Shana
Tova! I’d like to begin this High Holy
Day season with a story as told by Rabbi Leora Kaye from the Union for Reform
Judaism. I urge you to sit back, take in
a deep breath, and relax!
There[i]
once was a young girl who lived in Baltimore City. She loved our city. She loved seeing her neighbors, watching the
dogs as they walked by, hearing the car horns, and riding her bike to and fro
down our streets. Yet, each year, the
girl looked forward to leaving Baltimore for her annual trip to visit her savta,
her grandmother.
Now, the
girl’s savta did not live any place like Baltimore. Her grandmother lived far away, an hours long
car drive, deep in the country. The girl
loved being with her savta because her home was so different from Baltimore. The sounds were different, the sights were
different, even the smells were different.
There were so many things to do, so many places to explore, and so many people
to meet.
Most
special of all, the thing that the girl most looked forward to, was an annual
tradition, a train ride. Each year, her
grandmother would come up with an excuse for just the two of them to ride the
train together. The girl and her savta
loved these train rides.
Year
after year, they’d board the same train that always left the station promptly
at 2:36pm. They’d sit in the same seats:
left side of the train, second row from the back. They’d look out the same window and her savta
would share stories about the places they passed. She would reminisce about the farms, the
buildings, the people, and the community.
Her savta would remind her of what had changed during her lifetime and
what still stayed the same. It was an
annual pilgrimage, a time to hold each other tight, to remember the past, and to
focus on the present. It was truly the
highlight of their visit together.
One year,
as the girl arrived, her savta saw that the train schedule had changed. Instead of the 2:36pm train that they always took,
they’d need to board a different train which left an hour later. “Savta, we always take the 2:36pm train! How could we not take our train?!” “Don’t worry bubbele, we’ll catch the other
train train instead!”
But, as
they boarded the new train, they saw that an older couple was sitting in their
seats! The couple was moving quite slowly
and had just gotten settled. “Savta,
that’s our seats! We always sit on the
left side, second row from the back!”
“Don’t worry bubbele, we’ll sit in these seats instead!”
But, as the train began to leave the station,
they saw that directly next to them, on the parallel track, was a very, very long
freight train. As they looked out the
window, all they could see was the cars of that train!
The girl
became dismayed. “Savta, how can you
tell me all of our stories if the train is blocking our view?” Even though the girl knew these stories by
heart, she wanted to hear them from her grandmother and to look out at the
farms and the trees and the people that she loved to see.
With a
wisdom that only comes from being a grandmother, her savta gently touched her
shoulder and turned her granddaughter’s face in the opposite direction. “Don’t worry bubbele, there is another side
of the train! We haven’t even looked out
this window, in this direction! I have
so many new stories to tell you!” And
so, grandmother and granddaughter turned their view, and saw a whole new world.
This
evening, as we gather to welcome the New Year 5781, we know that our train is
cancelled, our seats are taken, and a freight train blocks our view. We can’t celebrate Rosh Hashanah as we did in
the past. We can’t gather in our meadow
with our picnic dinners. We can’t hear
the moving music led by Shir Chadash.
Tomorrow morning, we won’t be able to fill our beautiful sanctuary, to kiss
each other, hug each other, feel the majesty that only comes when hundreds of
us gather in the same space together.
The
stories, rituals, and traditions that have been a hallmark for generations of
Jews and a staple of our Bolton Street Synagogue community are just not going
to be the same this year.
Like the
girl, we too can’t take all of these disruptions! We too are a bit dismayed, more than a tad
saddened that this year’s Rosh Hashanah will be different. Although we can’t experience things as we did
in the past, we do have the stories and memories. Rosh Hashanah is called Yom HaZikaron,
the Day of Memory. Today, we are urged
to remember the past and remember what’s been taken from us. We are permitted to mourn everything that
we’ve lost, but we must not allow ourselves to become fixated on the past.
For our view is blocked. It’s time for us, at this moment, to change perspective. I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m not saying it won’t be a little bittersweet, but there is power and strength when we shift our perspective.
With that
change of perspective, we can gain a new sense of creativity and learn about
old traditions that haven’t been at the forefront of our own experience.
Tonight’s
Erev Rosh Hashanah was not the same, but we would have never celebrated a Rosh
Hashanah Seder prior to covid. Over the
holidays, we’ll have other new rituals, new voices sharing their stories, new
approaches to transform the customs of the past and make them meaningful to our
life experience during covid. Tonight,
we also recognize that because of the power of zoom, we can gather in community
with friends and family from across the globe.
As we
begin another new year, as we mark another notch in our Jewish calendar, may we
not forget that many of the generations that came before us also faced struggle
and challenge. They did not remain
unmoved. Their change in perspective
pushed them to transform our religion and our world. We possess the rituals and the traditions of today
because they needed to create them. And
so, we must do the same.
We can and
must mourn that our view is blocked. We
can and must focus on the memories of Rosh Hashanah past, but at this moment we
must change perspective. For our future
depends on it. We must plant new seeds
that will uplift our Jewish community and allow it to flourish far into the
future. It’s time to create new
memories, new rituals, new stories for the covid and post covid world. It’s time to change perspective and recognize
the blessings of our family, our community, and our world. It’s not easy, but it’s time to look out the
other window.
[i]
Retold from a version shared by Rabbi Leora Kaye https://reformjudaism.org/podcasts/stories-we-tell/stories-we-tell-look-other-way
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