody after trickery helps him to gain the birthright. Esav is attuned to his hunger and fatigue, sacrificing to those passions, unable to hear what he’s giving away. We hear his voice  of anguish when his blessing’s been stolen. Listen to my voice, says Mother Rivka, I will take your curse upon myself , but perhaps it is Jacob that bears the curses, the karma of the deception in his life. Why is this my life- lama zeh anochi? cries out the voice of Rivka to God, when the pain in her pregnancy cues her in to the battling of her twins in the womb. So many voices for us to listen to here, and in our own lives. They will help us to figure out the answer to Isaac’s question: who are you, my son?  A beautiful song about listening to who we really are by Todd Herzog toddherzog.com  is called Listen Close It links listening to finding who you really are.

Listen close to the whispers, they will help you to remember, who you are and who you came here to be.

Listen close and you will hear Me, in your heart I’m always with you,

In the silence I’m the only voice you’ll hear.

The routines resumed this week and last after the hurricane at both of the schools where I teach   But it was not routine, it  felt changed, and charged with emotion. One emotion I think we all shared was gratefulness to be back together, and to learning and teaching. At the community college, in each all and class: “How did you fare? and your family?” was shared by all. After the extraordinary, an enormous need to reach out to those who share our lives, and shared this experience. For all there was a powerful drive to be of some help in the face of disruption. I have never been moved to offer my home to any student if they had no place to sleep before, but I did last week. I heard stories of lives swept to the waves, and homes filled with mud, and waters sweeping over the hoods of trucks of fleeing people. Teens and adults volunteering to tear down saturated sheet rock, and tend tos the elderly in shelters.

I also had the privilege of connecting with children in the Hebrew school I where I teach.  I’d seen many of them cooking pasta for or sorting donations and bringing them to shelters and distribution centers the previous week when school was closed. They’d been in the midst of powerful change and responded with empathy and with action. They all had stories to tell one another about their experiences, and their neighbors. The tree that came through the living room, the cafeteria aid who died when a tree hit her car, the friend living in a hotel because their home was gone. They’d all been affected, and were reaching out to communicate with one another. You could feel a strong cohesion of share emotion and experience and clarity. So while gathered in our assembly I led them in this song, explaining that by reaching out to one another at this time they were praying, healing, giving, and forming a holy community, Kehilah kedoshah in Hebrew. The lyrics come from the Torah portion Netzavim, which begins  Atem N’tzavim: “You are all standing here this day” all of us then and now, remembering that dream at Sinai, the forming of a holy community. We recreate that community by our actions of love and caring:

I began with this beautiful center of the song

It’s how we help, It’s how we give, It’s how we pray, it’s how we heal, it’s how we live.

If you are Atem, then we’re Netzavim, we stand here today, and remember the dream…Kehilah kedosha

Each one of us must play a part, each one of us heed the call, each one of us must seek the truth, each one of us is a part of it all, each on of us must remember the pain, each one of us must find the joy, each one of us EACH ONE OF US…Kehilah Kedoshah

Song by Dan Nichols http://www.myspace.com/dannicholsandeighteen/music/songs/kehillah-kedoshah-74119342

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious, it is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe is as good as dead…Albert Einstein

When was the last time you paused to/in wonder how something works? There is this thirst to pierce the darkness and to connect our souls to other parts of the universe:…the sunrise, a hiccup, a leaf…. I know for sure that this thirst to understand is the key to effective teaching and learning. For a teacher to spark this wonder in a student is a deep form of communication. So the young and beautiful Rebecca/ Rivka, (whose name may translate to snare) is tested for her compassion at the well. Abe’s servant is searching for a wife for Isaac, a shiddach. He asks for a drink from the water she’s carried from the well. It’s easy to have compassion for a thirsty man, or just as easy to be self absorbed, and walk on by. Rivka gives him water to drink. It’s hard to have compassion for the camels he travels with: camels can be nasty, not easy to love. But Rivka gives of herself, and life giving water, as much as they are thirsty for. Here’s a thought: in our tradition, as a people of the book, maybe that thirst is symbolic of a search for knowledge, and Rivka is willing to go to the well and dig deeply into questions and knowledge. Maybe to ask more, to respond to that thirst for knowledge.  Soon in this story Rivka makes the executive decision to leave the familiar and to join Abraham’s family in his quest for spiritual One-ness and ethics. What informs her decision, why leave the familiar? I’m no sure, but there must be some hunger or thirst within her, maybe to know more of the world. Rivka then becomes the connection between the generations, a prophetess, who asks God why: lamah zeh anochi? why do I exist, and is given insight into her unborn sons’ futures. Yes Rivka is compassionate, but compassion takes enough imagination to span the distance between souls, as well as the love to respond to the thirst you find within another. So compassion and the passion to know about the world are linked, and both give meaning to our lives…

I imagine Rivka, the compassionate one, wondering at sunrises of new vistas  during her journey to Canaan. Perhaps she’s dazzled by encountering her fate, when she falls off her camel (falls in love at first site?) seeing Isaac at sunset. I do know this is a beautiful tale of compassion, journey and love. I love this song about awareness of the wonders in life leading to gratitude: Tov’ L’hodot by Todd Herzog.  Track 11 at http://toddherzog.com/  click the play button. Tov l’hodot means “it’s good to give thanks. An excerpt:

…In the mist of all the chaos and the strife, I must learn to count the blessings in my life…

..Sunset on the mountain, a distant melody, the freedom that I have to choose my way.
A newfound revelation, a different way to see, now Your kindness warms me in the morning light, and I am shielded from the darkness of the night

Tov L’hodot, I won’t take this things for granted, Tov L’hodot, now I see the world anew.

