This past Sunday, over 100 members of the Jewish community, from New Bedford, MA to Brattleboro, VT, gathered at Hebrew College in Newton, MA, for the first Jewish Climate Action Network conference, “From Uncertainty to Action: What You Can Do About Climate Change.” According to Rabbi Arthur Waskow, it was the first conference of its kind, “I would have heard about it,”  he told us, if there had been another.

For four hours, we learned together, sang together, talked together, and connected to each other. And through all this, we were inspired, motivated, and recharged. It was an amazing afternoon. I am grateful to all those who helped make it happen, and to all those who took the time and energy to come. It was a vision fulfilled; it was a start, not and ending. It was a new beginning, of putting the Boston area Jewish community into the conversation about climate change.

As Jews, we are deeply rooted in Torah and in community. Today, we brought these together in the context of climate change.  The power of that connection was felt by every one present.

We will go forward from here, together. We will grow stronger. We will become more connected. We will build community. We will build enthusiasm and determination. We will weave networks of interdependence, caring, compassion, and trust. We will speak out. We will bring about change.

We will make a difference.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network. 

Summery of the conference:

• Panel exploring what Judaism adds to our understanding and ability to respond to climate change
• Two rounds of workshops, each of which will provide concrete information about a specific way to respond to the threat of climate change and to connect with others
• Opportunity to speak with community organizations and businesses involved in environmental work
• Special workshop for teens and tweens
• Short wrap-up program highlighting what has been accomplished and providing a send off
• Facilitation of informal gatherings for dinner at nearby restaurants those who want to continue the conversations.

A schedule and descriptions of workshops and bios of workshop leaders can be found at http://www.jewishclimate.org/may-2015-conference.html

When: Sunday, May 17, 3-7 PM

Where: Hebrew College, Herrick Road, Newton
Registration: https://secure.hebrewcollege.edu/form/uncertainty-action-what-you-can-do-about-climate-change

Cost: $18 donation (optional); students are free.

Co-sponsors include: Hebrew College, Center for Global Judaism, Hazon, LimmudBoston, Shomrei Bereshit: Rabbis and Cantors for the Earth, and others.

We dreamed, you and I,

my brother and my sister,

interpreter it has none,

an ancient dream it is,

as the days when we went forth from exile,

but you forgot it or did not elucidate it for yourselves,

and I did not recount it to you.

Grand is the dream,

vast like the void of the universe,

and we long for it with our souls,

but I will not remind you of it this time,

except for a small fragment/excerpt.
Now, please hear, my brother,

please hear my dream, my sister,

and remember that you also dreamed as I did.

 
In my dream–and here it is,

I arrive at the land.

And the land is neglected and desolate

and is in the hands of foreigners,

and the destruction darkens the light of her face

and destroys her spirit,

and an alien government corrupts her.

Distant from me and strange to me

is the land of my ancestors,

and I, too, am distant from her and a stranger to her.

The single connection that ties me to her,

and the lone memory that reminds me

that she is my mother and I am her son,

is–because my soul is also desolate

like her,

for it, too, fell into the hands of foreigners,

to destruct it and destroy it.

I feel the destruction and I ponder the ruins

with all my soul

and with every ounce of my being,

and a divine voice goes forth from the ruins and declares,

“Mortal! Consider these ruins,

and consider them once again,

turn not a blind eye to them.

And you shall know and gain insight

to what you already understand,

that the destruction is the destruction of your soul,

and the destroyer is the destroyer in your life,

in the midst of which you lived in foreign lands

and which clung to you until this time.

Remember this,

for your redemption requires this!

And as you continue to ponder and to dig deeper,

you shall see that from below the ruins

an orphan cinder still whispers,

saved by hiding from the spirit of that life,

and the spirit of the land breathes upon it

to bring it to life.

And when it totally abandoned that life,

which others created,

when you left their land and arrived here

to create a new life for yourself, your life–

then cinder smoldered and lived,

glowed and brought forth its flame,

and you returned and lived,

and your people and your land returned and lived.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network.

On this last night of the Festival of Re-Dedication, we light all eight candles, we complete the “Litany of Harm” and the “Call to Action,” and we add one last item to our list of promises to ourselves for the year to come.

Hanukkah Night 8:

The Litany of Harm:

For all those in island nations, where rising sea levels and superstorms threaten their very existence. We stand in witness!

For all coastal cities and villages, where storm swells and flooding put lives and homes at risk. We stand in witness!

For all those who suffer from tropical diseases, and those at risk from spreading diseases and heat waves. We stand in witness!

For farmers and all who eat, as droughts ruin crops, incomes, and food supplies. We stand in witness!

For people of color around the world, who are at risk from climate change and environmental injustice. We stand in witness!

For the human populations, plants, and animals who are losing or have lost access to enough fresh water. We stand in witness!

For the countless animals who suffer in factory farms, in a system that causes misery and carbon pollution. We stand in witness!

For all the habitats already lost and which are disappearing. We stand in witness!*

For the endangered mammals, plants, birds, insects, and all the species we will never discover. We stand in witness!

For the burning rain forests. We stand in witness!

For the warming oceans and the dying choral reefs. We stand in witness!

For the mountaintops removed, water supplies poisoned, and oceans spilled with oil. We stand in witness!

For all who make their living from our addiction to fossil fuels.We stand in witness!

For our own roles in using and wasting energy. We stand in witness!

For all of us, and our children and their children, who are living and growing up on a changing Earth. We stand in witness!

For the courage and strength it takes to face climate change with love and hope. We stand in witness!

The Call to Action:

We’re ready to act because we have a favorite place on Earth that we want our great-grandchildren to experience. With love in our hearts, Compassionate One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because somewhere we heard John Muir’s voice, reminding us that in the beauty of nature we see the beginning of creation. With beauty in our hearts, Creator, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because someone in our life once shared something with us – something we needed; something we could not live without – and we want to do the same for the next generation and beyond. With generosity in our hearts, Holy One of Blessing, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because we’ve read texts we consider sacred, and they make clear that the Earth is a gift, and we are stewards of that gift. With responsibility in our hearts, G!d of Judgment, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because the blessing of life has allowed us to see the ways our lives are all connected with one another in a web of mutuality. Affirming the web of life, Mysterious One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because the most basic moral instruction at the core of every world religion is the call to love our neighbors as ourselves; … and we regard future generations as no less our neighbors than those who live next door to us today.  Affirming all people alive – and yet to be born – as our neighbors, G!d of Life, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because we want to be part of the solution.  Affirming the gift of creativity, Almighty, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because the G!d of Many Names is a G!d of hope, and as people of hope, we will not stop until the people of the world embrace new habits, new practices and new aspirations that will extend to countless generations the bountiful creation into which we were born.  As people of hope, G!d of Many Names, move us to action.**

We add the last item to our list.

For this last night, we consider how we behave toward those around us. What can we do better in our individual relationships? Where are our weaknesses? Our strengths? What do we wish we could do better when we are interacting with family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, and others around us?

Here are my thoughts for this last night of Hanukkah:

Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu, Our G!d and G!d of our ancestors, give me strength on this last night of Hanukkah, and help me to re-dedicate myself to remembering that I am created in the image of the Holy One of Blessing, to eating organic, local food, to speaking out about racism, to maintaining my values in my finances, to writing to my representatives or local paper about climate change and social justice issues, to supporting the hungry, to matching my words and actions to my beliefs and values, and to treating others as I wish to be treated.

What does your complete list look like?

As you go forward through this year, I invite you to keep your list with you. When you are feeling in need of strength, recite the prayer you have created to ask G!d for help. When you are feeling on top of the world, recite it to remind yourself of the work you have to do. Reflect on your successes. Feel gratitude for what you have been able to do. Search for the strength to go ever deeper in bringing light and joy and goodness into the Universe, and making G!d’s presence manifest in the world.

Hanukkah Sameach – Happy Hanukkah,

Rabbi Katy

* by Rabbi Shoshana Meira Friedman

** by Rev. Jim Antal, adapted

On this penultimate night of Hanukkah, we light seven candles, we continue the “Litany of Harm” and the “Call to Action,” and we consider a seventh way to strengthen our resolve to change the world in positive ways.

Hanukkah Night 7:

The Litany of Harm:

For all those in island nations, where rising sea levels and superstorms threaten their very existence. We stand in witness!

For all coastal cities and villages, where storm swells and flooding put lives and homes at risk. We stand in witness!

For all those who suffer from tropical diseases, and those at risk from spreading diseases and heat waves. We stand in witness!

For farmers and all who eat, as droughts ruin crops, incomes, and food supplies. We stand in witness!

For people of color around the world, who are at risk from climate change and environmental injustice. We stand in witness!

For the human populations, plants, and animals who are losing or have lost access to enough fresh water. We stand in witness!

For the countless animals who suffer in factory farms, in a system that causes misery and carbon pollution. We stand in witness!

For all the habitats already lost and which are disappearing. We stand in witness!*

For the endangered mammals, plants, birds, insects, and all the species we will never discover. We stand in witness!

For the burning rain forests. We stand in witness!

For the warming oceans and the dying choral reefs. We stand in witness!

For the mountaintops removed, water supplies poisoned, and oceans spilled with oil. We stand in witness!

For all who make their living from our addiction to fossil fuels.We stand in witness!

For our own roles in using and wasting energy. We stand in witness!

