It’s been a year of transitions, but perhaps they all are. Alya received her PhD in Developmental Biology and is now engaged in post-doctoral research. In her introductory remarks at her doctoral defense she noted the attendance of her parents and commented that we were “the only people in the room who didn’t know what she was talking about”. This was not entirely true as both Jo and I clearly understood all of the pronouns. This past year, Naomi was engaged in wonderful work as part of Americorps linking McDaniel College students to community service and social justice opportunities. She is now helping the same young men and women explore vocations in the Career Development Office. To her father’s great delight, she has taken up collecting used LP’s. She sends me text messages from record stores and I respond with assessments: “Allman Brothers” – great; Neil Diamond – pheh. Jacob spent the year in Israel on the Habonim Dror Workshop program splitting his time between kibbutz and working with disadvantaged youth in Tiberias. This fall he began his college career at Georgia College (Our state’s liberal arts college - perhaps, the only liberal institution in Georgia). To quote Paul Simon “These are the days of miracle and wonder”. Jo opened up a small office in Roswell, GA and continues to work with children and young adults. I work on and will soon complete a quarter century with Hillel. Like all of us, Goldie the dog is getting long in the tooth and she no longer accompanies me on my treks in the woods. I miss her company and have taken to chasing squirrels without her.
Each year, as we prepare for the Jewish New Year, it has become my custom to send out a pithy Rosh Hashanah message filled with erudite witticism and whimsy. Generally speaking, these electronic greetings are no more than thinly veiled opportunities to brag about my children and share recent photos. As above, I have not disappointed to deliver this ulterior motive.
But in the context of a less than fully gratifying political, economic, diplomatic and environmental period it has been somewhat difficult to find the vein of humor and cheer for this High Holy Day greeting. Admittedly, I do find myself thinking holy thoughts these days. These sacred musings are generally followed by an exclamation point, to whit: “Holy cow, my retirement fund lost how much!” or “Holy crap, did Michelle Bachmann really say that!”
Interestingly, although we go through these days wishing each other well on the “High Holy Days”, that term appears nowhere in the Hebrew lexicon. It is not a biblical, Talmudic or rabbinic phrase. The term in Hebrew for the days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is “Yomim Noraim”. We commonly translate this phrase as the “Days of Awe” but it can also be interpreted as the “Days of Terror” or “Terrible Days”. While “Days of Terror” may be a more accurate term for the High Holy Days, it makes for a less than satisfactory greeting card; except, of course, if you are a Cossack: “Dear Raphael Family, Happy Days of Terror from Igor the Malicious. We’ll be there on Tuesday between 9:00 am and noon to plunder.”
Beyond my annual brooding for the disappointing Mets during this season, it is hard to read or listen to the news and not feel that these are days of terror. We face global economic meltdown, political paralysis, ongoing international strife and global warming that is rapidly turning our planet into an Easy Bake Oven. Perhaps these are terrible days.
Are we uplifted yet? More pot roast anyone?
As Jews, when we use the term “holy” it is as a translation of the Hebrew “Kadosh”. Kadosh can be interpreted as holy and sacred, but I am drawn to “sanctified”. Holy and kadosh are adjectives – descriptors, are while “to sanctify” is a verb –a word of action. If these days are to be sanctified, it is up to us.
As many of you know, after six years of descending deeper and deeper into Alzheimer’s disease, my mother passed away, closing a difficult and painful period. While we mourn our loss, her death opened windows to memories of earlier times filled with joy and blessing. With her passing we were liberated to remember her as she had been; strikingly beautiful, charmingly funny but most of all deeply loving. During terrible days, I think about my mother. Through her warmth and graciousness she sanctified every moment and every one she touched. I think about those last days with her in a hospital room in Jerusalem. Jacob traveled from the north of Israel to sit with me, and those waning moments with my mother were made holy. I think about the tender care my mother received in the hands of my sister Ruth and her family in Jerusalem. The last years of my mother’s life were sanctified by her devoted family.
Perhaps, this is the lesson of the season for all of us: These days can be filled with terror. Calling a day “holy” doesn’t necessarily make it so. But all of us can use these Days of Awe to be in awe of our families, friends, communities, country and our planet and to sanctify our time together.
My best wishes to you and your family for a happy, healthy, sweet and sanctified year.
