The Calendar and the Cosmos

May 12, 2009

 

In a recent Boston Globe article (5/2/09), astronomer Alan MacRobert, a senior editor for Sky and Telescope magazine, commented on the manner by which people mark time according to astronomical cycles that don’t fit neatly into our human, mathematical structures.

“Three great astronomical cycles - the day, the month, and the year - have governed people’s ordering of time throughout history. The day is one rotation of the Earth. The month is one cycle of the moon. And the year is one revolution of Earth around the sun.

“Since prehistoric times, nearly every culture has considered these cycles to be a sort of cosmic clockwork built by the Creator to mark out the cycles of nature and human life. The problem is that its gears don’t mesh. Each one of the three spins along on its own, disconnected from the others. So every calendar that attempts to interrelate them, as if they were part of a single plan, becomes an ever-more-complicated mess of approximations and kludges…

“Contrary to humanity’s assumption since forever, they were not intelligently designed. They resulted from the random, natural processes of how the solar system fell together at its formation 4.6 billion years ago (and various random perturbations since then), like stars and planets everywhere. These large-scale happenstances show no more planning than swirls of dust in the wind. People have lost their faith over less.”

            In reading MacRobert’s observations, I thought immediately of how our Jewish perspective actually refutes his argument and turns it on its head.  In the Book of Exodus, just before the night of the Passover, God instructs the Israelites as follows regarding the reckoning of sacred times and seasons:  “This month shall be for you the beginning of the months; it shall be the first of the months of the year for you.” (Exodus 12:2) The sages of our tradition, noticing the emphatic qualification “for you”, taught that the recognition of sacred times was, therefore, entirely a human enterprise.

            Likewise, in the Book of Leviticus we read: “These are the festivals of the Lord which you shall proclaim…” (Leviticus 23:4) And so again, the rabbis understood that God was telling the Israelites: If you proclaim them, then they are My festivals, but if you do not proclaim them, they are not My festivals.”

            In other words, Judaism asserts that sacred days and seasons, and even the very reckoning of time are NOT inherently part of the order of the Universe.  The cosmos and the natural universe know nothing of our festivals, New Years, or Sabbaths.  These are, indeed, purely human institutions! But rather being than a challenge to our faith, we believe that this simple reality provides us with both a great gift and the remarkable power to create and declare sanctity in time. 

            In fact, sacred moments come into being only through the behaviors we choose to follow.  For instance, Friday night and Saturday only become Shabbat when we decide, in the parlance of our tradition, to “make Shabbat.”  And therefore, when we decide to elevate time, such as Shabbat or the festivals, through the practices of our tradition, we suffuse that time with holiness that would otherwise simply never be present.

            Despite MacArthur’s assertion, it makes little difference to our Jewish faith that the irregularity of the moon’s rotations about the earth, and the earth’s rotations about the sun, and even the earth’s rotation on its own axis, force us to joggle our calendar every now and then so that the seasons remain in the correct order.  More important to us is the realization that all of time contains the possibility for holiness, if we simply decide to make it so.

                                                            

A School Needs People

May 12, 2009

 

 

As multitudes of people walked up the broad stairway leading to the temple in Jerusalem, Rabbi ben Zoma offered the following blessing: “Blessed is the intellect that solves all mystery, and blessed is the Creator who provided all these people to serve me.”

            When his students heard the rabbi’s blessings, they did not understand how he could say something so arrogant.  After all, their teacher was known for his humility.  Finally, one man mustered the nerve to ask the rabbi to explain his words. (Bleefield and Shook, “People Need People,” Saving the World Entire.)

 

In this Talmudic tale, Rabbi ben Zoma goes on to describe all the difficult labors that the first human had to complete in order to taste a mouthful of bread, or to cover himself with a garment.  From planting and tending to harvesting, threshing, winnowing, grinding, sifting, mixing, kneading, from shearing and cleaning to spinning, weaving, cutting and sewing, the first human being had to do it all by himself. 

            “But as for me,” the rabbi continued, “I have only to get up each morning from a good night’s sleep, and I dress myself.  I eat bread.  All that the first man had to do for himself is done for me by many others.”

            While the story teaches us a lesson of humility and thankfulness in all aspects of our lives, it has come to my mind recently in the context of our religious school, as I consider all of the hundreds of hands, the scores of coordinated efforts, the hours and hours of work, that have gone into creating and maintaining and, ultimately, strengthening our children’s school.

            So first of all, thank you.  Thank you to the room parents, to the Religious School committee, to members of our new Parent Advisory Group.  Thank you to all of the volunteers and helpers—adults, teens, our youngest children—who have supported Mitzvah Day, Purim Carnival, Family Shabbat; who have provided snacks, or meals; who have carpooled your friends’ and neighbors’ kids; who have picked up the phone, or sent an email, or stopped by my office, to let me know when you were disappointed, and when you were delighted.  We are all greatly indebted to Naomi Dreeben, who has led the Religious School Committee with skill, vision, and great energy for the last two years—thank you, Naomi! Our job in the Religious School office would not be more difficult without each one of you; it would be impossible.  I hope all of you who have helped will join us for recognition and celebration at our Volunteer Recognition Shabbat on June 19th (see this bulletin for more information).

            And second, as we all prepare to take a couple of months off from our busy school-year routines, please consider the gifts you bring and can share.  All of us have gifts that only we can give to the world.  What are yours?  And which can you share with Temple Emanu-El Religious School next year?  From organizing a classroom party to listening to your child read her Hebrew homework, every time you touch your child’s Temple Emanu-El experience you have the opportunity to build community, enrich learning, and further our mission.

Don’t forget to register for Religious School—soon!  And when you do, please let us know (using the volunteer form, or by any means you prefer) what you bring to our shared purpose of preparing our children to carry on our Jewish story, here on the North Shore, and beyond.

           

 

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