Tov L’hodot, friends and family bring laughter to my soul, but my life would have no meaning without You. 

The world around me opens up and lets me in, like a mystery I finally understand. So I raise up my voice and sing out to the sky when I realize how fortunate I am….

May our search be for insights to the wonders of our world!

November 2^nd, 2012 – Insight following the blackout of hurricane Sandy: I cannot complain, it’s been a series of  Shabbat-like days: no alarm clock, time for music, reading and playing board games. But it gets really dark really early. This morning, a new insight: the morning blessing Yotzeir ohr –which recognizes God as the fashioner light, (of the sky and of the soul?), is so much more powerful when the darkness is more complete – that a candle can just barely push it away a little. The fall of night is more powerful, that you become more keenly aware of the blessing of daylight. But it always bothered me that the Yotzeir included God as the creator of darkness, because darkness IS the absence of light. But to know that in the darkness is goodness, that God’s there too, is beautiful. There is plenty of God in the dark, but it takes a little faith that it’s there, though you might not be able to see it.

This idea of finding faith is strong in this week’s Torah portion, Vayera (an overwhelmingly rich portion!)

It contains messages in the anxiously awaited births, of two kids:  Ishmael, God will hear  and Yitzchak, Isaac a child named laughter.  I think all children should be named laughter!  Ironically we only know that Isaac/Yitzchak’s parents laugh.,We never hear Isaac laugh, and he will have reason to scream soon enough…

Our entire future depends upon those kids, and Abraham knows this very well. Though he and Sarah are barren, their son’s–existence was foretold to Abraham by God, as was both sons’ survival – Abraham was going to have descendants, as many as the sands and the stars. But Abraham is a skeptic, as am I, unfortunately, not in the existence of God, but that the future will be OK, bitachon. This is my deepest challenge, how do you handle these doubts that things will be OK even in the midst of powerful challenges to our future…?

So Abraham lacks Faith in the future. He falls down laughing when told he and Sarah will have a son  Abraham once again fears for his life due to Sarah’s overwhelming beauty – he feels threatened by her beauty, Sarah keeps that faith, perhaps. Abraham asks her: tell them you’re my sister, they’ll kill me to have you if you tell them you’re my wife!  And she agrees. Perhaps Abraham lacks faith that God’s nature is Goodness and righteousness: When Abe argues for the future of the people of Sodom perhaps he asks ha-shofet kol ha-aretz lo ya-aseh mishpat Will not the judge of all the earth do what is right? ( the question mark is never placed in the Torah, no punctuation) He doesn’t know: so Abe asks. The answer he receives is that the whole city would be saved for the sake of ten righteous people. After these things, Sarah cries for Hagar and Ishmael to be sent away – set free (Hagar’s a slave)? or sent to die in the desert? Abraham is afraid for the future of his son, and seeks God’s counsel. Have faith, says God,  the boy will be well. So Abraham gets up early to send off his son and the boy’s mother with a single skin of water. Soon Abe is put to a test, the infamous binding of Isaac. He rises early to this task as well. Perhaps the test is whether Abe will once again argue for right as he did at S’dom, or for his son’s life, as he did with Ishmael, and in that case Abe fails God’s test. Or perhaps, Abraham finally has the faith of Bitachon, that the prophesy that he’d have descendants can be trusted, that the judge of all the earth does righteousness, and will not allow murder. (But it does still leaves the unanswerable: would a righteous God test by asking for murder? Perhaps Abraham’s just gotten the message wrong)

The survival of both Isaac/ laughter and Ishmael, relies on God’s power power to lift his parents’ eyes, so life is renewed   Hagar lifts her eyes when God hears (!) Ishmael’s cry so she can see the well of water before her. Abraham’s eyes are lifted to be able to see a mountain, and a ram caught in the thicket. S This rebirth is paralleled in this incredible story from the Haftarah.  There is a great woman who is barren. The prophet Elisha, whom she recognizes as a man of God often passes through on his journey, and she puts him up as a guest in her home. The woman decides to build for Elisha his own room on her roof, with a bed, table and lamp. Elisha then prophesizes that this woman will bear a son, and she is skeptical, wanting to know that all will be OK. And she does bear a son. But one day the son goes to his father in the field and is struck with a blinding headache and falls unconscious, presumed dead!. The mother places her son on the prophet’s bed and runs to speak to Elisha. You have responsibility for my son’s life, you told me the future would be OK!  Elisha must agree, for he then hurries to give CPR to this boy, resulting in this miracle in the middle of the day, behind closed doors, the boy sneezes and opens his eyes to re-life. Faith that life is a miracle, and we can be reborn each day as the sunlight animates our world each day.

There is this  wonderful song by Alan Goodis, which captures so much of these feelings of doubt, faith, rebirth and God as the power to lift our eyes to hope and life: It’s a setting of  Esa einai – which means: I lift my eyes to the heavens, where will my help come from, my help will come from God, maker of heaven and earth. Usually it is up to us to lift our own eyes, windows to our souls This setting was written following the death of a friend of Goodis’ and his personal journey which follows.

