אַֽל־תִּ֭תְּנֵנִי בְּנֶ֣פֶשׁ צָרָ֑י כִּ֥י קָֽמוּ־בִ֥י עֵֽדֵי־שֶׁ֝֗קֶר וִיפֵ֥חַ חָמָֽס׃ Do not subject me to the will of my foes, for false witnesses and unjust accusers have appeared against me. Psalm 27:12 [Sefaria] Ki Kamu Vi
Though they rise up against me to slander me Devorah reflects on what it means to be accused of something you didn’t do, and the subsequent moral, spiritual, and psychological consequences of being abused by and abusing with words. Though painful to remember, the greater pain is to discount the effect of our speech on the fragile souls in our wake.
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ה֤וֹרֵ֥נִי יְהוָ֗ה דַּ֫רְכֶּ֥ךָ וּ֭נְחֵנִי בְּאֹ֣רַח מִישׁ֑וֹר לְ֝מַ֗עַן שׁוֹרְרָֽי׃ Show me Your way, O LORD, and lead me on a level path because of my watchful foes. Psalm 27:11 [Sefaria] How is it that we can stay on the right path? The forces of chaos and anxiety, our watchful foes, push us to our limits. Join Devorah on her regular evening walk around her local lake in Michigan and be with her as she confronts that which threatens to destabilize our communal path to equilibrium.
כִּי־אָבִ֣י וְאִמִּ֣י עֲזָב֑וּנִי וַֽיהוָ֣ה יַֽאַסְפֵֽנִי׃ Though my father and mother abandon me, the LORD will take me in. Psalm 27:10 [Sefaria] Devorah explores her childhood as the daughter of a minister, and her path home to Judaism. Feelings of longing for Jewish family result in a surprising realization that she may be blessed with more family than she imagined. Elizabeth's chant of Psalm 27:10 weaves in and out of the reflection, pulling Devorah along and into the song as she reaches her conclusion. The music is a redo of a popular song from her youth.
אַל־תַּסְתֵּ֬ר פָּנֶ֨יךָ ׀ מִמֶּנִּי֮ אַֽל־תַּט־בְּאַ֗ף עַ֫בְדֶּ֥ךָ עֶזְרָתִ֥י הָיִ֑יתָ אַֽל־תִּטְּשֵׁ֥נִי וְאַל־תַּֽ֝עַזְבֵ֗נִי אֱלֹהֵ֥י יִשְׁעִֽי׃ Do not hide Your face from me; do not thrust aside Your servant in anger; You have ever been my help. Do not forsake me, do not abandon me, O God, my deliverer. Psalm 27:9 [Sefaria] Elizabeth looks back on a painful time when it felt like God had rejected her (and other LGBTQ rabbinical students). Elul is a time when we not only let ourselves feel present discord but past hurts as well.
What feelings do these experiences bring up for you? Have you been able to let God back in? Maybe, as Elizabeth ponders, God was really there the whole time. Sunday, August 30, 2020 Elul Weekday Shacharit Zoom Service Replay [Click Here to Listen] Thank you Rabbi Marcia Prager for the Siddur Material [Aleph Jewish Renewal]. Weekday Shacharit Siddur Download File Shema Adonai Listen God
Koli Eqra When My voice calls you V’ Haneni That you should have compassion on me V’anaeni That you answer You answer me Elizabeth ponders the risk of calling out to God in difficult times, and even more risky, waiting for the answer. How free do we feel to let God share in our burdens? How patient can any of us be to wait for an answer that may be too hard to bear? Perhaps, if we let ourselves be open enough, God will respond with compassion and grace. Psalm 27:6 “Now my head is high over my enemies all around; I sacrifice in His tent with shouts of joy, singing and chanting a hymn to the Adonai. “
Devorah reflects on a childhood friend named Jacob, who was bullied. With the help of friends and his own inner strength, he prevailed by “going high.” Elizabeth composed “yarum roshi—-my head held high” to accompany Devorah’s story and, as usual, Devorah’s editing work brings us all to a higher plane. Psalm 27:5 “God will shelter me in Her sukkah on a bad day, grant me the protection of His tent, raise me high upon a rock.”