The Call to Action:

We’re ready to act because we have a favorite place on Earth that we want our great-grandchildren to experience. With love in our hearts, Compassionate One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because somewhere we heard John Muir’s voice, reminding us that in the beauty of nature we see the beginning of creation. With beauty in our hearts, Creator, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because someone in our life once shared something with us – something we needed; something we could not live without – and we want to do the same for the next generation and beyond. With generosity in our hearts, Holy One of Blessing, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because we’ve read texts we consider sacred, and they make clear that the Earth is a gift, and we are stewards of that gift. With responsibility in our hearts, G!d of Judgment, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because the blessing of life has allowed us to see the ways our lives are all connected with one another in a web of mutuality. Affirming the web of life, Mysterious One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because the most basic moral instruction at the core of every world religion is the call to love our neighbors as ourselves; … and we regard future generations as no less our neighbors than those who live next door to us today.  Affirming all people alive – and yet to be born – as our neighbors, G!d of Life, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because we want to be part of the solution.  Affirming the gift of creativity, Almighty, move us to action.

We add a seventh item to our efforts toward re-dedication.

For the seventh night, we consider our integrity. Do our actions match our words? Do our words mirror our deeply-held beliefs? Do we say and do what we know is right? What can we do to ensure that the answers to these questions are YES as much of the time as possible?

Here is how my list is shaping up on this seventh night of Hanukkah:

Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu, Our G!d and G!d of our ancestors, give me strength on this third night of Hanukkah, and help me to re-dedicate myself to remembering that I am created in the image of the Holy One of Blessing, to eating organic, local food, to speaking out about racism, to maintaining my values in my finances, to writing to my representatives or local paper about climate change and social justice issues, to supporting the hungry, and to matching my words and actions to my beliefs and values.

What are you adding to your list tonight?

Chag Urim Sameach – Happy Hanukkah,

Rabbi Katy

* by Rabbi Shoshana Meira Friedman

** by Rev. Jim Antal, adapted

Tonight we light six candles, the lights in our home grow ever brighter, but as we add to the “Litany of Harm,” we know that there is darkness in many corners of the world, and so we add also to our “Call to Action,” and consider a sixth way to move our lives forward in a way that adds light to the world.

Hanukkah Night 6:

The Litany of Harm:

For all those in island nations, where rising sea levels and superstorms threaten their very existence. We stand in witness!

For all coastal cities and villages, where storm swells and flooding put lives and homes at risk. We stand in witness!

For all those who suffer from tropical diseases, and those at risk from spreading diseases and heat waves. We stand in witness!

For farmers and all who eat, as droughts ruin crops, incomes, and food supplies. We stand in witness!

For people of color around the world, who are at risk from climate change and environmental injustice. We stand in witness!

For the human populations, plants, and animals who are losing or have lost access to enough fresh water. We stand in witness!

For the countless animals who suffer in factory farms, in a system that causes misery and carbon pollution. We stand in witness!

For all the habitats already lost and which are disappearing. We stand in witness!*

For the endangered mammals, plants, birds, insects, and all the species we will never discover. We stand in witness!

For the burning rain forests. We stand in witness!

For the warming oceans and the dying choral reefs. We stand in witness!

For the mountaintops removed, water supplies poisoned, and oceans spilled with oil. We stand in witness!

The Call to Action:

We’re ready to act because we have a favorite place on Earth that we want our great-grandchildren to experience. With love in our hearts, Compassionate One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because somewhere we heard John Muir’s voice, reminding us that in the beauty of nature we see the beginning of creation. With beauty in our hearts, Creator, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because someone in our life once shared something with us – something we needed; something we could not live without – and we want to do the same for the next generation and beyond. With generosity in our hearts, Holy One of Blessing, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because we’ve read texts we consider sacred, and they make clear that the Earth is a gift, and we are stewards of that gift. With responsibility in our hearts, G!d of Judgment, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because the blessing of life has allowed us to see the ways our lives are all connected with one another in a web of mutuality. Affirming the web of life, Mysterious One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act  because the most basic moral instruction at the core of every world religion is the call to love our neighbors as ourselves; … and we regard future generations as no less our neighbors than those who live next door to us today.  Affirming all people alive – and yet to be born – as our neighbors, G!d of Life, move us to action. **

We add a sixth action to our commitment to ourselves.

For the sixth night, we consider our neighbors, those in our own communities and those around the world, who are mired in poverty, who go to bed hungry at night, and whose children die of starvation. What can we do to help them? How are we able to assist one person, a family, or a community? What are we able to give, financially or through our talents and skills, to change the plight of those with little or nothing?

Here are my commitments on this sixth night of Hanukkah:

Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu, Our G!d and G!d of our ancestors, give me strength on this third night of Hanukkah, and help me to re-dedicate myself to remembering that I am created in the image of the Holy One of Blessing, to eating organic, local food, to speaking out about racism, to maintaining my values in my finances, to writing to my representatives or local paper about climate change and social justice issues, and to supporting the hungry.

How is your list shaping up?

Chag Urim Sameach – Happy Hanukkah,

Rabbi Katy

* by Rabbi Shoshana Meira Friedman

** by Rev. Jim Antal

On this fourth night, half way through Hanukkah, we light four candles, continue the “Litany of Harm” and the “Call to Action,” and consider a fourth way to move our lives forward in a way that adds goodness to the world.

Hanukkah Night 4:

The Litany of Harm:

For all those in island nations, where rising sea levels and superstorms threaten their very existence. We stand in witness!

For all coastal cities and villages, where storm swells and flooding put lives and homes at risk. We stand in witness!

For all those who suffer from tropical diseases, and those at risk from spreading diseases and heat waves. We stand in witness!

For farmers and all who eat, as droughts ruin crops, incomes, and food supplies. We stand in witness!

For people of color around the world, who are at risk from climate change and environmental injustice. We stand in witness!

For the human populations, plants, and animals who are losing or have lost access to enough fresh water. We stand in witness!

For the countless animals who suffer in factory farms, in a system that causes misery and carbon pollution. We stand in witness!

For all the habitats already lost and which are disappearing. We stand in witness!*

The Call to Action:

We’re ready to act because we have a favorite place on Earth that we want our great-grandchildren to experience. With love in our hearts, Compassionate One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because somewhere we heard John Muir’s voice, reminding us that in the beauty of nature we see the beginning of creation. With beauty in our hearts, Creator, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because someone in our life once shared something with us – something we needed; something we could not live without – and we want to do the same for the next generation and beyond. With generosity in our hearts, Holy One of Blessing, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because we’ve read texts we consider sacred, and they make clear that the Earth is a gift, and we are stewards of that gift. With responsibility in our hearts, G!d of Judgment, move us to action.**

We add a fourth promise to ourselves.

For the fourth night, we consider our finances. Where do you spend your money and how? What does the cost of an item say about the wages of the people who made it? What resources went into making it? If you have money invested, do you know how it is being used? How does your bank use your money? Are the ways your money is invested consistent with your values? (Click here for some resources with changes you might make.)

Here are my thoughts for this fourth night of Hanukkah:

Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu, Our G!d and G!d of our ancestors, give me strength on this fourth night of Hanukkah, and help me to re-dedicate myself to remembering that I am created in the image of the Holy One of Blessing, to eating organic, local food, to speaking out about racism, and to maintaining my values in my finances.

What do you feel moved to add to your list tonight?

Chag Urim Sameach – Happy Hanukkah,

Rabbi Katy

* by Rabbi Shoshana Meira Friedman

** by Rev. Jim Antal

On this third night of Hanukkah, we light three candles and continue to add to the “Litany of Harm” and the “Call to Action,” and we provide a third action to our personal list of ways in which to increase the sanctity of our lives and the lives of those around us.

Hanukkah Night 3:

We continue the Litany of Harm:

For all those in island nations, where rising sea levels and superstorms threaten their very existence. We stand in witness!

For all coastal cities and villages, where storm swells and flooding put lives and homes at risk. We stand in witness!

For all those who suffer from tropical diseases, and those at risk from spreading diseases and heat waves. We stand in witness!

For farmers and all who eat, as droughts ruin crops, incomes, and food supplies. We stand in witness!

For people of color around the world, who are at risk from climate change and environmental injustice. We stand in witness!

For the human populations, plants, and animals who are losing or have lost access to enough fresh water.*

We continue our Call to Action:

We’re ready to act because we have a favorite place on earth that we want our great-grandchildren to experience. With love in our hearts, Compassionate One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because somewhere we heard John Muir’s voice, reminding us that in the beauty of nature we see the beginning of creation. With beauty in our hearts, Creator, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because someone in our life once shared something with us – something we needed; something we could not live without – and we want to do the same for the next generation and beyond. With generosity in our hearts, Holy One of Blessing, move us to action.””

And we add a third item for increasing holiness.

For the third night, we focus on our responses to people of color. Do we see the differences in how white people and people of color are treated? Do we see how our days are different from those who are different from ourselves? Are we ready and able to recognize and acknowledge our white privilege? And what do we do about all of this?

Here are my thoughts for this third night of Hanukkah:

Our G!d and G!d of our ancestors, give me strength on this third night of Hanukkah, and help me to re-dedicate myself to remembering that I am created in the image of the Holy One of Blessing, to eating organic, local food, and to speaking out about racism.

What do you feel moved to add to your list tonight?

Chag Urim Sameach – Happy Hanukkah,

Rabbi Katy

* by Rabbi Shoshana Meira Friedman

** by Rev. Jim Antal

On this second night of Hanukkah, we continue to increase in holiness by lighting two candles and by adding to the “Litany of Harm” and the “Call to Action,” and by adding a new action to our personal list of ways in which to re-dedicate ourselves. (See Night 1 for a full introduction.)

