A Time To…
I’ve always been enamored of the song written by singer, songwriter and activist, Pete Seeger “Turn, Turn, Turn”. It applies the lyrics lifted from a fragment of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. It reads: “A time to rend and a time to sew; a time to keep silent and a time to speak; A time to love and a time to hate; A time of war and a time of peace.” The song’s title does not appear in the Bible, but it alludes to the passage of time and the wheel of fortune, which represents the recurring nature of life’s losses and blessings. Seeger wrote the song in the late 1950’s and added “turn, turn, turn”, to the text to create a chorus. He also included his own hopeful line, “A time for peace; I swear it’s not too late”, for audiences during the Cold War. Seeger composed the song as a protest and a clarion call for change.
The California folk-rock band The Byrds took the song to great popularity in 1965. The song’s epic plea for tolerance and peace resonated with the public as the war in Viet Nam raged on.
So why do I bring this up now? Well, simply because we are coming into our High Holiday season which thematically is about turning and change. When we turn, we chart a new course. We are looking at this season of the year to right old wrongs, to acknowledge slights we have made, to look ahead and see where we want to be in this next year, and to alter our direction to get us there. It is hard to imagine anyone who doesn’t want to accomplish some kind of turning. Think of it as a course correction or a check on where we are now and how important it just might be to reevaluate our positions.
We want the transition to 5785 to feel peaceful. In fact, if we were pressed, we would say we want it to feel simple and easy. But this is a year that is already fraught with uncertainty as we look toward an election that really feels disastrously contentious.
There are some who teach us, that the Jewish High Holiday season does not begin with Rosh Hashanah or, even with the Hebrew month of Elul, a month of introspection prior to the High Holidays. They contend rather, the Jewish High Holy Day season commences on Tisha B’Av. Tisha B’ Av is the day we remember and mourn the loss and catastrophe of the destruction of the Temple. So, the High Holidays do not begin with celebration or even introspection, but with everything falling down around us. Judaism has much to say about what to do when you find yourself in places where it feels like everything has torn asunder.
A teaching from Brachot, a tractate of the Talmud about blessings, tells us that a Rabbi Yossi, while walking along the road enters the ruins of an abandoned building, among the ruins of Jerusalem, to pray. While praying, he notices the prophet Elijah guarding the entrance. After greeting Elijah, they have a conversation:
And Elijah said to me: my son, why did you enter this ruin? I said to him: to pray. And Elijah said to me: you should have prayed on the road. And Rabbi Yossi said to him: I was unable to pray along the road, because I’m afraid that I might be interrupted by travelers and would be unable to focus. Elijah said to me: you should have recited the abbreviated prayer instituted for just such circumstances.
“What”, Rabbi Yossi asks, “about all my plans? What about trying to do things exactly the way it feels like we’re supposed to?”
Elijah’s firm response is that “you cannot pray in a ruin, regardless of the goodness of your intent.” So, Rabbi Yossi learns one may not enter a ruin and remain there, and learned that one need not enter a building to pray, but one may pray anywhere.
It seems the lesson the rabbis want us to take away, especially now, is this: You cannot stay in the ruin, not just because everything it represents is gone, but because eventually, it very likely will collapse around you. This is, of course, not ideal. And you are not freed from your responsibilities – but you “turn” and take them on the road. You keep moving and turning. And as you keep moving you work to build something for yourself and the community. Just because something is ruined, doesn’t mean it can’t be rebuilt. That is the lesson for Rosh Hashanah and for this upcoming election season. Work in any way you can to bring about the best world for yourself and all people, not just some. All humans are God’s children, not just some. No matter how different someone might be from you, they still represent the handiwork of God. It doesn’t matter what color they are, who they love, what they read, and/or how they choose to build a family. This is why we must move might and main to help our communities become safe, caring, inclusive respites for all human beings. That is what is on the ballot in November.
There may be days in the coming weeks and more immediately in this election season where everything will feel like it is falling apart. We begin the High Holidays every year in mourning, but we don’t stay there. We keep going and turning and being the change we want to see. We end the cycle with Sukkot – a holiday in which we are literally commanded to feel joy.
As we begin this holy time, and near the end of this election cycle, joy feels like big ask. But in spite of it all, keep encouraging yourself to turn to find respite and clarity in your direction and in your vote. If may not bring you joy but it will give you hope. And with hope you will keep going.
Shanah Tova U’metukah
Rabbi Howard S. Herman DD
Naples Jewish Congregation
Naples, Florida