Tomorrow my congregation goes to a nearby park to tend to and restore the tree canopy to celebrate the Jewish holiday of Tu Bishvat, the new year of the trees.
We honor trees metaphorically by calling Torah a tree of life, and we honor them literally on this holiday.
We honor trees metaphorically by calling Torah a tree of life, and we honor them literally on this holiday.
It's going to take a while for what happened today to loosen its grip on Jewish communities, but I can't think of a more healing holiday to be heading into in its wake.
I think, at times like this, of bioethicist Laurie Zoloth's assertion that
"It is the way that Jews answer death,
with the passionate search for justice."
But I am grateful that the justice we will be focusing on this week is of a gentler sort, environmental justice.
"It is the way that Jews answer death,
with the passionate search for justice."
But I am grateful that the justice we will be focusing on this week is of a gentler sort, environmental justice.
And I think about Hila Ratzabi's incredible poem, "How to Pray While the World Burns."
Go outside.
Find a patch of grass, sand, dirt.
Sit, kneel, place a hand or just
A finger to the soft earth.
Feel it pulse back.
Go outside.
Find a patch of grass, sand, dirt.
Sit, kneel, place a hand or just
A finger to the soft earth.
Feel it pulse back.
Open your palms and divine
The words creased between.
Rub the specks of dirt
Between your fingers,
See how they cling to skin,
How they listen in their soft-rough way.
The words creased between.
Rub the specks of dirt
Between your fingers,
See how they cling to skin,
How they listen in their soft-rough way.
Pray to the God who sharpened the tiger’s teeth,
Who stored the roar in its throat.
Pray to the God who gave you lungs and tongue
To sing and groan and hum.
Who stored the roar in its throat.
Pray to the God who gave you lungs and tongue
To sing and groan and hum.
I swear to you
When the leaf shivers in the wind
You have given it chills
From all its listening.
When the leaf shivers in the wind
You have given it chills
From all its listening.
The earth hears your prayer.
There is nowhere for God to hide.
Get down on your knees and let
This precious earth soften for the weight of you.
There is nowhere for God to hide.
Get down on your knees and let
This precious earth soften for the weight of you.
You are held.
You are heard.
The wind pulls its blanket over your back,
Smooths the hair from your face,
Touches your cheek
With its cool, trembling hands.
You are heard.
The wind pulls its blanket over your back,
Smooths the hair from your face,
Touches your cheek
With its cool, trembling hands.
Read the whole thing here: ritualwell.org/ritual/how-pra…
I hope everyone who still has terror and fury and grief echoing through them, the shaky feeling in the wake of adrenaline, gets to spend some time with trees tomorrow.
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