A word of Torah:
Last week I wrote about meditation as a practice that helps us focus on what is important. I compared the practice of paying attention to the breath to a traditional practice of paying attention to God’s presence. Through this practice, whether we are focusing on God or the universe, we are reminded that we are connected to something larger than ourselves.
This week I want to suggest an unlikely source for a practice for paying attention---Covid. The pandemic has taught us to pay attention to things we often take for granted---our breathing, our health, medicine, our relatively uncomplicated lives, and the power of physical touch. We relearned the importance of ritual—of washing our hands when we returned home. We were taught to wash for thirty seconds, if we wanted to fulfill/ be yotze this new commandment and help keep us virus-free. Many of us joined with our neighbors each evening at 7pm in a gratitude practice for the health workers who put their lives on the line for all of us. It was also a way to come out of our isolation and make noise in the face of the increased silence of our streets and gave us a way to respond to the ever-present sirens of ambulances, angels of mercy carrying those seeking salvation to the holy places known as hospitals.
In a time of division, we should have learned that we are all connected to one another. In our interconnected world, Covid spread everywhere despite borders, oceans, and walls. In response to the pandemic, we were called to affirm that we are indeed our brother’s keeper. In a time of crisis, we should have been clear about the necessity and ability of governments to mobilize and co-ordinate a national and a global effort to fight the pandemic.
Too often it did not. Instead of obligations to others, some trumpeted their personal rights. Instead of mobilization by governments, we saw disfunction and disinformation. Instead of rallying together, we saw blame and division.
Psalm 27, said during this month of Elul leading up to the High Holidays, got it right with the verse that begins with the words ahat sha’alti. Though usually translated "I ask for only one thing,” I read it instead, “I only ask for oneness.” I seek a sense of connection to other people, to holiness, to God. This is all I need—to feel that sometimes I am sitting with a sense of purpose, to have a vision of a better future to which I will strive, and to acknowledge that my life will be filled with good moments and bad. It will not be a perfect life. I will not be able to always respond wisely, or be in God’s presence, or further the repair of the world/tikkun olam.
Yet, Judaism is all about oneness not about division. The Kabbalistic myth suggests that all the scattered sparks will become restored to wholeness. The Hasidic tradition is about connecting to other people and to the Holy One.
Hear O Israel, God is One and we are to be witnesses to that oneness.
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