וַתִּכְלֶ֕ינָה שֶׁ֖בַע שְׁנֵ֣י הַשָּׂבָ֑ע אֲשֶׁ֥ר הָיָ֖ה בְּאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃
And they went, those seven years of plenty/satiety that were in the land of Egypt. (Gen 41:53)
Satisfaction has been hard to find this fall. In this last newsletter of the fall, while reading about the end of a biblical season of plenty, we are ending a season of the opposite in some ways – a lacking of reason, of listening, of justice, of peace, of humanity. And yet, I have also observed and experienced this as a season of plenty as well: of care, of action, of connection, of solidarity, of resilience, of…humanity. Which of these seasons is about to go, like the one in our opening verse of Torah this week?
In many ways, the season of dissatisfaction has been around for a long time. After all, as Jews and as progressives, in the words of Angelica Schuyler (in Hamilton), “we will never be satisfied.”
But perhaps our season of dissatisfaction could end. Perhaps we could enter a season of satisfaction – with the wisdom that one day, it too would end, as this subtle anticapitalist verse of Torah states, seasons of plenty might always come to ends.
There is a famous story in Persian and Jewish folklore about a ruler who got bored of everything always being the same. The ruler wanted a mantra that would work to offer perspective when times were abundant and well, and also when times were utterly, terribly unsatisfactory. This is the origin (maybe) of the phrase “this too shall pass” (which OK Go made even more famous in 2010 with a marching band).
This too shall pass. This week's parasha reminds us right there in the first verse (of the year 2 triennial cycle).
Abundance does not last forever. And neither does lacking.
As we honor the last day of Chanukah, we are on the verge of such a transition - a time of abundant fuel and flame, followed by a time of none – a time of abundant beautiful, quiet, still, cozy darkness.
As the lights of the chanukiyah may have fueled us in a season of lacking, may the darkness accompany us into a renewed season of abundant wellness, care, concern, and love – of self and community, in neighborhoods and across oceans and seas, inside our bodies and throughout the natural world.
And, in a season of war, brutality, death, and callousness, there is nothing to take for granted. Let the end of Chanukah, a time of no more fire, also bring a ceasefire and a return of all to their homes. May it be immediate and long lasting.
L'havdil, in this season, many of us may be returning to homes of origin or gathering with family and friends whom we might not see everyday. Here are two fabulous resources made by Jews for Jews that might be of support and solidarity with you as you do so: How to Have Hard Conversations with Chani Nicolas, Mazal Masoud Etedgi, and Esther Farmer and Talking to Our Families from On the Nose Podcast. May they fill you tanks for the work ahead.
And with a season of perhaps a bisl more space, perhaps print out the writings from Kadima's blog (now that our website and email are back up!) featuring writings from Kadima members Dalya Perez, Sandy Silberstein, Eli Zavatsky, and myself since October 7.
In the meantime, shabbat shalom, and perhaps we can say hi at tomorrow morning's bi-annual Kadima Community Membership Meeting, snacks at 10am, meeting 10:30-12n (followed by karaoke in the parking lot!)
L'chayim - to life,
R’ David
And they went, those seven years of plenty/satiety that were in the land of Egypt. (Gen 41:53)
Satisfaction has been hard to find this fall. In this last newsletter of the fall, while reading about the end of a biblical season of plenty, we are ending a season of the opposite in some ways – a lacking of reason, of listening, of justice, of peace, of humanity. And yet, I have also observed and experienced this as a season of plenty as well: of care, of action, of connection, of solidarity, of resilience, of…humanity. Which of these seasons is about to go, like the one in our opening verse of Torah this week?
In many ways, the season of dissatisfaction has been around for a long time. After all, as Jews and as progressives, in the words of Angelica Schuyler (in Hamilton), “we will never be satisfied.”
But perhaps our season of dissatisfaction could end. Perhaps we could enter a season of satisfaction – with the wisdom that one day, it too would end, as this subtle anticapitalist verse of Torah states, seasons of plenty might always come to ends.
There is a famous story in Persian and Jewish folklore about a ruler who got bored of everything always being the same. The ruler wanted a mantra that would work to offer perspective when times were abundant and well, and also when times were utterly, terribly unsatisfactory. This is the origin (maybe) of the phrase “this too shall pass” (which OK Go made even more famous in 2010 with a marching band).
This too shall pass. This week's parasha reminds us right there in the first verse (of the year 2 triennial cycle).
Abundance does not last forever. And neither does lacking.
As we honor the last day of Chanukah, we are on the verge of such a transition - a time of abundant fuel and flame, followed by a time of none – a time of abundant beautiful, quiet, still, cozy darkness.
As the lights of the chanukiyah may have fueled us in a season of lacking, may the darkness accompany us into a renewed season of abundant wellness, care, concern, and love – of self and community, in neighborhoods and across oceans and seas, inside our bodies and throughout the natural world.
And, in a season of war, brutality, death, and callousness, there is nothing to take for granted. Let the end of Chanukah, a time of no more fire, also bring a ceasefire and a return of all to their homes. May it be immediate and long lasting.
L'havdil, in this season, many of us may be returning to homes of origin or gathering with family and friends whom we might not see everyday. Here are two fabulous resources made by Jews for Jews that might be of support and solidarity with you as you do so: How to Have Hard Conversations with Chani Nicolas, Mazal Masoud Etedgi, and Esther Farmer and Talking to Our Families from On the Nose Podcast. May they fill you tanks for the work ahead.
And with a season of perhaps a bisl more space, perhaps print out the writings from Kadima's blog (now that our website and email are back up!) featuring writings from Kadima members Dalya Perez, Sandy Silberstein, Eli Zavatsky, and myself since October 7.
In the meantime, shabbat shalom, and perhaps we can say hi at tomorrow morning's bi-annual Kadima Community Membership Meeting, snacks at 10am, meeting 10:30-12n (followed by karaoke in the parking lot!)
L'chayim - to life,
R’ David
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