Hanukkah Night 2:

We continue the Litany of Harm:

For all those in island nations, where rising sea levels and superstorms threaten their very existence. We stand in witness!

For all coastal cities and villages, where storm swells and flooding put lives and homes at risk. We stand in witness!

For all those who suffer from tropical diseases, and those at risk from spreading diseases and heat waves. We stand in witness!

For farmers and all who eat, as droughts ruin crops, incomes, and food supplies. We stand in witness!*

We continue our Call to Action:

We’re ready to act because we have a favorite place on earth that we want our great-grandchildren to experience. With love in our hearts, Compassionate One, move us to action.

We’re ready to act because somewhere we heard John Muir’s voice, reminding us that in the beauty of nature we see the beginning of creation. With beauty in our hearts, Creator, move us to action.**

And we add to our list of actions to which we re-dedicate ourselves.

For the second night, we focus on food. What are the ways in which you are prepared to change your eating habits to better protect the Earth and farm workers? What can you give up or what can you take on that will make your food healthier for both you and the planet?

Here are my thoughts for this second night of Hanukkah:

Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu, Our G!d and G!d of our ancestors, give me strength on this second night of Hanukkah, and help me to re-dedicate myself to remembering that I am created in the image of the Holy One of Blessing and to eating organic, local food.

What will you add to your list tonight?

Hanukkah Sameach – Happy Hanukkah,

Rabbi Katy

* by Rabbi Shoshana Meira Friedman

** by Rev. Jim Antal

Why don’t we light eight candles on the first night of Hanukkah, and work our way down to one? Why do we start with one candle and work our way up to eight? So familiar are we with our traditional way of lighting the candles and increasing the light, that imagining doing it the opposite way is almost impossible. Reduce the amount of light each night? No way!

Yet, in ancient times this custom seems to have been practiced. In the Talmud, the School of Shammai said, “On the first day eight lights are lit and thereafter they are gradually reduced,” but the School of Hillel said, no, no, no! “On the first day one is lit and thereafter they are progressively increased.” We all know who won that argument! Hillel’s reasoning? “We increase in matters of holiness but we do not decrease.” (Shabbat 21b)

Thus, we learn from Hanukkah – the festival of re-dedication – that in regard to holiness, we are never to decrease, only to increase. So, this is what happens when we light the Hanukkah candles – we increase the light, the holiness, the positive energy, the goodness, in the universe.

I think of that game, “I’m going to my grandmother’s and I’m taking with me…” Each person “takes” their own new item, but also all those named previously, so that the list grows longer and longer and longer. This is what happens with increasing holiness. Each night we bring into the room, into the universe, into our lives, all the goodness and holiness of this particular candle-lighting, as well as the goodness and holiness from each previous one.

This week, we will post a bit of holiness for you to bring to your candle-lighting, and each night we will add a new bit, eight pieces of a puzzle to fill in and create something whole over the eight nights of Hanukkah. Each night we will add two verses from a “Litany of Harm” to the planet, written by Rabbi Shoshana Meira Freidman, to help us stand in witness and solidarity with all those who are being harmed by climate change. It will also include one verse from “A Climate Change Call and Response to Action” written by Rev. Jim Antal. And at the end of each of these sets of verses you will find ideas and questions to help you decide to what to re-dedication yourself that night. Each day will provide a different theme.

I invite you to keep adding on, as we do with lighting the candles and with the “I’m going to my grandmother’s…” game, so that on the 8th day of Hanukkah, you read the entire Litany of Harm, the entire Call to Action, and re-dedicate yourself to all of your actions.

Hanukkah Night 1:

We first the candles and recite the traditional blessings.

We then begin the Litany of Harm to our Planet:

For all those in island nations, where rising sea levels and superstorms threaten their very existence. We stand in witness!

For all coastal cities and villages, where storm swells and flooding put lives and homes at risk. We stand in witness!

We begin our Call to Action:

We’re ready to act because we have a favorite place on Earth that we want our great-grandchildren to experience. With love in our hearts, Compassionate One, move us to action.

We start to act:

For the first night, we focus on the spiritual. What are the ways that you want to re-dedicate yourself to your spiritual life? How do you want to continue to strength and deepen your relationship with the Holy One? Prayer? Meditation? Spending time outdoors? What will enrich your spiritual life the most? You may want to consider these questions alone, or discuss them with those lighting candles with you.

Here are my thoughts for tonight:

Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu, Our G!d and G!d of our ancestors, give me strength on this first night of Hanukkah, and help me to rededicate myself to remembering that I am created in your image, in the image of the Holy One of Blessing.

What are your thoughts? For the last part of tonight’s Hanukkah meditation, put your intention about spiritual re-dedication into words and share it with those around you.

Chag Urim Sameach – Happy Hanukkah,

Connections. Everything is about connections. Connections across space. Connections across time. Connections in thought and spirit. Connections between. Connections among. Just connections, nothing else. That’s what prayer is about. That is what faith is about. That is what life is about.

In this week’s parashah, Chayyei Sarah, “Isaac went forth to [lasuach] in the field toward evening.” (Gen 24:63) The rabbis teach us that lasuach has the meaning, “to pray,” and they provide a connection to Psalm 102:1, which begins, “A prayer for a poor man when he enwraps himself [lishpoch sicho] to pour out his heart before the One.” Isaac was pouring out his heart, pouring out his words, his conversation (sicho) to G!d.; he was praying.

As Isaac prayed a deep heart-felt prayer, the medieval commentator, Sforno, says that “he turned away from the public path so as not to be interrupted by wayfarers, and went into the field to pray, even though he had already prayed in Be’er lachai-ro’i. But before he prayed he was answered.”

What!? Yes, Sforno is saying that Isaac’s prayer was answered even before he spoke it. Wow! What is the basis for this ancient teaching? What does this mean? Could our prayers also be answered before we speak them?

The answers begin with a connection to the previous verse, “Isaac was on his way, coming from Be’er lachai-ro’i” (Gen. 24:62). Just prior to his wandering in the field, Isaac had been in a place whose name, according to another medieval commentator, Rashi, (Gen. 16:14), means, “a well upon which a living angel appeared.” The name by which Hagar calls G!d in the previous verse, Gen. 11:13, is El Ro’i, “the G!d of seeing,” connecting thus the name of the well also to the Divine Presence. This place through which Isaac passed is the same place where Hagar’s prayers were answered, where she experienced G!d seeing what was happening to him, and where G!d told her that she would conceive and give birth to a son, Ishmael. (Gen. 16:11)

Is there something special—magical almost—about this well? Is Be’er lachai-ro’i a place to go to when we want our prayers answered? Maybe. After all, since prayers were answered for Hagar, the rabbis reasoned that therefore prayers could be answered in the same place for Isaac, too.  And maybe for others as well?

The sages cite other evidence that Isaac’s prayer could already have been answered—evidence from other people for whom this happened. They remember the prophet Daniel, who reported on his vision: “And he said to me “Fear not, Daniel, for since the first day that you set your heart to contemplate and to fast before your God, your words were heard;” (Daniel 10:12) They cite Isaiah, “Thus G!d said to Isaiah that it will one day come to be:  ‘And it shall be, when they have not yet called, that I will respond; when they are still speaking, that I will hearken.’” (Is. 65:24) If prayers could be answered before they were spoken for Daniel and Isaiah, why not for the patriarch Isaac?

But perhaps the answer is deeper. The verses about Hagar’s prayers, Genesis 16:11-14, give us connections to Ishmael as well as to Hagar, for this is the place where the reality of his conception entered Hagar’s consciousness. In this instance, the connection to Hagar and Ishmael is through the place, Be’er lachai-ro’i. But the sages make another connection between Isaac’s prayer and Hagar and Ishmael with Gen. 21:15, when Hagar and Ishmael have been sent away by Abraham at Sarah’s behest, and in Hagar’s despair she “cast the child [Ishmael] under one of the bushes [hasichim].” The two words lasuach and sichim, have the same three-letter root. They have different etymologies, and different meanings, but because of the similarities, the rabbis find meaning, as they often did, by noting and strengthening the connection, in this case connections within the family.

Isaac’s meditation in the field has a connection to his father, too. From the Talmud (Berachot 6b), we learn that Abraham instituted the morning prayers, Shacharit, Isaac the afternoon prayers, Mincha, and Jacob the evening prayers, Ma’ariv. But the Biblical commentators (e.g. Rach, Gen. 24:63) don’t credit Isaac alone for bringing the Mincha prayer service into being; they tell us that the Mincha prayer originated with Abraham, but was brought to fruition and named through Isaac. The innovation of the afternoon prayer had to be passed from one generation to the next in order to secure for the tradition a place into the future. Connections to past generations.

Connections to the past don’t end with Hagar and Abraham. They go all the way back to Creation. Rashbam, in his commentary on “Isaac went forth to pray in the field [lasuach basadeh] toward evening” focuses on the words lasuach basadeh, and he refers us to Genesis 2:5 and the creation of every “bush/herb of the field (siach hasadeh),” for which he provides the association, “to plant trees and to see the fruits of his efforts.” The fruits of the planter’s efforts, the answers to the pray-er’s prayers—the connection to Creation offers additional evidence that our prayers, our pouring out of our hearts in time of need, are answered.

The verse Rashbam comments on comes from the second creation story and in its entirety it reads, “Now no tree of the field was yet on the earth, neither did any herb/bush of the field yet grow, because the Lord God had not brought rain upon the earth, and there was no man to work the soil.” (Gen 2:5) It is followed by, “A mist ascended from the earth and watered the entire surface of the ground.” (Gen 2:6) Two verses later, G!d “planted a garden in Eden” (Gen 2:8). Although we understand from the ancient rabbis that there is no “before” and “after” in the Torah, nevertheless, here in this narrative we find that even before rain began falling, there was mist rising to water the plants!