I look up, You’re not there, I’m not ready, I’m not prepared,

I need strength to climb, I reach but still I find, that I’m weak and I’m scared

Esah einai el he-harim, me-ayin yavo ezri

I need rest, I can’t sleep, awake and still I grieve, so if I fall out of reach, don’t let me be…

Where is my joy when the world goes dark? Where is my faith when I am torn apart?

Where is my strength till  the pain subsides? Where is the light till I can realize?

Let rest be upon me, Let peace be with me ..tonight…

My help will come from the One, who made heaven and earth…

Change is hard, even change for the better. The saga of Abraham and Sarah is one of metamorphosis. One of the most metamorphic events in my life was the one that made me “mommy”. That was hard: oy! labor and delivery! G8d was in the room that day as I looked into my newborn’s surprisingly big eyes, and was moved to a pact of love.  I did not know what lay in store for us, and I knew the road ahead was fraught with danger, she was so vulnerable, and I so inadequate. But ahead we went to the life that would unfold. Ironically it is barrenness that besets Abram and Sarai,  (for those are their tadpole names) and perhaps catalyzes the start of their journey to change. Abram and Sarai leave wealth, comfort, familiarity to the call Lech L’chah, and L’chi Lach to become the mavericks they must be.  To leave: father’s home, birthplace and homeland.  But if G8d is everywhere, why a new place?…

A story of the seer of Lublin, who would one day become a great teacher. As a boy he was in the habit of going to the woods for hours at a time. So one day his father asked him why he went. “I am going to find God” replied the boy. Said the father: “My son, that’s beautiful, but don’t you know God is the same everywhere?”  “Yes,” said the boy, “but I’m not.”  So Abram and Sarai must go to a place they can find God.

A folktale from our tradition, adapted from Penninah Schram’s Stories One Generation Tells Another, is an fascinating parallel to this Torah tale.    Once in a small town in Eastern Europe lived a couple who had almost everything.  Abram and Sarah were wealthy, generous and wise. Everywhere they gave tzedakah, assisting the poor in their town, generous to a fault. And yet they could not conceive children. Sarah went to the Rabbi to ask what could be done. Listen and do just as I say. You shall host a feast for all the hungry of the town, and set the least of your guests at the head of the table. So, as the Rabbi had instructed they prepared a fabulous feast for the poor of the town. While serving, a ragged man approached Abram and asked to be seated at the head of the table. Disgusted at the beggars filth Abram rebuffed him, and showed him to a crowded table with others like him. The beggar insisted Take me to your wife, I have an important message. When he was brought to Sarah he informed her You did not follow the Rabbi’s directions! Because you have offered food, you shall conceive, but the child you bear will be in the form of a snake! Sarah realized then that the beggar was none other than Elijah, and wept at her fate. Abram comforted her saying Do not worry, this will be our child, and we will take care of him. And Sarah was comforted. Indeed when her time to give birth arrived, a snake was born to Sarah. The midwife cried in fear and ran. But the snake/child was always kind and they cared for him, taught him and brought him up as their own. When the snake/child reached the age of 13 years, he asked  for a tallit and kippah, and for his turn to teach at the synagogue. After consulting with the Rabbi, the couple relented, though some fled from the synagogue. After this day, the snake would often disappear into the woods for hours at a time, and the couple trembled in fear for his safety, for they loved their child, but he always returned.  One day the snake/child approached his father saying Father, I am of age, and it is time to arrange a shiddach so I may enter into marriage. Abram was beside himself! But he went to the Rabbi, who said: Listen and do exactly as I say: travel to the neighboring town, and there find the house of the poorest hermit who lives in the wood. Ask to be his guest for Shabbat. Though strange things may pass, ask no questions. So, the couple traveled, and when they asked, townspeople directed them to a poor hovel outside of the town. A poor, bedraggled hermit answered the knock on the door. Please, sir, may we spend Shabbat with you? When the hermit replied that he had no food to share, and no beds for guests the couple responded Do not worry, we will sleep on the floor, and we will buy enough food for us all to share. And so the hermit agreed, and prepared a Sabbath meal. The couple noticed that the hermit prepared eight meals for the evening, set three on the table and brought five into a back room. But, heeding the instruction of the Rabbi, they asked no questions. The same odd pattern repeated during the morning and afternoon meals, with five meals brought to the back room. Unable to control their curiosity any more Abram exclaimed: Tell us, to whom are you bringing these meals? They insisted in spite of the hermits hesitation, until he admitted: I have five daughters but all are in rags, for I cannot afford clothes for them. Abram and Sarah were delighted: Bring them out, we will buy clothes for them all!  And as the daughters came out, each beautiful maiden was asked if they would agree to marry the couple’s son. The four oldest declined, but the youngest agreed, so desperate was she to escape her poverty. Nervously, they brought the maiden home, afraid she’d change her mind upon seeing their son. While she waited in the couple’s home, a snake slithered into her room, and before she had a chance to be surprised, he shed his skin and transformed into a handsome young man, saying Do not be afraid, and tell no one of my words, but know that everything will work out fine if you agree to be my bride. The young woman agreed, and so the wedding date was set. Nervously the couple arranged for the ceremony and celebration, and were delighted to see not a snake but a human son wearing the talit they had given him under the wedding canopy. Hugging their son, he explained: After you gave me the talit, I would go each day into the woods to study with Elijah the prophet, I have learned so much! And the couple lived happily for the rest of their days.

