Today’s Torah reading is a complicated reading. It tells the story of the birth of Isaac to
Sarah and Abraham in their old age. Sarah’s maidservant,Hagar, had already
given birth to a son with Abraham and that son, Ishmael is cast out of his
father’s home with his mother. Sarah has
them cast out into the wilderness saying, “ they shall not share in the
inheritance with my son Isaac.” Hagar is sent out with a skin of water and some
bread, not enough to sustain her or the child in the wilderness of Beersheva. When the water was gone, she placed the child
under a bush and sat down at a distance because she couldn’t bear to watch the
child die. She burst into tears. What happens next is puzzling. The text doesn’t say that G-d heard her cry,
instead it says G-d heard the cry of the boy and a messenger of G-d called out
to Hagar, offering her comfort and placing a well before her eyes so that the
boy could drink.
There was no cry from the boy….yet G-d responded to the
voice of the child. According to Rabbi Menachem
Mendel of Vurcha, Ishmael’s cry was a silent scream, one that G-d heard. Perhaps we are aware of the many silent
screams within the hearts of our family members and friends during this year of
covid. Perhaps this parsha can remind us
that life is fragile and at times can look very bleak. But we need to be like the Source of Life and
listen for those silent cries of our companions so we too can offer comfort and
be supportive of the needs of one another.
Life even at its bleakest moments has hope.
When I think about this year of covid19 where I’ve
experienced it the most, in Israel, I can think of long stretches of time where
we had lockdowns and could only go to the grocery store or the doctor; long
periods of time where we actually were in isolation for 7 to 14 days and needed others to do for us the shopping
and errands we needed; nearly a year of no services in the synagogue of my
choice and then only sporadically; months of not seeing family unless it was
outdoors; months of only being able to order carryout from restaurants because
they could not serve individuals indoors nor outdoors ; and a year of only teaching on zoom.
Yet, I’m not exactly sure why, these things do not depress
me; do not leave me thinking life is awful.
Perhaps it is due to my tendency to look at life through “rose colored
glasses” so to speak and see what it is that I can take away from these
experiences that is positive. Of course,
maybe this is easier because I am retired, not dependent on a job for income,
have the resources for living in the manner in which I am living, and a
government that has provided so much help during this first year of making
Aliyah; help with health care, language classes, and subsidies for
housing. If I had come here alone and
had none of those resources, I imagine my attitude might not be exactly same.
For years when I was the spiritual lay-leader of a
congregation in Lincoln, Nebraska (where all Jews are from) I spoke about resiliency. Why?
It is because I acknowledge that life is full of challenges and, periods
of suffering. We do have chronic pain,
illness, and loss. Yet even with these
hardships, life is also full of great promise, hope, and incredible beauty
(both physical and emotional). So how have
I tried to promote resiliency in my own life?
What are the steps I’ve tried to take when times are constantly
reminding me that the plans I perhaps had when first deciding to make Aliyah have
been interrupted by this virus that has turned our lives upside down? (Plans like participating in a group called
Shabbat of a Lifetime and opening my home to tourists for a Shabbat meal and
community setting; plans like tutoring high school kids in person for greater
success in their English studies; plans like studying in a pluralistic yeshiva
setting for increased Jewish learning and stimulation…each of these things was
put on hold.)
Here are some things that I’ve tried this year even in the
midst of making Aliyah during a pandemic that I have found to be helpful:
I have tried to be with others who are supportive of
me….this has often been on Zoom or over the phone but I am thankful for the
technology that allows this to happen.
One of the most supportive groups that I gain strength from on a weekly
basis is the Village Yontiff Shabbat minyan. I believe that the support I
receive from belonging to this group is not one-sided. Participation in this community allows one to
also reach out to others and offer a caring ear.
I have been trying to take better care of myself. I am working on walking everywhere (Although
it started as a result of being afraid to take public transportation it now is
a matter of pleasure also). This act of bettering myself also has given me the
opportunity to not worry about rushing to the final destination but to relish
the sights and sounds of nature while engaged in conversations with my walking
partner (usually my husband).
I have been learning to ask for help when I need it. I can now realize that it allows others to do
a mitzvah. Much of my asking for help has been to try to figure out how this
society and its government agencies work.
I am also learning to say yes
when others offer help even when at first I don’t necessarily think I need it!
Of course as much as I am learning to ask for help, I am still offering help to
others. Whether it is offering to shop
for someone who is in quarantine, teaching two students how to speak English,
or spending 10 days taking care of 5 grandchildren…I am aware that others deserve
to feel safe when asking me to help them, by knowing that I won’t turn down
their request.
I have established a daily routine of prayer. I find that it allows me to start each day by
focusing on my priorities and gives me the energy to act upon them. It also has
provided me with a small community on zoom which cares about one another’s
well-being. If I can ask G-d for healing
others, then I know I must do my part to help ensure that I contribute to their
ability to remain healthy as well.
I have triedhard to concentrate on the good and show
gratitude for what I do have. It’s true
I can’t just have my family members come here and spend weeks with me due to
huge amounts of bureaucracy around entering the country as a foreigner, but I can
still talk to them daily over the internet; still check in on them and stay up
to date on what they are thinking and doing.
Perhaps Judaism actually gives us insight into delayed or
interrupted plans through stories in the Torah like the 14 years that Jacob
worked to gain Rachel in marriage; like the wandering through the desert for 40
years before reaching the land of milk and honey; like the story of creation
that begins with chaos and ends with the statement by G-d, “and it was very good.”
We might have had our original hopes and plans for this year
dashed by circumstances far beyond our control.
We might feel sad and rightfully so.
But we come from a tradition that reminds us that faith is persistence,
strength cannot be defeated by tragedy, and courage stems from being willing to
start again after much has been lost.
May that message resound in your hearts as you process this year that we
have now encountered and move forward into the coming year. חזק ואמץ
Be strong and of
good courage.
L’shana tovah
tikateyvu v’tichateymu.
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