How often do we understand the rising mist as the answer to our prayer for falling rain? When rain has not yet been created, we must expand our minds and our hearts to be able to see that the rising mist may indeed be how our prayer is answered. A mist that rises from the ground may be the precursor to the rain that falls from the sky, or it may even have the same function.

So can our prayers be answered before we speak them? What would it mean if they were? The answer I believe,  is ultimately about allowing connections. Isaac was physically alone in that field, but in his heart and mind he was connected across time and space to Hagar, Ishmael, a special well, G!d, Earth, and Creation. And, perhaps most importantly, his heart was open to receive a message, the message that G!d was ready to send him.

When we open our hearts and allow ourselves to be connected to those in our lives—living and dead, near at hand and far away—to G!d, to the Earth, to the past, to all of this and more—then our prayers are answered. We may not always see and recognize our answers as easily as Isaac did—he lifted up his eyes and there was Rebecca coming toward him, his new love, his wife to be. But if we listen closely to our hearts and souls, if we keep them open, despite whatever obstacles get thrown our way, if we stand beside a well with a seeing or seeable angel upon it, then, we, too, can feel or see or hear an answer coming to us, too.

Many prayers of petition are built into our tradition, such as the blessings of the weekday Amidah (Shmoneh Esreh) and the prayer for healing recited during the Torah service. Many of the petitionary blessings end with a chatimah, a closing signature, sort of a summary of what the blessing is about.  However, if we look closely at these, we see that they are, in essence, statements of what G!d does. For example, the morning blessing for the body ends with “Blessed are You, Adonai, healer of all flesh and worker of miracles.” This is a statement of who and what G!d is and does, as much as, or more than, it is a request for what we hope will be.

Hope, what does this word really mean? Dictionary.com defines the verb “to hope” as “to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence,” but also as, “to believe, desire, or trust.” If we take all those closing signatures of blessings as statements of reality, they can give us faith, faith without an indirect object. Not faith IN something or someone, just faith—the sense, the knowledge, the understanding, the trust, that whatever happens, there will still be meaning, we will still be able to find meaning and well being and self-integrity. We will, on some very basic and fundamental level, be OK.

This, I believe, is what it means to have our prayers answered before we pray. Our prayers are not a request for something to happen, but a statement of our faith, and therefore they are answered even before we say them, for if not, we wouldn’t even say them.

What makes it possible for us to have this kind of faith? Lawrence Hoffman in his book The Art of Public Prayer, discusses patterns. The anthropologist Gregory Bateson spoke of “the pattern which connects” and described the patterns upon patterns that are present in the living world, their increasing complexity, and how they all connect. Lawrence Hoffman refers to Bateson’s description of the levels of patterns  He asks us to think of connections between patterns in the universe and, as we compare more and more sets of patterns, how quickly they become so complex that they are beyond the capacity of the human mind to fathom. He suggests that these infinite levels of patterns are not only evidence of order in the universe, but are also a way of seeing a Divine Presence in the universe.

Faith is about connecting all the patterns, and trusting that those we cannot understand really exist. It is about certainty and knowing, combined with humility, something we feel in the pit of our stomach. It is about knowing our smallness in the vast sweeps of space and time that constitute the Universe—and beyond. It is about knowing our importance and the difference we can make in this world when we say YES to the still small voice we hear within us. Faith is about feeling the rightness of that choice in the deepest recesses of our soul.

Faith is about knowing—through the myriad connections between us and all that surrounds and encompasses us—that we are part of, not separate from, all of Creation, the natural world that surrounds us.

Patti Ann Rogers, in her poem “The Family Is All There Is,” begins: “Think of those old, enduring connections found in all flesh–the channeling wires and threads, vacuoles, granules, plasma and pods, purple veins, ascending boles and coral sapwood (sugar- and light-filled), those common ligaments, filaments, fibers and  canals.” She goes on to lyrically express all kinds of connections with the world around us that wouldn’t have come readily to my mind, reminding us that we are very much a part of all that is, and not separate. Faith is about opening our hearts to all these unseen connections and trusting that they—and others exist.

Faith is about embracing the Butterfly Effect, the concept in chaos theory that a small change at one place in a complex system can have large effects elsewhere. It is about believing that there is meaning in our lives and in our existence, and that we have a meaningful impact.

Faith is about the “Supposition” Pattiann Rogers writes about: “Suppose the molecular changes taking place in the mind during the act of praise resulted in an emanation rising into space….Suppose benevolent praise, coming into being by our will, had a separate existence, its purple or azure light gathering in the upper reaches, affecting the aura of morning haze over autumn fields, or causing a perturbation in the mode of an asteroid. What if praise and its emanations were catalysts to the harmonious expansion of the void? Suppose, for the prosperous welfare of the universe, there were an element of need involved.” Faith is about knowing that our own faith has a positive impact on the Universe.

We need to pray, not so that we will get what we pray for, but in order to understand that the answers—the connections—are already present, which is why the answering of our prayers is in the praying. The answers are in the connections, and they are always available for us to see, understand, and accept into our hearts and souls. All we need to do is open our eyes, as Hagar did, our hearts, as the poor man in the Psalm did, and our bodies and minds, and as Isaac did when he walked out into the field, under the open sky, surrounded by G!d’s creatures, where the connections could flow without impediment. For, as Pattiann Rogers tells us: “I’m sure there’s a god in favor of drums…. [and] the heart must be the most pervasive drum of all. Imagine hearing all together every tinny snare of every heartbeat in every jumping mouse and harvest mouse, sagebrush vole and least shrew living across the prairie; and add to that cacophony the individual staccato ticking’s inside all gnatcatchers, kingbirds, kestrels, rock doves, pine warblers crossing, criss-crossing each other in the sky, the sound of their beatings overlapping with the singular hammerings of the hearts of cougar, coyote, weasel, badger, pronghorn, the ponderous bass of the black bear; and on deserts, too, all the knackings, the flutterings inside wart snakes, whiptails, racers and sidewinders, earless lizards, cactus owls; plus the clamors undersea, slow booming in the breasts of beluga and bowhead, uniform rappings in a passing school of cod or bib, the thidderings of bat rays and needlefish.” Faith is in connecting to all these heartbeats, our own, and countless others across space and time.

Faith is knowing that our prayers are answered. Before we speak the words.

Rabbi Katy Z. Allen is the founder and leader of Ma’yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope inWayland, MA, and a staff chaplain at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. She is the co-convener of the Jewish Climate Action Network, a member of the Jewcology.org editorial board, a board member of Shomrei Bereishit: Rabbis and Cantors for the Earth, and the co-creator of Gathering in Grief: The Israel / Gaza Conflict.

Just before Yom Kippur, I posted Al Chet – Confessional for the Earth. So many are the deeds, misdeeds, and non-deeds in relation to the Earth for which we must confess, and then, hopefully, do teshuvah. With this post I begin a series of suggestions for how to implement changes that can help to make our confessional meaningful beyond its words, into actions.

I begin with a response to this phrase:

For the sin we have committed against You by believing we are doing enough.

Do you believe you are doing enough? I think many of us feel we are not. Maybe we even have in our heads ideas of what we should be doing, but we have a hard time getting motivated. Maybe we are scared, or just stuck, or overwhelmed by the many options running through our heads or coming at us in email blasts and other social media.

How do we find our own path? For it is our own path we must follow – the on-going process teshuvah is a very individual one, and that is what we are talking about – re-turning to G!d in a way that really alters our actions.

So I offer for you a meditation to help you solidify your understanding of your way forward to a more complete relationship with the Holy One of Blessing and the Earth.

Meditation for a Stronger and More Active Earth Connection

• Step outside.
• Make yourself comfortable in a comfortable place. Give yourself a few minutes to settle in.
• Relax your breathing. Breathe in deeply. Breath out, slowly exhaling. Repeat, using the breathy word Yah - G!d – the Breath of Life.
• Now feel the Earth beneath your feet. Focus on the connection between your feet and the ground beneath. Feel your connection to Earth flowing up from below. Then feel the Earth’s connection to you flowing downward from yourself.
• Return to a few breaths of Yah.
• Look upward at the sky. Feel your connection to the heavens – the Sun, the stars, the Moon. Focus on that connection. Allow the energy of your connection to the heavens to flow down from above. Then feel the sky’s connection to you flowing upward from yourself.
• Breathe deeply.
• Close your eyes. Visualize your connection to beloved places, to important people in your life, to other living things. Allow their connection to you to flow inward to your heart. Allow your connection to them to flow outward in return.
• Breathe deeply.
• Use your own language and images. Feel a sense of gratitude. Ask G!d for strength and direction.
• Hold the silence. Hold the stillness. Hold the strength. Let the answers come.
• Breathe deeply.
• When you are ready, open your eyes.
• Feel yourself blessed and energized.
• When you are ready, move onward to what is next.

You may wish to repeat this, to modify and make it your own. Perhaps you want to add words – or a word – of prayer. Play with it until you feel a new sense of resolve and strength and courage to move forward.

Remember that the Confession for the Earth ends with these words:”we are the ones we have been waiting for.”

You can do it. I can do it. Together, we can do it.

And we will.