Elizabeth bemoans having the holiday of Sukkot during the Corona Pandemic and looks to verse 5 for rejuvenating inspiration and a new approach to the holy days of Sukkot. Devorah harmonizes with Elizabeth’s memorized version of the verse from Jewish day school days. Elul Reflection Psalms 27:4 Devorah Tucker-Fick explores the famous verse 4 of Psalm 27, sometimes called Achat Shaalti (one thing do I ask of God), by asking us to consider, “What is a House of God?” She also brings us an original musical interpretation of Achat Shaalti that is easy to learn and you can use at home and/or when you return to shul. This is pretty much one of my favorite lines from Torah so Thanks Devorah.
Psalm 27 Verse. 3 “Should war besiege me, still I would not be afraid; should an army encamp against me, in this would I put my trust.“ Devorah contemplates her time in Iraq as she drives a truck through a dark moonlit road. How can we navigate between fear and trust when we are face to face with our own fragility? Thanks to David Meyersberg for blowing the shofar in today’s recording and his son Charles for making sure it got to us. We will use this shofar blast throughout the rest of Elul. Our second Elul offering explores verse 2 of Psalm 27, where we contemplate what it means to have enemies, and the way in which our soul engages with negative forces. Devorah shares with you her vision inspired by the Gemara and Kabbalistic teachings during a contemplative journey through the Universe.
Enjoy our Elul offerings beginning tonight as we celebrate Rosh Hodesh Elul. If you are sitting and listening and you would like to light a candle with us, have a candle and a match ready. Tonight through Friday, we welcome Rosh Hodesh and explore the “light” in the first verse of Psalm 27, also known by its first words as “L’david Hashem Ori V’Yishi.” For the first 14 days of Elul we will use music and narrative to this Psalm. We hope you will find this audio recording a useful tool to enter into the introspection of Elul.
Our theme song for these days is the song “Kaveh el Yah” by Rabbi Hanna Tiferet Siegel. Devorah and I have done a cover of this beautiful song which you can find in its original form on the album Seeds of Wonder. For Rosh Hodesh, we are singing our cover of “Rosh Hodesh (New Moon) Candlelighting” song, music composed by Linda Hirschhorn and original text by Marcia Falk. The blessing can be found in Marcia Falk’s Book of Blessings and the original musical composition can be found on Behold! by the amazing A cappella group, the Vocalot. Beginning Thursday, August 20, 2020 Hineni.Space will begin posting brief daily offerings (Elul meditations, reflections, and melodies). There is a tradition to hear the shofar every day of the month of Elul and to recite the verses of Psalm 27.
For 14 days we will explore the wisdom of the 14 verses of Psalm 27. And for the remainder of Elul we will introduce the liturgy of the High Holy Days. Because these are audio recordings, you can listen to them, when you have time, or while you are involved in other activities. In this way we will prepare together for the Days of Awe and solidify our connections to one another. We look forward to your feedback on this endeavor. Lamentations is about endings. It is about mourning what once was, what could have been. Lamentations mourns the destruction of the first temple in Jerusalem (and perhaps all subsequent Jewish communal devastation). Although this destruction happened in 586 BCE, by the ancient Babylonians, when we chant Eicha (Lamentations) we stand in the footsteps of the people who experienced this catastrophe, and even more so in the footsteps of their children who memorialized it. Lamentations is about the power of memory. Not beautiful memories of our children in their youth, or happy moments from our pasts, but rather the saddest moments of an entire century. By chanting Lamentations, we bring into full focus the moments in which we lacked all power to halt our own demise, into which we fell into the hands of callous enemies. It is not easy to voluntarily enter this space, even virtually, as we will do this year. The rabbis help to break us in to this vulnerable time through the “three weeks” of restrictions and then 9 days of more stringent restrictions. Music is downplayed and beards (of grief) grow slowly over smooth faces. A piece of meat is hard to find in kosher restaurants. Not that anyone is really eating in restaurants these days. And that brings us to the uniqueness of Tisha B’av this year. The pandemic has literally knocked us out. We are already vulnerable, already fragile. Almost all of us know someone who has been ill, died, or at the very least tested positive without visible symptoms. Our world is in “disarray” to quote the title of Richard Haass’ recent book on foreign affairs. We don’t know what our futures will look like or the ways our present will shape us in the long term. We sit on low stools in the dark. We are entering a full-on paradigm shift and we are running to catch up. Tisha B’av gives us permission to stop hurling through the chaos and just mourn what has been broken. Just sit. The city is imagined as a broken woman, a widow, a menstruating woman who has been abandoned by her community and friends. As she cries, we cry. How will we remember this moment? How will we remember the loss and the recovery? How will we sing of the failure of leadership and the rise of technology? Like Rabbi Yochanan Ben Zakkai, as he looked back on the ruins of the Second Temple in Roman occupied Jerusalem in 70 CE, he cried because he did not know if his grandchildren would recognize the Jewish religion as he did in his own time.