The saga of Abram and Sarai in Torah is one of enslavement to old ways, and of change: they first leave their home, to travel to the place that God will show them. Though they physically move, still they are  in old patterns, lacking faith that God is with them and that their future will be secure. Slavery is foretold in Abram’s vision, and echoed in Sarai’s slave Hagar, and in Sarai’s capture by Pharoah. But the brit, covenant, of circumcision accompanies a new name, a metamorphosis of spirit perhaps of Abraham and Sarah, and finally a son, named for laughter, Yitschak, is born – and yet another metamorphosis. But we, and are children are born all instinct and animal, like the snake/son. Though birth is a transformation, we must journey more to find our true selves, to reveal the mentsch (good human) behind the animal. Lech L’chah literally means go for yourself, Lechi Lach , the feminine form, means go TO yourself. Could it be that the real purpose of the journeys and the metamorphosis is to uncover our authentic self – so the snake can shed its skin to reveal the person hiding within?!

We all need a catalyst for even the most favorable change is hard, getting started is the hardest thing. Routine breeds routine, and we become enslaved in old ways. In the excerpt of Leah Goldberg’s poem below, a prayer for openness to learning. Perhaps this openness, and learning is what’s needed for change But why does the poet pray for renewal of God’s days, not our human days? That must be our job: to learn and be open to change.

Teach me oh God a blessing, a prayer, on the mystery of a withered leaf,  On ripened fruit so fair, on the freedom to see, to sense, to breathe, to know,… to hope, ….to despair…Teach my lips a blessing, a hymn of praise, as each morning and night You renew Your days, lest my day be as the one before, lest routine set my ways            Leah Goldberg

Rainbows are amazing things.  A scattering of light, a blast of joy and color. What’s great about rainbows is they reveal what was always there – because white light contains all those wavelengths, hidden, waiting to come out. All you need’s a prism – something that touches the light at a good angle, with the power to uncover the beauty within. The same phenomenon can work with our soul’s light, and those inspirations in our life can touch us as a prism does. We all have that beauty as potential, after all we are b’tzelem Elohim -in God’s image. The trick is to open up enough to be changed. Maybe by music, or love, an event, a natural wonder…to be touched, to be liberated. And the rainbow’s impact is so much more powerful if it’s been dark for awhile. The other trick is to look for rainbows hidden in what’s around us.

In Parashat Noach, the world is drowning in darkness: the thoughts of people’s hearts are evil all the long day. A world of slaughter. It is out of this darkness that Noach sees rainbows, perhaps first in the eyes of his wife Na-amah, or his sons. In Greek myth Iris is the goddess of rainbows, also a messenger goddess. Iris: we name the uniquely colorful part of our eye for her – there are rainbows in our eyes, because that spark, b’tzelem Elohim is there. Iris is a messenger: malach, in Hebrew which is also Angel. So maybe it’s the messengers of our lives that can be our prism.
The rainbow becomes the sign of the Promise, the covenant, eternal hope in the sparkle of the sky, the sparkle in our eyes. Look for the Rainbow – it’s there, just hidden.

Debbie Friedman z”l wrote the Rainbow Covenant song, a melody I still use when I see a rainbow.

What’s in a rainbow that makes it so magical, linking the present with promises of old?

Eyes seeking color, hearts stretching far beyond the heavens,

Dreams not forgotten, memories of unfold

Where there’s a rainbow, we thank the Holy One, thinking of promises made long ago.

So when we thank you and think of your miracles, we know that the rainbow’s a promise we make too.

Baruch Atah Adonai Elohenu, melech ha-olam, zocher ha-brit, v’neeman b’vrito, v’kayam b’ma-amaro

(Adonai our God, Source of our blessings, Ruler of the Universe, you remember and are faithful to the B’rit, and the eternal promise to creation.)

I know I have to uphold my part of this sacred covenant, to do what I can, that life endures, by caring, loving, protecting,  My soul’s rainbow binds me powerfully to this promise. ..and God, please bless the prisms! and one more thing:

If Noah hadn’t saved all those animals on the teva, Kermit could never have sung that classic song: Why are there so many songs about rainbows and what’s on the other side? Rainbows are visions but only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide…. what’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing, and what do we think we might see? Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me. All of us under its spell, we know that it’s probably magic! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSFLZ-MzIhM

Baruch She-amar v’haya ha-olam God spoke, and the world existed. (morning liturgy)

“B’reishit bara Elohim et hashamayim v’et ha’aretz” (Genesis 1:1) With beginnings God created the heavens and the earth.

So after all the celebrations, we begin again with Creation. And God said, Let there be light! and there was light… it was good!   What a powerful, puzzling statement: with words begins the universe? How is that even possible, and what language could that be – so powerfully creative?
Five possibilities in this post.