Rabbi Katy Z. Allen is the founder and leader of Ma’yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope in Wayland, MA, and a staff chaplain at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. She is the co-convener of the Jewish Climate Action Network, a member of the Jewcology.org editorial board, a board member of Shomrei Bereishit: Rabbis and Cantors for the Earth, and the co-creator of Gathering in Grief: The Israel / Gaza Conflict.

Cranberry Shabbat 

Saturday, October 25,  Raindate, November 1

Wachusett Reservoir, Boylston

Join us for our annual Cranberry Shabbat. We will intermix songs and prayers with wild cranberry picking, and share a picnic lunch at the end. Please bring something to share and your own drinks and utensils. (Warm soup sounds good for a picnic in October!) Also bring containers for the cranberries. Most of our pickings will be given to a homeless shelter for their Thanksgiving dinner. There may be muddy spots, so be prepared footwear-wise, and it could be windy and chilly along the water. Please RSVP to Ma’yan Tikvah for details.

 
Eternal God, You created earth and heavens with mercy, and blew the breath of life into animals and humans. We were created amidst a world of wholeness, a world called “very good,” pure and beautiful, but now your many works are being erased by us from the book of life.

Not by our righteousness do we plead our prayers before You, Holy One of All, for we have sinned, we have despoiled, we have destroyed.

And so we confess together our collective sins, and ask for forgiveness:

For the sin which we have committed before You intentionally or unintentionally;

And for the sin which we have committed before You inadvertently;

For the sin which we have committed before You openly or secretly,

And for the sin which we have committed before You knowingly or unknowingly;

For the sin which we have committed before You, and before our children and grandchildren, by desecrating the sacred Earth,

And for the sin which we have committed before You of going beyond being fruitful and multiplying to overfilling the planet;

For the sin which we have committed before You by putting comfort above conscience,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by putting convenience above compassion;

For the sin we have committed against You by believing we are doing enough,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by reaping the dividends of unsustainability;

For the sin which we have committed before You through fear of speaking out,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by eating and drinking without concern for Earth and its hungry and thirsty;

For the sin which we have committed before You by saying we don’t have time,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by staying alive beyond the boundaries of our allotted life span:

For all of these, God of pardon, pardon us, forgive us, atone for us.

For the sin which we have committed before You by not pressuring our elected officials,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by gaining wealth through fossil fuels;

For the sin which we have committed before You by denying the impact of our white privilege,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by closing our hearts and eyes to injustice;

For the sin which we have committed before You by filling land and ocean with filth, toxins and garbage,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by extinguishing forever species which You saved from the waters of the flood;

For the sin which we have committed before You by razing forests and trees, rivers and mountains,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by turning the atmosphere into a chastening rod;

For the sin which we have committed before You by making desolate habitats that give life to every living soul,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by a confused heart;

For all of these, God of pardon, pardon us, forgive us, atone for us.

For the sin which we have committed before You by thinking separately of US and THEM,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by using more than our share of Earth’s resources;

For the sin which we have committed before You by considering human life more important than other forms of life,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by being deceived by those with power;

For the sin which we have committed before You by not finding the courage to overcome the reality of the lobbies,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by wanting to act only in ways that will serve us economically;

For the sin which we have committed before You by failing to create sufficient local, green jobs,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by trying to convince people rather than drawing them in;

For the sin which we have committed before You by not thinking into the future when we act,

And for the sin which we have committed before You by living in relative safety and not being caring of others;

For all of these, God of pardon, pardon us, forgive us, atone for us.

And yet, we know that we can only achieve forgiveness from You, O G!d of All That Is after we have sought forgiveness from our fellow living beings, and so, in order to achieve atonement, forgiveness, and pardon,

Help us, Holy One, to enter into loving respectful conversation,

Help us to create deep conversations,

And help us to listen to people.

Help us, Merciful One, to become empowered to talk and to connect,

Help us to be creative in how we start the conversation,

And help us to use our sacred texts as a foundation for our conversations.

Help us, Compassionate One, to start where people are and transition to climate change,

Help us to use humor as a vehicle of engaging people,

Help us to start with experience of nature and end with responsibility of saving world.

In order to achieve atonement, forgiveness, and pardon,

Help us, Holy One, to acknowledge that we are all in this together,

Help us to celebrate the positives happening in the world.

Help us, Source of All, to build coalitions,

Help us to create partnerships where we see other people’s needs.

Help us, Eternal One, to organize local solutions,

And help us to recognize that ownership and collective action are important.

Open our eyes to see the majesty of Your creation! Then we will praise you as it is written: “How manifold are Your works, Holy One! You made them all with wisdom; the earth is filled with what you hold.”

Please, Source of All, protect all living beings, in the shade of your wings give us refuge. Renew the face of the earth, save the weave and fullness of life. Please, Mysterious One, remove the heart of stone from our flesh, and set within us a heart of flesh, that we may behold the Godly therein. Grant us wisdom and courage to heal and to watch over this garden of life, to make it thrive under the heavens.

Help us to realize that we are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

Help us to realize that we are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

Adapted from the traditional Jewish High Holiday liturgy and works by Rabbi Lawrence Troster, Rabbi Daniel Nevins (which I found at neohasid.org), and, at the suggestion of Rabbi Judy Weiss, material from the Jewish Climate Action Network of Boston created with the help of Gary Rucinski.

Note: Hyperlinks above are to organizations that work to help the environment in ways that bear some relationship to the selected text. This is a work in progress, and I hope to add more links. If you have suggestions, please email them to rabbikza@verizon.net.

Rabbi Katy Z. Allen is the founder and leader of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope in Wayland, MA, and a staff chaplain at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. She is the co-convener of the Jewish Climate Action Network, a member of the Jewcology.org editorial board, a board member of Shomrei Bereishit: Rabbis and Cantors for the Earth, and the co-creator of Gathering in Grief: The Israel / Gaza Conflict.

Outdoor High Holiday Services with Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope

Rosh HaShanah Day 1, Thursday, September 25, 9:30 AM, Cedar Hill Camp

265 Beaver Street, Waltham, (accessible by MBTA bus)

Click here to carpool to this service.

Rosh HaShanah Potluck Dinner and Shmita Seder, Thursday, September 25, 6:30 PM, Location TBD, in Wayland

Rosh HaShanah Day 2, Friday, September 26, 10 AM, Greenways Conservation Area, 60 Green Way, Wayland

Kol Nidre Service, Friday, October 3, 6:45 PM, Church of the Holy Spirit, 169 Rice Road, Wayland

Click here to carpool to this service.

Yom Kippur Morning, Saturday, October 4, 9:30 AM, Cedar Hill Camp, 265 Beaver Street, Waltham, (accessible by MBTA bus)

Click here to carpool to this service.

Neilah Service and Break-fast, Saturday, October 4, 6:30 PM, Church of the Holy Spirit, 169 Rice Road, Wayland; Break-fast will be at a nearby private home

Ma’yan Tikvah celebrates the High Holidays in the woods with morning services on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur as well as Kol Nidre services on Erev Yom Kippur. The services are led by Rabbi Katy Allen and are a combination of traditional and nontraditional; they are informal and participatory for those who wish to add their voices. Morning services are held outside, or if the weather requires it, under an outdoor pavilion. There is time to sing, to appreciate the natural world around us, to meditate and pray, to read and discuss the Torah portion, to hear the sound of the Sofar on Rosh HaShanah, and to remember our loved ones during Yizkor on Yom Kippur. On the first day of Rosh HaShanah, our services are followed by a pot-luck lunch and then tashlich.

We will have a very different service on the second day of Rosh HaShanah – a hike interspersed with meditations, prayers, discussion, and the blowing of the shofar, and the day will include a picnic lunch – bring your own. We will through the fields and woods and end with a picnic near the Sudbury River.

Our Kol Nidre service is mostly indoors, but if weather permits we go outside for part of the service. We will also have a short Neilah service at the end of Yom Kippur followed by a pot-luck break-fast. All are welcome, including families with children. The sites for the first day of Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur are handicap accessible.

For more information or to register, go to www.mayantikvah.org and click on Shabbat, Holidays, and Classes, or call 508-358-5996 or email rabbi@mayantikvah.org.

I am in my favorite place at my favorite time: in the garden, in the morning, before the cars have started up, before the noise of lawnmowers and leaf blowers. The crickets are singing, the birds responding. The rising sun’s light filters through the leaves. A beginning.

It has been a tough year in the garden. An endless winter caused a late start and temperatures have been cooler than usual. A call from critter to critter that I cannot hear lets them know there is bounty on my corner. Maybe it’s because the peach tree lost its flowers in a hard spring rain, but squirrels have eaten a fair amount of my produce this year, taking a bit of a turnip and leaving the rest (yeah, I’m not surprised). Mice, too, have traversed here. I have never seen one, but my garden helpers have. Let’s not forget the birds.

At the same time, the blackberries went wild. Literally. I have cut them back and dug up new plants several times. Cucumbers abound. Arugula sings its symphony. The carrots are fat and rich. I could go on. But what hits me this year is the contrast between disappointment and satisfaction; the moments of wondering why I do this at all, pitched against the incredible feeling of gratitude when I bag up 4 bags of produce filled with veggies, fruits and herbs, for our local food pantry. When neighbors come by and tell me they’ve been feasting on the blackberries. Who wouldn’t?

This is the rhythm of the Elul and High Holy Day season, the time when we take stock. How many things did not turn out the way we wanted them to this year? How many grapes did we plant that turned sour? (Most have mine have been chomped on by critters.) What do we do? Do we become depressed or disheartened? Angry? Do we give up? Or do we plant more seeds?

