Anticipation Is Bad, But Reality Still Sucks

It's here. The week of darkness. Yesterday morning my alarm went off to a total lack of sunlight streaming in my window. Today, the same thing. My daylight saving headache has set in.  It will last until the sun comes back.  Of course there's more to this than just me. Traffic reports yesterday showed a large upswing in crashes yesterday. The news reported what we already know- study after study has shown the body simply does not adjust to the loss of sleep, and more importantly change in light. The Monday after we turn the clocks up is a very dangerous day.  Next year we should all stay home and in bed until the sun comes back.

Tales From the Rabbis' Table

Today we had a perfect "Rabbis' Table" moment. It was Shabbat afternoon. Jesse and Gav had just come upstairs after some fierce ping pong. Keren and Sean were finishing up a game of Battleship, and I was eating seudah shlishit (the 3rd Shabbat meal, which, in our home, gets spread throughout the afternoon as we each get hungry). We were discussing nusach and Kaddish. Sean sang a bit of Kaddish Neilah for Gavi to repeat. It's a wonderful Kaddish, especially neat since it's done only once a year. Gavi repeated after him. Keren piped up with "That was almost it." Not missing a beat, Gavi responded, "Yeah, well it was better than your revi'i." Trash talk in the rabbis' house is all about nusach and Torah ta'amim (aka troupe). How proud am I?

Shabbat Zachor- Be Joyous

Vayikra el-Moshe va’y’dabeir A-donai eilav meiOhel Moeid leimor. Dabeir el-b’nei Yisrael… 

And A-donai called to Moshe and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting saying. “Speak to the children of Israel… (Vayikra 1:1-2) 

Vayikra is called Leviticus in Greek and Latin, the book of the Levi’im. This name implies a book of instruction to Aaron and his sons on the ritual of sacrifice in the Mishkan. However, it goes well beyond that. The Hebrew, Vayikra, meaning “And God called…” shows clearly that, as with the rest of the books of the Torah, Vayikra is a book for all Jews. It is not limited to a sub-group within our people. 

When we study the sacrifices today, they seem archaic and out of date. Rambam points out that sacrifices were the primary form of expression in the ancient world. It has entered every culture across the globe. Vayikra elevates sacrifice above the influence of idolatry, from the physical to the spiritual plane. (See notes on Sefer Vayikra) Sacrifices are no longer food for the Gods, but an opportunity for individuals to express their spirituality and to seek holiness. It represents, not God’s need, but our own need for physical expression through pleasing the senses. According to Masekhet Megillah, God will dwell in the holy spaces we create. These are our sanctuaries, our homes, and especially, our tables. These places are filled with the pleasing scents, tastes and textures of our Shabbat and holiday foods. They are filled with the sounds of our singing prayers, brachot and songs. Our eyes are filled with the pleasant sights of new holiday clothes, flowers, the Torah mantles and breastplates, the smiling faces of our family and our friends. 

We have just begun the month of Second Adar. The Jewish leap year is not as easy to identify as the Gregorian. There are seven leap years in every nineteen-year cycle. In those years we add a full month, and not just any month, but the month of Adar. It is said “Mi shenikhnas Adar, marbim bsimcha.” “When Adar begins, joy increases.” We’re an interesting people. The oldest Jewish joke is that every holiday has this message, “They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat.” One would think this would lead us to be a depressed people, melancholy and sad, but instead we are joyous. When Adar begins, happiness is increased. Mourning is forbidden during Nisan, the month in which Pesach occurs. There were no greater days for Israel than the fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur. Sukkot is Z’man Simchateinu, the time of our rejoicing. Even Yom HaZikaron blends seamlessly into exuberant celebration for Yom HaAtzmaut. We focus our mourning onto just a few national days, seeing joy in everything else.  

Rav Sean and I recently saw the documentary “Hava Nagila.” It is a wonderful movie, giving insight into this special song. In one interview, the interviewer states Jewish music is sad. Certainly it has a mournful quality with its minor chords. The interviewee however, hears the wistful longing, the nostalgic joy in the tune and the words. “Hava nagila. Hava nagila. Hava nagila, v’nismecha. (repeat) Hava n’ran’na. Hava n’ran’na. Hava n’ran’na v’nismecha. (repeat) U’ru, u'ru achim. U’ru achim b’lev sameach (4x) U’ru achim! U’ru achim! B’lev sameach! Let us rejoice. Let us rejoice. Let us rejoice and be happy. (repeat) Let’s sing. Let’s sing. Let’s sing and be happy. (repeat) Awake, awake brothers. Awake brothers with a happy heart. (4x) Awake brothers. Awake brothers. Have a joyful heart! 

Life happens. And, in life, not everything brings us joy. We see injustice. We see anger. We experience hardship, and feel pain, but we work hard to rise above it. We create sanctuaries in our homes and in our hearts. We fill our lives with hiddur mitzvah, aromas, flavors, beauty and song! This is our song- Hava Nagila! This is our people- Am Yisrael Chai! These are our celebrations, our sanctuaries, and our life. They bring us together. They bring us nearer to God. They raise up our hearts, our minds, and our spirituality. They make us holy. And it is joyous! 

The Worst Week of the Year

It is said that anticipation is worse than the thing you are dreading.  It is true. This is the worst week of the year. Each morning I wake up to sun streaming in my bedroom window. But it's not real. It's a tease. Sunday morning, o-dark-hundred, the clocks jump forward into daylight saving. You may know, I HATE daylight saving! The days are already getting longer. Shabbat is beginning to start at a reasonable time. It's light, as it should be, when people are getting up for work and for school, but Monday morning we will be plunged back into darkness, making mornings, once again, cold and miserable.

They're taking the sun away. It makes me sad. But the worst is waking up each morning to sun and the thought, "Next week that'll be gone."

At least the dread is almost over.  I can accept the headache that comes every year with the theft of the sun, and look forward to brighter days in a few weeks.

He's Broken & He Can't Get Up

Last year Sean headed off to do his milu'im (reserve duty), as he does every year.  While there, through no fault of the US Navy, Sean developed an appendicitis, and he spent half his time on medical leave.  Well... he's done it again.  This time, my amazing husband has broken his collarbone and fractured a rib.  Worse he missed the point.

Last Friday, playing racketball agains two Marines, at least 10 years his junior, my amazing husband ran full-flank into a wall while going for a point.  In his defense to me, he said, "But I was winning."  I told the senior chaplain who called me with the news that he was just shirking duty.  I then shared Sean's appendicitis story, and, for kicks and goggles, told him of the week before Gavi's birth, when my amazing husband broke his ankle playing racketball.  That time he made the point.  That was the first question the doctor asked him. One week later, when I went into labor, I still made him carry the pillows and my overnight bag, shlepping along behind me.  He accepted that role.

Did I mention I think he's amazing.