Dr. I. Breslau, recently shared her takeaways from a talk by Arthur Brooks of the Harvard Business School. In helping people deal with the lasting impacts of the Corona virus, Brooks, distinguishes between “disappointment” and “regret.” Both states result in feelings of powerless and lack of control. Both states lead to uncertainty about the future. With disappointment, as we feel with Covid-19 and the uncertain future it brings, Brooks encourages us to acknowledge our feelings (and do not suppress the feelings by bingeing on information) and recognize that our circumstances are not our fault. Acknowledging disappointment can help us appreciate the gifts we have of waking up healthy, being in relation to friends and loved ones, having enough food, having access to books, music and art and the physical world. Presumably, regret demands some different kind of action to move through this state of dismay. Regret demands the question: Could I have acted differently? And, if I acted differently, could I have prevented this situation? The guilt that can ensue in this quest is far more difficult and can wreak havoc on the soul. To admit that I did something terrible or I acted weakly, or I gave up on a child or a spouse…In these cases, simply acknowledging that we don’t have control over our present circumstances is not enough to move through the despair. Lamentations asks us to sit with both disappointment and regret. Unlike the pure disappoint ment of life with the corona virus, Lamentations adds regret. This short, 5-chapter book in our TaNaK informs us that to be fully engaged with this Jewish day of mourning, we have to acknowledge that we have contributed to the brokenness of our Jewish world and by extension, the ills of our own society. What are we really to do with the harshness of this reality? We sit through it. We mourn as a community. We let ourselves feel our feelings. We accept responsibility and we strive to do better. We don’t drown ourselves in media. And we listen carefully to Devorah’s chanting the last line of Chapter 5. Hashiveni Adonai V’nashuva, Hadesh yamenu K’Kedem הֲשִׁיבֵ֨נוּ יְה אֵלֶ֙יךָ֙ וְֽנָשׁ֔וּבָה חַדֵּ֥שׁ יָמֵ֖ינוּ כְּקֶֽדֶם׃ Bring us back to you our God, and we will return. Renew our days as (you have done) in the past. The answer is faith.
Faith in God. Faith in ourselves. Faith that our fragile lives will continue to restore and renew themselves. Faith that even though we cannot control the present or the future, we have the power to make good on the gift of life. I wish you peace on this journey through the brokenness of this time in our Jewish year. May you have an easy fast and a meaningful Tisha B’av. Rabbi Elizabeth Hineni.
A Kavanah by Devorah for Tisha B’Av I am here, standing in the desert. I wear heavy clothing that will protect me from bullets, but not from my hurting heart. I am here, my breasts filling with milk, for a baby that is home on the other side of the world. I am here, silent, while others around me are complaining. We have stood here a long time. They said the bus would come for us. That was four hours ago. It is the middle of the night. No one has come. So we wait. I am here, looking down at my boots. They are tan suede, covered in dust. My socks are dirty from 2 days of travel, bunched up, hurting my toes. I am here, turning my head up to see the moon and stars above, more clearly than I have ever seen them before. I see into the Universe, and suddenly feel it. I know. Hinei. I am here, more present than ever before in my life. I am here in the desert. I am here stripped bare. I am here without my child. I am here with aching breasts. I am here dirty, hungry, thirsty. I am here with a back that hurts, with sweaty socks, a body that wants to sleep. I am here, and nowhere else. I am here, and I accept it. I am here and I embrace it. There is nothing I can do to change it, I realize I do not want to change it. This is the journey. Hineni. Listen carefully to Devorah’s chanting the last line of Chapter 5.
Hashiveni Adonai V’nashuva, Hadesh yamenu K’Kedem הֲשִׁיבֵ֨נוּ יְה אֵלֶ֙יךָ֙ וְֽנָשׁ֔וּבָה חַדֵּ֥שׁ יָמֵ֖ינוּ כְּקֶֽדֶם׃ Bring us back to you our God, and we will return. Renew our days as (you have done) in the past. |
ReflectionsHineni.Space posts brief daily offerings (Elul meditations, reflections, poetry, and melodies). There is a tradition to hear the shofar every day of the month of Elul and to recite the verses of Psalm 27. Archives
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