Perhaps we do all of the above. Perhaps we need to feel the grief and disappointment of our losses and our failures. Perhaps we need to feel the frustration. But Elul and the High Holy Day season tell us this is only part of the process. For us to fulfill the essence of this time of year demands that we somehow find a way to get to the other side. Maybe that includes a change of project, or maybe it means finding a new way in the same project.

I sometimes think that it is all the difficulties involved in growing food that inspired our Jewish ancestry to move away from its agricultural roots. This was revived, however, with the kibbutz movement in Israel’s pioneer days, and is experiencing further revival all over the Jewish world today. As we demand more sustainable lifestyles and healthier, more affordable foods, we are revitalizing our synagogue and neighborhood networks to feed ourselves and the hungry around us.

Even as I write this I observe a critter that has found her way into the grapevines. I go over to see the culprit. A squirrel. She takes her time untangling herself from the vines, climbs up the adjacent telephone pole, and when far enough away from me to rest in safety, turns. I see the bulge in her mouth. She takes out her dessert – a nice, fat purple grape, and eats it in front of me.

Not all of our plans will fruit the way we hope or plan. But this is the season to harvest the best of our works this year, and to plan and plant again, for a fuller, richer, more bountiful harvest in the year to come.

May your Elul and the year to come be rich with new ideas and renewed energy to plant and see them bear fruit.

Robin Damsky is the rabbi of West Suburban Temple Har Zion in River Forest, IL, (wsthz.org) where in the temple garden’s first year, congregants donated over 120 pounds of produce to the hungry. Rabbi Damsky educates others while cultivating and donating her own food as well from her organic, edible landscape. She is the mother of Sarah.

My King, where do I quest for comfort and consolation

in times of weariness and aching of my soul?

Where do I seek wisdom when the burden of errors

regrets and sadness accompany my hours?

Where do I cherish and find refuge and sanctity

when I am transparent and exposed to myself?

My Lord, Your streams wash over aching,

Your mountains call to look up to You,

Your grasses and undergrowth cushion the heel and every step,

Your flowers bring joyful response to all inquiry,

Your trees are time worn standing presence ,

all are Your reminders and the presence of Your will.

Your sparks in nature both embedded and revealed

remain always as a reminder of Your presence here,

of our connection, oneness and our journey home.

Elohim, Your earth, all nature is both dwelling place

and shared identity as all that is here speaks of You.

My seeking is ever satisfied as You and I are here,

in creation, naturally, forever one.

Copyright 2014 Judith E. Felsen, Ph.D.

Judith Felsen holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, certificates in hypnotherapy, NLP, Eriksonian Hypnosis, and Sacred Plant Medicine. She is a dancer of sacred circle dance, an AMC kitchen crew , taril information volunteer, trail adopter, and daily student of Torah and Judaism. She is enrolled in Rabbinical Seminary International. She has studied Buddhism, A Course in Miracles, and other mystical traditions. She is a hiker, walker, runner, and lives in the White Mountains with her husband and two large dogs. Her life centers around her Jewish studies and daily application.

We will be the change we want to see

I am squatting

I am wringing laundry with my hands

I am picking chunks of dirt from the soles of my feet

I am learning to smell the open sewer when I breathe in and out

I am walking

I am jostling in a vikram, in a small car that must have the air conditioning switched to off in order to make it up the Himalayan Mountain where love calls

I am exhausted

I am exhilarated

I am joyful

I am fretting as we weave ourselves up the steep slope and you can see where the cars have already fallen off the cliff

I am terrified when I come upon a mighty pack of horses thrown into the road that barely fits one car—

Let alone the screaming families that want to test their fate on these trails that have seen no rain yet— not me

I am sore

I am flexible

I am sleepless and full of thoughts; I need a vacation from my mind

This landscape that changes when I turn the corner now, the next moment and the moment after that, this landscape is heavy and full and I feel that way—

Pregnant, ready to give birth

To ideas and poems and thoughts and love for those that come to share the same dust and dirt—

For a day, a week or months at a time—

One man who will live like a baba

I have found the nomadic family from which I once sprung

We walked and walked looking for a place to set camp

We the family

The agents of change

Aged and ageless are we

Tireless and tired

Policy makers, activists, farmers, and worker bees

We will be the change we want to see

Andrea Cadwell MA, MSc is a consultant for non- profits and NGO’s worldwide. She focuses on sustainable economic development and resiliency in addition to policy development and implementation.

I’d like to speak about Joy.  I know that Elul is upon us; a time for relentless self-reflection, spurred on by the blasts of shofar.  And yet, the rabbis in their complexity have added another dimension to Elul, Love. Remember the acronym for Elul?  It’s from the Song of Songs, Ani l’dodi v’dodi li - I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.  Reciprocal love is spiraling back and forth right here in Elul along with our lists of how we missed the mark.  Isn’t this worthy of attention?  What might it mean?

I’m not sure, but it’s certainly not insignificant.  Rabbi Akiva said that if all of Tanach (the five books plus all the prophets plus all the writings) is the Holy Temple, then the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies!  The Song of Songs is sensuous and loving, filled with sexual desire and yearning; lovers are seeking fulfillment on every page.  We all know that steamy passion can easily burn and destroy, and yet, Rabbi Akiva holds this up as the archetypal place of holiness.  Blessed Be.

This is why I’m turning to joy this Elul.  The Song of Songs is reminding us that loving and desirous energy defines our relationship with the world, with the Source of Life.  Far from being unrequited, it is given back fully.  And then, when I receive the love I’m desiring, I feel fully me, fully seen, feeling even fuller than me!  I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.  This face of loving joy is also a face of Teshuvah.

I heard that the great psychoanalyst Milton Ericson tells a story of a mean nasty man who never smiled.  He became thunderstruck and lovesick with the new school teacher in town.  He asked to see her formally, and she said, only if you clean up your ways and try to smile once in awhile.  The goofiest grin came over his face, kindness filled his heart and he never looked back.  They lived happily ever after, smiling and holding hands like young fools until the end of their days.  Who says love is not powerful!

But wait, if Rabbi Akiva is saying that this great love is our birthright, then it also means there is nothing to earn.  I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.  Our very natural relationship with the world itself is to love and be loved in return merely because we are alive!  Why is it so hard to imagine and carry this intense level of joyful loving?

Teshuvah can help me learn the ways that I actively block this joyous knowing; the many ways that I pickle myself in worry and bewitch myself in fear.  The ways we are unaware that our lifted hand blocks the sun and yet we can only whine and wonder why the light is so dim.

The social scientist Brene Brown adds another facet.  She asked why is it so hard to maintain our joy?  Her research discovered our fear of the vulnerability that leads to grief.  She noticed a widespread and uncanny ability to use fantasies of disaster to try and inoculate ourselves.  You know, the way we can look at something beautiful and say, ‘uh-oh, what’s coming’.  The sad truth is that these fantasies do not protect us at all, they just rob us of our joy.

Amazingly, her remedy, her tikkun is gratitude.  Practices of gratitude in the moment; utterances of thankfulness for what is here right now, irregardless of what may happen in the future.  Hmmmh, the rabbis teach that 100 blessings a day keeps the Dr. away (or something like that-smiles). A good practice for Elul, eh?  With blessings of gratitude, I can remember the utter uniqueness that is life; the perpetual joyous singing that is the symphony of the natural world.  Fortified with joy, I can face the stark truth about the many ways that I and my community inflict personal and planetary harm.  Like Milton Ericson’s mean man, If I’m bathed in love who knows what I will be capable of!

Let the Joy deeds of gratitude be fruitful and multiply! As Rumi said, “Let the beauty we love be what we do.  There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.”  In the name of Joy, let’s bless all that we hold precious… the Rabbi’s blessings, yes, and even more!  A child’s song, a friends laughter, cooking (and eating) a special meal for/with loved ones, silent welcoming of dawn and dusk, calling good morning to the birds, saying Shehechianu when the Junco’s come in the fall and the constellation Orion appears overhead, when the chicory blooms in July and the tomatoes ripen in August are all for me special joyful moments worthy of honoring with a blessing of gratitude.  What other myriads of blessings would you like to add?

May your Elul be meaningful and filled with the joy that only love can bring.  Here’s a joyous love poem adapted from psalm 150.

Jump, Sing Out,

Raise Joy, right here in your chair.

Celebrate life’s source

in your home, in green fields,

at rivers edge, from high ledges.
Remember how we are supported,

as lilies in open water.
Blast your car horn,

turn up the radio,

sing loud with the windows rolled down.

Whisper love at night. Remember Nothing,

than moan with delight,
whistle with puckered lips,

click your tongue.

Tap one, no, stomp

both your feet;

pop fingers, clap hands, slap knees,

hoot, howl, bang your chest,
clash and rattle your tin pots.

Raise joy high with this holy commotion.
With every single breath. Hallelujah.  –Adapted from psalm 150 by Maggid David Arfa

The weekly Haftorah readings follow the story of the Israelites after they crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land.  The writing styles vary greatly, from poetry to historical prose.

Of particular note are writings from the time of the divided kingdom. Conquests of the Northern Kingdom of Israel and the Southern Kingdom of Judah were seen by the prophets as divine punishment for failure to follow the Torah.  The writings from this time are full of harsh rebukes and biting metaphors. This is the type of reading found in the weeks leading up to Tisha B’Av.

Once Tisha B’Av is over and the High Holidays are approaching,  the tone changes. Both Torah and Haftorah readings become infused with literary beauty – the lyrical prose of Deuteronomy accompanied by the lovely poetry of the late Isaiah, filled with images of nature’s grandeur as a reflection of the divine, beckoning us to look around at the world and the heavens and there find G-d.

