One might ask: from where will our help come?
And you wouldn't be the first Jew to ask this question. Psalm 121 reads “I lift my eyes to the mountains; from where will my help come?” Indeed, with little else to turn to, one might be left looking to the mountains for help this week as well.
This line from Psalms is mirrored in this week's parasha as Abraham twice lifts his eyes. At the very beginning, Abraham lifts his eyes arguably out of pain from a self-inflicted wound. Maybe an imperfect metaphor for the whole of the US this week. After this self-inflicted wound, Abraham is grappling with the pain of this new reality and he looks up – perhaps wondering what could have been or seeking a balm or wishing there was a way to undo what has been done. And yet, when he lifts his eyes, he is quick to jump toward gracious hospitality for strangers, turning his pain into mutual aid as he lifts his eyes.
Later in the parasha, Abraham, walking with Isaac toward sacrifice, Abraham lifts his eyes. He has taken on the task he (hopefully) wants no part of, of sacrificing his son, Isaac. And he lifts his eyes maybe out of anguish, or perhaps hope that there is a way out of the situation. Not aware that a ram awaits to spare his son. If only there was a way out of this mess. He turns his anguish into hope against hope as he lifts his eyes.
Let us “lift our eyes” this week as well – perhaps an analogy to seek out the places from which our aid and support will come. Step one: face reality. Step two: figure out where to seek support and where to be support.
One answer is certain: community engagement can bring aid, hope, mutuality, and support. Stay tuned, stay in touch, stay engaged, and become a source of community for one another. From there will our help come.
See you tomorrow for Cafe Kadima?
Shabbat shalom,
R’ David
Texts For Resilience (hybrid)
Saturday morning, 11/16, 10:30-11:30am
After Cafe Kadima, join Rabbi David for an informal text study addressing despair and resilience.