First possibility: the words are mathematics: e=mc²or f=ma or pv=nrt…. the language of the universe’s physical laws, upon which so many things stem. These are laws of relationship, how one part of the universe is connected to another. For example according to e=mc² matter is actually energy, congealed, related somehow to the speed of light, (which is also, somehow, a cosmic speed limit). Relationships are also part of the essence of Torah: linking you and me to the universe, and to  God, it’s creative power, linking  human beings to the natural world, linking family members, friends, enemies, nations. Math and Torah: both exist in relationships, the spaces in between, it’s where creation happens.

Second possibility: Could the language of God be Hebrew letters? R. Douglas Goldhammer, Skokie Ill, wrote a wonderful Kabbalistic vision of the language of God this week in Ten Minutes of Torah http://urj.org/learning/torah/ he writes: …imagine God sitting in front of a cosmic typewriter, punching the keys of the different letters of the Hebrew alphabet and watching the world come into being. God punched in the word adamah and the earth was formed. When the earth was formed, it was made up not only of molecules, atoms, and quarks, but also of the Hebrew letters that make up the word adamah. The ground, or the earth, was made up of infinitely small alefs, dalets, mems, and heis. Remove these constituent letters and everything comes tumbling down….. Each one of these Hebrew letters has a different cosmic energy force that God used to create the earth and its moveable parts. Poetry or anthropomorphism? and why Hebrew? AH, why indeed! Hebrew letters are also numbers, as all fans of gematria know. (Gematria takes the numerical value of words, and finds deep insights connecting these numbers to the concepts of the word) Each word has a numerical as well as symbolic and aural meaning. What better language than Hebrew to have the power of creation: the symbolism of ideas, the sounds of our hearts, and the mathematics all rolled into one language! Pure poetry, and creatively powerful. And upon what parchment is this language written? We know now that space is not empty, that the lowest energy state of space is a Higgs field, which gives photons mass as they interact with the field, zooming around at the speed of light! Perhaps it is upon this creative background on which God “typed” instructions!

Third possibility: maybe the language of God is light itself, or life itself.  An excerpt from Beth Schafer’s The Word bethschafer.com

When all was dark and there was nothing
From out of the darkness there was the word
And when all was still on the verge of creation
From out of the stillness there came the word
Chorus
   You are The Word, the first and the last
    Baruch she’amar v’haya ha’olam
    You are The Word, through Your lips life would pass
    Baruch she’amar v’haya ha’olam
A word to set the world in motion
A word to bring on the light
Let all hear with awe and devotion
That the language of God is life, is life

When it is dark and I can’t find my being
I reach in the darkness for Your word
And when I am still on the verge of creation
I search in my stillness for the right word…

As a composer, Beth  sings well of the struggle to create with words. You can create: weave a feeling, a concept, into  true communication, but only if you find the words that work!  Funny thing is I always thought the lyric here was: “the language of God is light” because light was first into the darkness, and so symbolic of inspiration itself, and perhaps because the photon which carries the energy of light is so fundamental. But our own existence is only through the magic of mysterious LIFE, another existence in relationships, more than the sum of the body’s parts is our life, and our Nefesh/soul.

A fourth, and fun possibility, maybe the language of God is MUSIC! Music is also one of those magical things which is more than the sum of its parts. It’s fun to imagine a world whose basic construction is sixteenth notes, or chords. It’s not impossible, because music itself is based upon the mathematics of wavelengths, and rhythms, timing and melody, and those relationships which we call harmony. I would not be surprised to see music woven into the fabric of existence itself

Final possibility: Perhaps the language of God is Love, After all, the story of the first earthlings, Adam and Chava is a part of this first portion too. And Love,  just as math and Torah and music, exists in the spaces in between, in relationship, as more than the some of its parts: it is creative.  This telling  is adapted from R. Ed Feinstein’s Capture the Moon. It’s called Paradise– and it’s the first love story.

From the day Adam and Eve were exiled from the Garden of Eden, they lived together east of Eden, tilling the earth and raising kids, struggling just to stay alive. After many years, when their kids were grown Adam and Eve decided to take a journey before it was too late, to see the world that God created. They traveled the world, exploring it’s wonders…standing on mountain peaks, trekking across vast deserts, and amidst the trees of the forests, watching the sun rise over the ocean, experiencing creation.  In their travels they came upon a place that seemed really familiar… the Garden of Eden, from which they’d been exiled. The garden was now guarded by a scary angel with a flaming sword. Scared, they ran away.

Suddenly they heard God’s gentle voice “My children, you have lived in exile all these many years. Your punishment is paid, come now, return to my garden, come home…and suddenly, the scarey angel disappeared. The path into the garden was before them.. but Adam had spent many years in the world, he was skeptical, he asked God: remind me again, please, what is it like in the garden?   why it’s Paradise! God responds, you never have to work or struggle again, no pain, no suffering, no death, no time… no yesterday or tomorrow, only an endless now… come my children, home to the garden!  Adam considered God’s words, a life with no work, pain, time or death.. a life of ease. Then he turned and looked at Eve, his wife, into the face of the woman with whom he had struggled to make a life, to take food from the earth, to raise children, to build a home… He read in lines of her face the sorrows they’d overcome and the joys as well, all the laughter and tears.  Eve looked into Adam’s face and remembered joys and sorrows, of birthing children, and of death intruding too. Eve took Adam’s hand in hers… they looked into each others eyes, “no thank you, that’s not for us now, we don’t need that now” they said, They turned their back on paradise and walked home.