This turning away from harshness towards hope and tenderness reflects the history of the period.  Seventy years after the destruction of Solomon’s Temple and exile in Babylonia, the ascendancy of Persia brought a king who allowed the Jews to return to their homeland.  Isaiah’s writings from that time offer consolation and hope for a future of life back in the homeland.

Thus Teshuvah – a return from exile to home, from harshness to spiritual comfort, and, for us, a turning from the concerns of ordinary life to a remembering of the divine – is undertaken in a milieu of beauty which awakens the soul to the process of positive change.

We know that the perception of beauty affects us deeply.  We crave beauty, we seek it out, we spend our precious moments dwelling on that which offers it.  So, for example, the harmonies of violin music are so arresting as to bring tears to our eyes.  A Dutch still life entices us with its intricacies and balance; time stops while we gaze at it. Intense patterns on flowers are gorgeous beyond human imagination. Birds’ plumage dazzles us with striking elaborations.  The music of  synagogue prayers draws us in; we sing and the notes hum inside us. We gaze at colors of a sunset sky; we rush outside to see a rainbow.

We perceive beauty and drink spiritual nectar – tasty, nourishing, filling.  Every single human being is endowed with this faculty, through whatever sense functions within them.

On the physical level, there seems to be no biological utility to this capacity we have for deep appreciation of certain “results” of our five senses. Call it a gift from G-d, a blessing.  But still, nothing in biology is maintained unless it endows the species with something positive to strengthen and perpetuate itself.  The biologic utility of the pleasures of food, sex, etc seems obvious. But what about the pleasures of seeing or hearing beauty in nature or in the artistic creations of humankind?

This pleasure feels like an instinctual form of love, an immediate response on a tiny scale.  Suppose you come across a wild iris in the woods.  The iris is existing happily in its own environment; it doesn’t need you for food or water. You find it beautiful, it pleases you.  You have experienced a quantum of love for this little iris. Now you care about it. A connection has been made.

A piece of music stirs us – how beautiful! It was composed by a human being, played by other human beings. We don’t know them; they may look nothing like us. And yet, some of that sense of beauty, that love we felt for the music spills out onto the humans who created it.  A connection has been made.

Look out over a swath of treetops. The pattern of greens and rounded shapes is so pleasing.  We can’t help but love the trees, plus the whole web of nature that sustains them and relies on them.  A connection has been made.

Our ability to take pleasure from the natural world and from artistic creations of humankind creates threads of connections  between each of us and the myriad elements of nature.

Beauty does have biological utility. It is the antidote to narcissism and loneliness.  It connects us to the web of existence in the world, causes us to care about it, love it, and of course, do everything we can to preserve it.

Genesis was right.  We are stewards of the world.  We are the only species that can preserve it or cause large scale destruction of it.  Look for beauty in the world and there you will find the passion to preserve it.

Lois Rosenthal is a member of Temple Tifereth Israel Winthrop where she teaches Hebrew School, does Bar/Bat Mitzvah tutoring, and participates in Shabbat services.

I wasn’t sure visiting Yad Vashem, Israel’s official Holocaust memorial, would leave an impression on me; after all, I had heard it all before. Not only that I had absorbed the notion that all of humanity’s reckless violent ways were behind us. Genocide, alas, is so common that it has its own major in college, which, unfortunately, does not fall under archaeology. Remarkably, this practice continues to this day.

The typical story arc of the Holocaust goes like this: those awful Germans wanted to murder all the Jews and almost got away with it. That’s why it’s so important that Israel be the Jewish homeland. Truth is, that’s not how it happened. Our Yad Vashem tour guide emphasized two central principles that shaped post-Great-War Germany. The first was “it was a process.” From ideas to curfews to ghettos and pogroms to work camps to death camps, these activities started small but gradually intensified. The second was “groupthink” or peer-pressure, as I like to call it. This also intensified over time where, at first, one might simply be given a funny look for non-conformity; quickly, the consequence was being sent to the same work camps as the other “undesirables.”

What struck me was that both of these principles are surprisingly universal. Society’s norms tend to have inertia and thus, it takes time for them to change (i.e. it’s a process). Similarly, conformity (the result of peer-pressure) is a feature, sometimes more prevalent than others, but one which nonetheless appears consistently across societies throughout time. In light of this, the images around me began to take on a different meaning. Where once the people behind the barbed wire were innocent and those in front of it evil it became clear that the Germans were not born to be cruel just as much as the Jews, Gypsies and handicap were not born to be victims. Contrary to Nazi doctrine it was not genetics that determined the outcome but circumstance and societal forces that steered the paths of oppressed and oppressor. Where innocent Germans once stood, in hindsight they look pretty guilty. Not all of them, and certainly not equally, but the responsibility lies across societal echelons. Atrocities do not commit themselves.

Where the Holocaust is used to justify a Jewish state where Jews can be safe, the lesson I got was that what Jews (and frankly all ethnicities) need is a country where simply every ethnicity is safe. If we, today, can see the pure humanity of the people that stood in the Warshaw ghetto and ask ourselves, “Why didn’t they just let them live like everyone else?” then we must ask the same question of today’s ghettos. We may have no relationship to them, and yet, the way to treat them is clear: just the same as all other humans.

The quote that titles this essay does not refer to murdering Jews and comes from neither a 1939 German nor a 1945 German. It comes from my relative and was made, with a shrug, in reference to the inhabitants of Gaza. Euphemistically known as “mowing the lawn”, let’s just call it what it is: genocide. This teshuva, let us take a good look in the mirror. How are we supporting genocide? More importantly, how will we stop it?

Can an honest resident of the USA look in the mirror and not find genocide? Not find ecocide? Not find harm to future generations by how we treat each other and the Earth that nourishes us all?

I think it’s worth reflecting on.

Alexander Volfson, a humanist and Earth-ist, loves finding ways to bring folks together to work toward sustainable lifestyles. Alexander is a co-founder of  Transition Framingham. When he’s not fixing things (from appliances to bicycles to computers) or planting them (for a permaculture designed garden), he’s biking somewhere or learning something new.

Whatever your source of despair, whenever your heart shrinks from bold, firm action, remember atonement and returning to God means affirming hope. Remember the old joke about the man on the roof during rising floodwaters? Drown fear, squelch everything you know, grab the helicopter ladder, and be rescued.

Rabbi Judy Weiss lives in Brookline, MA with her husband Alan. She teaches Tanakh and volunteers with Citizens Climate Lobby.

What is the shape of time? This question may sound strange, but it actually guides us to understand the process of teshuvah, our great task at this time of year.

In one dimension, time is circular, repeating in endless cycles. “And the seasons they go round and round…” Every year in the natural calendar, the same seasonal patterns repeat at the same times. In the Jewish calendar, we observe the same holidays, rituals, and rhythms each year. In the process of teshuvah we return to our self, coming home to who we were before we drifted away over the course of the year. Every Rosh Hashana, as we return to that moment in the circle, we return to the self we have been on every other Rosh Hashana; the days are cosmically connected by being the same point on the circle.

Yet, we are also moving forward along the arrow of time. Life is always in transition, and no moment ever recurs again exactly. Winter may return to the same spot in the same forest, but the trees are a year older, and some branches have fallen, and new ones have emerged. We return to ourselves each year in teshuvah, but we are also in a different place: we have had new experiences, made new mistakes, learned new lessons. Every Rosh Hashana is entirely different from every other Rosh Hashana. In the Jewish conception of time, we are always moving toward a better world, the Olam Haba, the “world that is coming.” Joanna Macy calls this movement from our current state of affairs to the world we envision the Great Turning, a “shift from the industrial growth society to a life-sustaining civilization.”

So is time a circle or an arrow? It is both. Time is a helix, the shape you see on a corkscrew; it moves forward along a line, but circles around as it does so. Each Rosh Hashana, we are aligned with all of the Roshei Hashana of past and future years, but we are also in a unique place in time, that never was exactly before and will never be exactly again.

Teshuvah, then, needs to recognize both processes. It is a returning, coming back to ourselves year after year no matter where we’ve been. And it is a turning, perhaps even a Great Turning — turning away from the mistakes and triumphs of the past and turning toward the next steps in our ultimate mission: to bring about the redemption of the world.
Daniel Kieval is finishing three years of work as a Jewish environmental educator with the Teva program in Falls Village, CT.

by Rabbi Regina Sandler-Phillips

Ecology and economy, spirituality and social justice are directly connected in our Jewish values of heshbon (accountability).  Every time we open our wallets or check our bank balances, we face issues of heshbon — no less than when we search our souls (heshbon hanefesh) during this Season of Turning.

How are we “spending” each day of our lives?

The ancient sage Ben Zoma (Mishnah Avot 4:1) taught that the wise are those who learn from every person; the brave are those who control (literally, “occupy”) their own impulses; the rich are those who rejoice in their own portions; and the honorable are those who honor creation and its creatures.

This integrated four-fold teaching offers a blueprint for sustainability in the coming year of sh’mitah / release.  Each of us can learn how to appreciate our abundance, to moderate our consumption, to discern which of our expenditures truly honor creation and its creatures — and to control our impulses regarding those purchases that do not.

Agricultural rhythms of tithing through the sabbatical cycle have given us the financial ethics of wealth redistribution on a proportional basis.  In order to share our wealth proportionately today, we need clarity about our actual discretionary spending and our place in the world economy.  Membership in the global “one percent” is a surprisingly low bar for affluent Americans — and experience has shown that peer support is needed to bring this spiritual, financial and environmental heshbon to the next level.

