This is a personal reflection as we continue to await news out of Egypt.
“Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha, Spread over us the shelter, the fragile sukkah of Your peace.”
I have taught this for years. To Jewish and non-Jewish groups. Often, since October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month to groups marking that observance.
Sukkot begins tonight. It is often fraught for me as I was the victim of a violent crime in Israel on the second night of Sukkot. It is why building a Sukkah is so important to me. If I can sit on my porch, my deck and listen to the birds and watch the moon rise through the branches, I know that I am whole. I can be at peace.
But I know that the sukkah is fragile. Knots not well tied, a wind too big and the whole thing can collapse.
Two years ago, on the last day of Sukkot, called Shmini Atzeret here, the 8th day of assembly, Israel was overrun by Hamas who proudly filmed the atrocities. Because the Jewish calendar and the Gregorian calendar differ, two years ago is tomorrow. Exactly tomorrow. I doubt that many Jews will forget where they were when the news filtered to synagogues early that morning in the United States.
This is personal. One of Simon’s niece’s cousin is still one of the suspected living hostages. Simon’s grand nephew now serves in the IDF. I have worked behind the scenes to get people out of Gaza. I have decried the starvation and the use of children as human shields. And tomorrow, and the next day will be hard, hard days. I may just disappear until Weds night.
As a congregational rabbi, I was met with two Elgin Police squad cars, breaking the news. They returned the next day, without being asked. They wanted to make sure that we were safe when we were scheduled to dance outside with the Torahs. We are always grateful to the EPD. I am grateful.
Tomorrow could be hard. Some of you have expressed anxiety. There is plenty of that to go around. Increasing anti-semitism. (I’d rather not lead with that one but it is true!). A polarized nation. Increasing violence on city streets. Wars in too many places to name.
And the Middle East. I cannot know what will happen in these negotiations between Israel, the US and Hamas. I continue to pray for the hostages to be returned. All of them. (I had even dared to hope, briefly, that it would be tomorrow because I liked the symmetry of an even 2 years. 2 years too long!) And yes, I pray for the people of Gaza. For the women, the children. For the elderly. Far too many have died. Full stop.
This I know, having written my rabbinic thesis on the 13 attributes of the divine. Some of you will disagree with me.
The full 13 attributes contain a last phrase that the sins of the parents will be carried on to the third and fourth generation. We are now in the the third and fourth generation since the founding of the State of Israel, since the ongoing hostilities.
What my research showed was profound. In order to make peace, a profound, pervasive peace, people need to feel safe. Whether that is after a violent crime like I endured, a domestic violence incident like I work as a chaplain, or any number of bombings. Too many bombings.
Some of you have said that I am such an inspiration. You don’t know how I do it. You don’t know how I keep going or where my energy comes from.
Part of it is I was lucky. I got really good physical and emotional support. If you need help reach out. Part of it is I have a supportive family. Part of it is through my writing, Writing helps me manage my own anxiety. Because yes, I worry too. The combination of ICE raids and this anniversary has been hard on my own mental health. Yet, I still like the phrase, “Here am I, Hineini.” I am still here. Despite the violent crime. Despite the death of my first finance due to a terrorist bomb. Despite having multiple myeloma.
How then do we dare to celebrate Sukkot with joy (my middle name!) It is Zeman Simchateinu, the time of our joy. Last year some people even left their sukkot undecorated as a way to express their unease, as a way to hope that the hostages would be home.
Kohelet, Ecclesiastes, which we read on Sukkot, reminds us: “It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting; for that is the end of all people, and the living will take it to heart” (Ecclesiastes 7:2)
On the surface, that seems difficult to understand. A house of mourning is better that a house of feasting?
Rabbi Jill Jacobs reminded me of a midrash:
“It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting.” Why? It is because “the heart of the wise is in a house of mourning” (Ecclesiastes 7:4), as anyone who mourns, the Blessed Holy One brings them joy, as it is stated: “The humble will increase their joy in the Lord” (Isaiah 29:19). (Kohelet Rabbah 7:2)
She adds: “Coming face to face with death is a humbling experience that also reminds us that we are alive, that we still have responsibilities in this world, and that we can take delight in the world around us. Our joy in times of mourning is not a pollyannish one that ignores the brutal realities of the world, but rather one that insists on joy especially because we know how precious our time here is.”
There is much work to be done in this world. Mine is still to be a peacemaker, as the Psalmist said, “Seek peace and pursue it.” Hineini. Here am I. May I be up for the task. And may I sit under my vine and fig tree and none make us afraid. Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha. Spread over us the sukkah of Your peace.