So maybe it’s love that is still creating the world.

All my thoughts have been drawn to water lately.

Ushavtem mayim b’sason mimayney hayeshua
Mayim, Mayim, Mayim, Mayim…

Why is it that at occasions of joy we sing and dance and shout about water? This song is from Isaiah – You shall draw water in joy from wells of salvation! Water is life, in so many ways, from tears of sadness or joy to the amniotic fluid or the parted sea from which we were born.  In the desert wilderness, especially. In a few days, the Amidah will change from the blessing of tal, the dew, to that for geshem, the rain and wind. Next week we read about the separation of waters in creation, and the following week about the terrifying, cleansing floods of Noah. It has been our wisdom to be mindful of water.

Some post-Yom Kippur thoughts. There are some things I really loved about the journey of Yom Kippur – the soul searching, the hugs, and singing my heart out. But I fear the dehydration my body endures,  it makes me really appreciate WATER. Awareness of water: we are mainly composed of water, it flows through us and dissolves things and pulses within our veins. Beyond our bodies, planet Earth is really the water planet – but only because of our miraculous “Goldilocks” location in the solar system: situated perfectly in distance from the sun so that our oceans neither boil off, nor freeze solid, it is water which keeps the temperature of our planet habitable. Water can do all these great feats because it is electrically polarized, statically sticky, weird. Also, and my Hebrew name is Miriam, containing yam, sea, within. Miriam is legendary not only for saving her brother from the Nile, and singing our freedom across the sea of Reeds, but while she lived, Miriam’s well of living water, mayim chayim followed the Israelites through their desert wanderings. Fresh water is precious,  it is life, we often take it for granted – we should not. Only one percent of the planet’s water is fresh and potable.

With climate change, increasingly drought haunts many regions. Crop failure means rising prices, starvation. In parts of our world children dig in muddy wells, scraping water and walking far distances to bring water home. Drought kills. Somehow we who are mostly made of water must waste it less, keep it pure, appreciate it more….draw water from the wells of salvation.

A wonderful song about water, by David Wilcox: the Farthest shore http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-MWOCr6h04

Finally, I offer one more  song for this season of introspection and joy:  Dan Nichols’ All We Can Do. It’s about life and death and the potential in that space between. With last week’s Yiskor, and a death in my family, and Kohelet being read during Sukkot, where all is vanity, and with Moses approaching death, unable to enter the promised land in this week’s Torah portion, this beautiful song is perfectly timed: http://www.jewishrock.com/music/all_we_can_do.mp3

Do as much as you can, with the time that you have, in the place where you are,

Eighteen words from a kid,

With less than a year to live,

Eighteen words from a kid

He knew so much more than we thought he did

Lo alecha ham’lachah ligmor
v’lo atah ben chorin l’hibatel mimena

What can one person do, the task is great and the day is short, words our fathers knew, we can’t do it all but we can all do more.

From all that used to be, to all that might have been, there’s no mystery, when we work with what’s in between

All we can do, is all we can do. All we can do is all we can do!

Vows and promises are powerful things.  This Story Shulamis is adapted from Peninnah Schram’s Stories One Generation tells Another.

Many years ago in a far place a young woman, a princess, went for a walk in the country wearing a fine gown of gold and silver. As curious as she was beautiful, she decided to explore along paths she had never been, deeper and deeper into the woods. After awhile, she came to a well.

“Good”, she said to herself, “I am so thirsty, I will just sit in this bucket, lower myself for a drink” which she did, but was unable to pull herself back up. What did she do then? She began to cry for help so a passerby would hear.  After a long time, a young man walking nearby heard her cries. He went over to the well, looked down and saw a strange form in gold and silver. “Are you human or demon?” he shouted down. “ I am human, pull me up, I have no more strength” “Swear to me you are human, and if you are, then when I raise you up you must marry me”   She was very cold down in the well, so she agreed.  The young man pulled on the ropes, and soon the young woman was standing next to him and she saw how handsome was the young man and with a wonderful smile.

“Now that I have saved you, and you are more beautiful than I imagined, you must marry me immediately”, Said the young man.  Who are your family?, the woman asked guardedly. No worries, I am from a respected Jewish family, a Kohen.  “I thank you for saving me, but you must first meet my parents and ask their permission to marry?

“I will wait, then, until I meet your parents” he said, “give me your word that you will marry no one else, and that will assure me of our pledge.”   “My word of pledge without witnesses? The young woman asked with a smile. “Look, there is a weasel, and the well for witnesses, and besides, we have the stars in heaven above us too”

“Agreed” answered the groom to be. And he promised as they walked to come to her parents’ home soon. They parted, repeating their promise to be true.

Each day the young woman waited for the young man, but he never came. Days into months into years. But she remembered his strength, his smile, his promise. With time, more and more suitors came to marry her. At first she simply refused each one, giving an excuse. She did not speak of her pledge to anyone, though, and after a time she began to feign madness to keep her secret and her pledge, acting strangely, tearing out her hair, bursting into song, or into silence. After awhile no more suitors came.