Welcome to Nedivut Tzedek / Generous Justice, an intergenerational network of Jewish learning circles for just giving.  Our circles renew the Jewish values and practices of heshbon through study, storytelling, supportive action / reflection, and cultural development.   Participants learn how we vote with our daily money choices for the state of our world, and how to mobilize the power of those choices for social change as well as for greater personal fulfillment.

Generous Justice circles are taking root within local communities through a series of local outreach programs, building momentum toward a retreat-based leadership training in August 2015.  A resource manual will be available beyond the 2015 training to extend the reach of Generous Justice to additional communities of concern.

When our personal tzedakah meets the ethical metric of proportional giving, we discover how much we can really afford to contribute toward the causes most important to us.  After that, setting distribution priorities becomes a process of ongoing action / reflection in the service of change.  We put our money where our mouths, hearts and minds are, making thoughtful course adjustments as appropriate — and we let the earth rest from our relentless consumption.

Throughout the coming sabbatical year, Generous Justice will bring together Jews across generations, income levels, personal temperaments, spiritual orientations and political ideologies to support each other in realizing our full giving potentials.  Like our ancestors, we will start from wherever we are, with whatever we have — and keep the issues in proportion.

© 2014 by Rabbi Regina Sandler-Phillips

Rabbi Regina Sandler-Phillips is the project director of Nedivut Tzedek / Generous Justice, and the executive director of WAYS OF PEACE Community Resources in Brooklyn, New York.

Elul is here. It represents a chance for heightened introspection, an opportunity to do teshuva and improve our lives, before the “Days of Awe,” the days of judgment, the “High holidays” of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The shofar is blown every morning (except on Shabbat) in synagogues during the month of Elul to awaken us from slumber, to remind us to consider where we are in our lives and to urge us to make positive changes.

How should we respond to Elul today? How should we respond when we hear reports almost daily of severe, often record-breaking, heat waves, droughts, wildfires, floods, and storms; when atmospheric carbon dioxide levels have reached 400 parts per million (ppm) for the first time in human history, far above the 350 ppm that climate experts believe is safe, when polar ice caps and glaciers are melting far faster than projections of climate experts; when some climatologists are warning that we could be close to a tipping point when climate change could spiral out of control with disastrous consequences, unless major changes are soon made; when we appear to also be on the brink of major food, water, and energy scarcities; and when, despite all of the above, so many people are in denial, in effect “rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic as we approach a giant iceberg”?

I believe that we should make it a priority to do all that we can to awaken the world to the dangers and the urgency of doing everything possible to shift our imperiled planet to a sustainable path. We should urge that tikkun olam (the healing and repair of the world) be a central focus in all aspects of Jewish life today.

We should contact rabbis, Jewish educators, and other Jewish leaders and urge that they increase awareness of the threats and how Jewish teachings can be applied to avert impending disasters. We should write letters to editors, call talk shows, question politicians, and in every other way possible, stress that we can’t continue the policies that have been so disastrous.

The afternoon service for Yom Kippur includes the book of Jonah, who was sent by God to Nineveh to urge the people to repent and change their evil ways in order to avoid their destruction. Today the whole world is Nineveh, in danger of annihilation and in need of repentance and redemption, and each one of us must be a Jonah, with a mission to warn the world that it must turn from greed, injustice, and idolatry, so that we can avoid a global catastrophe.

Richard H. Schwartz, Ph.D., is Professor Emeritus of College of Staten Island, author of Judaism and Vegetarianism, Who Stole My Religion? Revitalizing Judaism and Applying Jewish Values to Help Heal Our Imperiled Planet, other books, and 200 articles at JewishVeg.com/schwartz, President Emeritus, Jewish Vegetarians of North America (www.JewishVeg.com); President, Society Of Ethical and Religious Vegetarians (SERV), and associate producer of A SACRED DUTY (www.aSacredDuty.com).

My compost bins are so much more than just a place where compost happens. The area beside the three wire and wood bins is place where I often feel my father’s spirit – he was raised on a farm, and though he became a professional, gardening was in his blood, and he spent much of his spare time in his garden and his orchard.
 

Yet, it is not just the reminders of my father or the sense of his hovering spirit that gives meaning to my compost bins. They are symbolic of so much – which may be more the truer reason that I think of my father whenever I take out the compost.

We gardeners deposit plant food wastes, garden trimmings, and chopped up leaves into our compost bins. We let the rains come to add water, and from time to time we add a bit of soil. Then we let nature take its course, and before too long, all of that “waste” has turned into dark, crumbly humus that will enrich the soil of our garden. The leaves, the banana and orange peels, the corn husks – all this and so much more has been transformed from something seemingly useless, a by-product, into something good, useful, and enriching.

And when my heart is feeling heavy, and I sit quietly beside my compost bins, I, too, get transformed. The grief and sadness in my heart are lifted, and I find myself once again able to be useful, to myself and to others. I am able to forge ahead into new territory. My relationship with the Holy One of Blessing has deepened.

This, in essence, is what teshuvah is about, turning the excess materials of our hearts and souls – those feelings of sadness, anger, jealousy, and more – into a deeper and closer relationship with G!d – re-turning to G!d – and in the process finding ourselves enriched.

It has been, I believe, through my connection with my father, who passed away almost 40 years ago, that I have learned to grieve. But grief is complex, it is not a one-time endeavor, it is a mosaic, and it returns, often when we least expect it. It shows up in new ways in response to new losses, so that frequently throughout our lives, something new and different needs to be transformed.

Thus it is for all of us, and thus it is in life. And so, our tradition provides the vehicle of the month of Elul leading up to Rosh HaShanah and all the days of the High Holidays, to give us the opportunity to let our compost be transformed, let our grief, fear, and despair be released, and let our hearts open wider, in an ever deepening relationship with the Mystery That Is.

Compost happens. May our transformation also happen.

Rabbi Katy Z. Allen is the founder and leader of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope in Wayland, MA, and a staff chaplain at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. She is also the co-convener of the Jewish Climate Action Network and the co-creator of Gathering in Grief: The Israel / Gaza Conflict.

In days of Av anticpatin’

I have done my exploration

searching, seeking digging deeper

all to clear the space as greeter.

From the bottom of my looking

I can sense great times are coming

soon our King will sure arrive

and in fields we both will thrive.

Therefore now and always ever

will this earth be seen as heaven

by all those who now know its glitter

shimmering sparks both there and hither.

May we join in joyful meeting

in all lands we’ve tilled this season.

Welcome King, we greet your visit

together harvest is on our list.

Earth Your place which is our home

hosts us as now our thanks we show.

With gratitude to our King,

on whom we are joyfully dependent,

and to the planet He offers with us

which we call our home.

Copyright 2014 Judith Felsen, Ph.D.

Judith Felsen holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, certificates in hypnotherapy, NLP, Eriksonian Hypnosis, and Sacred Plant Medicine. She is a dancer of sacred circle dance, an AMC kitchen crew , taril information volunteer, trail adopter, and daily student of Torah and Judaism. She is enrolled in Rabbinical Seminary International. She has studied Buddhism, A Course in Miracles, and other mystical traditions. She is a hiker, walker, runner, and lives in the White Mountains with her husband and two large dogs. Her life centers around her Jewish studies and daily application.

The meteorologists predicted a possible heavy rainstorm and suggested bringing an umbrella to work.  But as I drove home from an interfaith conference, I got a call from my husband announcing: “ You’ll have to swim home – everything is flooded here.” My heart stopped beating for a minute when I heard this, realizing that all my rabbinic books and papers, many photograph albums including those from my parents’ lives in pre-Holocaust Europe, all our children’s albums and  memorabilia, my father’s award-winning black and white mounted photos, and beautiful maple wood furniture which pre-dated me – all that was DOWN THERE!

But for now, I had to focus on getting home somehow – and indeed, the roadblocks on the main streets and highways were everywhere, with 12 feet of water at a nearby highway underpass near our home. Parking the car at a school several blocks away, I trudged through knee-deep water, only to find my husband standing waist-deep  in the middle of the lake created on our street, valiantly trying to hold back the debris so the storm sewers could drain in front of our house.  All the basements in our small suburb and several other surrounding ones had flooded with 3-5 feet of contaminated water. The irony of it all only hit me two days later when the curbsides where piled high with water-logged garbage – our community was nationally  known for being a leader in recycling ! – yet now was contributing to a huge increase of  landfill acreage with all these destroyed belongings.

Like Noah, I looked for signs of a renewal of life and dry land. This morning I found my “white dove” in the shape of the humongous white hydrangea trees and bushes and the fragrant white lily hostas blooming expansively in front of my house. Our garden did remind me that life  goes on and there is beauty and hope to be found around us, in just letting things go naturally.

As we enter the month of Elul, reflecting on what this all means and where we can improve our lives – and also entering the year of Shmita, of releasing the land to rest – I find several clear messages coming through:

First: Live simply and examine  what you are “attached” to.

Second: We have had an Oral Tradition accompanying our Written Law – perhaps it is time for us to focus on this in a new way, relying on our memories to tell the stories, archiving what is really important on computer memory sticks, and relying on the vast internet libraries instead of creating our own paper jungles at home.

Third: Thank and show appreciation for our neighbors, friends, and families for whatever ways they support us; be on the lookout constantly for  ways to help others, quietly and in advance of a request.

Fourth: While we never can fully understand the ways of God, we  know that if we truly rely on God’s help and direction, it will come; let us be patient and trusting as our ancestors were when they could not plant for an entire year. We will survive – and even prosper!