And what happened to the young man?  He returned to the city and did not remain faithful to his pledge. He married another, and before long they had a son. One day, when the child was three months old, he fell asleep in the garden, and his throat was pierced by a weasel’s fangs. The sorrow was deep in that home.  After awhile the couple had a second child, whom they watched carefully – and he was strong and healthy. One day when the child was three years old, he ran out into the garden, quickly climbed up a well, lost his balance and fell to his death.  The mother hearing his scream ran over but too late.  She was inconsolable, and kept repeating “Why? Why?”  When the mourning period was over the grieving wife came to her husband to ask if he know why the children had died so strangely. “Husband have you hidden something from me? Have you ever broken a pledge? There must be a curse on us for all this to happen. Perhaps by telling me the truth we can prevent even more unhappiness”  When the husband heard his wife’s words he realized he must confess, that he was responsible for this grief.  He fell on his knees, wept and revealed what had happened in the wood so long ago when he rescued the princess.

His young wife listened, then walked over to the window and looked at the stars for counsel. After a few moments, she knew what to say.  “We must go and get a divorce, and then you must find the young woman to whom you gave your sacred word to marry. Only then can we all find happiness and peace in our lives

When the young man arrived in the town where his betrothed lived, he asked about her. Everyone told him “ She’s crazy that one, no one would want her for a wife” but after awhile, the young man was direct to her home.  At first the family tried to make excuses why he could not visit.  But he said, “bring 3 witnesses, I promise to take her with any defects she has” Only then they allowed him in. When the young man saw his betrothed, he was shocked by the change in her appearance. She looked like a wild woman, but even now he saw traces of her loveliness, and her smile and he loved her.

He approached her and softly whispered” I have brought 3 witnesses, but I have also brought with me the memory of our original  and true witnesses, the weasel, the well and the stars in the heavens”  When the young woman heard these words, she looked up to see the young man. Her eyes became clear and bright, her loveliness returned, and she spoke slowly with her true clear voice. “I have stayed with my promise to remain faithful to you, for once a sacred oath has been taken, it cannot be broken”

Upon hearing these words, the young man wept. Then he told his betrothed what had happened “ What happened to my children was because of my broken promise – for that I must atone. But now, my love, if your love for me remains as strong as my feeling for you, let us be married – with your parents permission, of course. Her parents wept and granted their permission to marry the daughter, if she consented. So she did, and they were married. They had many children together and lived a life filled with happiness and contentment.

I have a few minor problems with this story: Firstly: what of the vows to his first wife – doesn’t this divorce break those? And is it really wise to make a binding pledge at first sight under the stars? Can people really go crazy if a promise of marriage is unfulfilled? We know the answer is yes, sometimes they do.

There are many more stories like this in Jewish tradition. Childless Hannah pledges her son to the Temple if she conceives.  Not only in Jewish tradition, but Everywhere-  Childhood is full of these stories –“ I’ll let your child go if you guess my name – could it be “Rumpelstilskin” – well then you gave your word, you must let the child go.”

The Kol Nidre prayer that we say on the eve of Yom Kippur has always bothered me. I was in y Synagogue’s office one day in early October,  when the phone rang, and it was someone from the local press asking what the words Kol Nidre  meant for an article about the upcoming holiday.  Well, it’s from the prayer -It means “all our vows” I helpfully added. But I thought to myself and did not say– we pray that they be nullified.  Unravel the words?  forget about the obligations of our souls? Is this right, I thought – what would  the outside world think of us –and what do I think of us- we are obviously not folks of our word, if we pray each year that they be discounted!

I knew the tradition arose from the Spanish Inquisition, where many were forced to falsely vow. I know that we are fallible, and sometimes stuff happens, even after an honest try we just cannot fulfill our word. But still it left me uneasy. Until  I learned of the tale of Jepthahs’(Yeftach’s)  daughter. Here’s a summary. Yeftach is the soldier, son of a prostitute, he rises to power.  He takes a lot of pride in his strength.  His nation,  Israel calls on him to lead them in a fight against Ammon. He feels, or thinks he feels, God’s presence in his life and he knows he’s doing right – doing God’s work, helping his nation. He makes an oath with God:  “If I win, If I get back safely, the first thing I see when I get into the town, the first thing out of the door of my house, I will offer to God as sacrifice.  He wins. He comes home, and his daughter dances through the doorway.  The text said:  and he did as he had vowed.  and so it became a custom to say dirges for the daughter of Yeftah. (Judges 11:28)

Oh, my God! This stupid man, thinking he felt close to God, actually thought that Creator wants him to sacrifice his daughter.  According to midrash, Yeftah was as stupid as a block of wood, that’s why he lost his daughter. What made him think that’s what God wanted? Drunk with his own sense of power and  self righteousness  – he took his own words to be powerful law and murdered.  Joel Grishaver notes:  He could have gotten the high priest, Pinchas, to annul the vow, but he was too proud a “leader “ to ask anyone to help him.  He stupidly put one vow above all the other teachings, for example in our tradition that to save a life is greater than almost all the other laws. Yeftah’s kind of thinking can turn a religion dangerously cruel and radical.

So yes, vows are important , to us all.  If I promise to marry you I really will come for you. But our word, even our vow  is not more important than life, than truth. The story of Yeftah’s daughter shows us powerfully that Kol nidre is the perhaps counterbalance to taking ourselves and our words too seriously –seriously enough to do hurt. We must accept and embrace our own limitations even as we strive to be honorable and keep our promises. We make mistakes, our word is not divine law.  Perhaps that is what Kol Nidre is for. G’mar Chatimah Tovah – may you be sealed for Goodness this Yom Kippur.

Elijah: Eliyahu ha navi saw an inspiring vision of God on the mountaintop. In Hebrew his vision is kol d’mamah dakah, the Voice of Gentle Stillness. Eli is the beloved, champion of downtrodden who never died (he rose to heaven on fiery chariot), so he visits us still to right wrongs, comfort the pained, and redeem us. I studied the verses of Elijah this July from First Kings 18:46-19:21, and really paid attention for the first time. I was wowed – these verses really spoke to me deeply, and as Rosh Hashanah 5773 approach I share my thoughts about God and Elijah’s inspiration: the Voice of Gentle Stillness, beginning with a summary of the story in verse:

Kol D’mama Dakah, a Voice of Gentle Stillness
Eliyahu hanavi, Eliyahu

Fearing for his life Eliyahu fled to Yizreala, from Jezabel
All alone and in despair, God please take my life! he prayed
I am no better than my fathers!

A messenger of God then touched Eliyahu suddenly
You are not alone, he said Eat my friend, and drink, I am with you.
Rise up from the darkness, and Go!
Rise up from the darkness, and know
Why you are here, are you listening?

God said Go to the mountain, I’ll be there!
Furious wind split the rocks, but Listen:
God is not in the wind.
After the wind, an earthquake, then a fire,

Trembling ground, singeing air,

But listen: God is not in the earthquake or the fire  .

Then Eliyahu could finally hear…
Kol D’mama Dakah, a voice of Gentle Stillness

1. Eliyahu has a journey: from the depths of despair to insight and inspiration, aided by 2 malachim messengers that give him food and water, but more importantly the living message he’s not alone! The word malach in Hebrew means messenger and angel, they are the same thing, they are those people in our lives that touch us in some incredible way, They are US when we can be there for someone  Eli journeys from Darkness to light: insight,  inspiration – maybe without coming from the darkness, so yearning , he could not have gained the heights?   Eli’s insight: Shema, Listen, and  WHAT Eliyahu can finally hear that is pretty amazing: he tells us where to find God, and it’s earth shattering and mind blowing stuff:
2. Kol D’mama daka, voice of gentle stillness – GOD IS HERE, in this voice! Just as revolutionary is knowing where God is NOT:  First thing up is a ruach, wind/spirit that is powerful enough to split mountains, shatter rocks.  One metaphor for God IS ruach, another is Rock, This is crazy – contradicting all CW what do you mean God isn’t in these things. But Eliyahu’s insight is NO. Earthquakes are pretty impressive and so powerful. Waddya mean God’s not here? And then there’s fire – a symbol of energy and spirit Why isn’t God here, and what is that VOICE? What do YOU think Eli’s vision , what is the still small voice?
3. Maybe this: After the drama in our lives, the struggle, war, fighting, comes the silence pregnant with new hope, new life – That’s where God is!  Look, Eli’s life IS an earthquake, a drama But the insight of Eli’s journey is to Reject drama. This is maverick –we pray that God fashions light AND creates darkness. But as darkness is the absence of light, could the bad stuff be the absence of God?  God’s not in the destruction, Not sitting there zapping people for punishment. God’s in the Good stuff. The creative power of the universe.  What if God were ONLY the force animating creation, the miracle of new life, a baby born, a seedling sprouting, galaxies forming from nebulae, communities from caring individuals. Not in the drama that overwhelms us –A Vision of God worth meditating on, reaching for resonance with.
4. But can God NOT be in whirlwinds? Well, maybe if we look deep within or beyond – God, and that voice is there – after all, the atoms of air and rocks, and the energy that sends them flying –are connected with the very forces of the universe, our atoms themselves forged in stars that exploded long ago  in the silence of space. In fact even empty space apparently has a field which gives particles reality, mass, it’s NOT empty, but filled with that same music of the spheres the ancients talk of. They meant the invisible laws that run through the fabric of the universe guiding the planets or stars. Maybe God’s sound is in this awe inspiring vibration. Fire and earthquakes even better places where matter and energy meet. Awareness of the majesty and intricacy of creation  can sound pretty beautiful –
5. Another possibility: Maybe it’s the sound of Light: sound and light criss cross in Torah: at Sinai, we saw the thunder.  Eli has come from darkness of the spirit to the heights of the mountain, and now he can hear – light? What does it sound like?
6. Or maybe it’s the invisible connections between everything Eli hears, if you could hear connections, what would they sound like, God?, Connections of action and reaction – between the hearts of people. Notice God’s answer to Eli’s prayer of Despair -It’s people. They bring him food and drink – with hands that care, the arms that hug, the voices that reassure. Connections between people. create communities, Connections between creatures that create living systems. In proper connection, parts of this world  combine to more than their sum.. Connections are what Torah’s all about, maybe if we listen this is the harmony we’ll hear.

Where is God? wherever we let God in. HOW? Eli’s insight maybe we can LISTEN to voices of gentle stillness – of other souls whom we can reach, to awareness of the universe,  to the harmony that’s there. Maybe that voice will teach us: Listen for the sounds of:

joy         Harmony                  Nature         Music              Friendship                      Love.

Kol d’mamaa dakah – the voice of gentle stillness, the voice of the most beautiful things in the universe, the song of God