Waiting

Waiting for Godot.  I have never known whether to laugh or cry at the play. The simple story is about an absurd conversation between two people, Gogo and Didi, who wait for their friend Godot to arrive.  Daily they meet in the place under a tree where Godot said he would meet them, only to find that he never comes.  Still they wait.

Is tragic to watch the terrible waste of two lives. The only thing that could have made Samuel Beckett’s play even more terrifying would be if Kafka wrote it.

The play reminds me of the horror I once felt when I learned that people sleep away 1/3 of their lives.  Then I reconsidered: If we were to efficiently use the rest of our waking hours efficiently, the scant third spent sleeping would be labeled as productive.  

Beckett’s characters represent humanity, us.  Our physical demands occupy a huge segment of our precious allotment of time. We have to work in order to eat which brings with it all sorts of unwanted aggravation. We have to pay the bills. The budget needs balancing.  The house requires attention.  The needs of our family are paramount which means shopping, consoling, loving, car payments, doctors appointments, cleaning house and being sympathetic to troubled times and friends.  Time becomes so fragmented that our actual productive time is negligible, leading us to wonder if we are wasting our lives.  

When we meet I will ask, “How are you?” Sometimes the response is, “I am tired” or “I am so busy!” or “It seems I have less time than ever before.”  I think of Waiting for Godot.  

Awful visions are conjured up, of regrets piled high, of years frittered away. What portion of our life will have been well spent? Waiting for Godot can be a long process, as long as waiting for the Messiah.

The Fall will soon be upon us with the High Holy Days, school reopening and all the demands of the New Year. Many of our members have been involved with changing the face Columbia with me. I will ask you again to become a partner in continuing this powerful process through the good works of MORE Justice.  New beginnings.  Finishing old business.  

In the meanwhile I have a suggestion: Maybe this summer we can begin to worry less over the hardening of the arteries and work related problems and more about whether we make time to play in the sun. Remember the summers of your youth. Take a trip. Listen to some music.  Let your feet lead you into a dance with someone you love. Wander in the woods.  Walk on the beach and skip rocks.  Take time to breathe, live, pray and be home.

Sweet is the light and it is good

For the eyes to see the sun.

For if a person lives many years,

Let him rejoice in them all.  -Ecclesiastes

Our Gift and Purpose

We did not arrive alone.  That would have been impossible.  No one person could have made this trek.  The journey was made conceivable because of a spirit that set their souls on fire.  Once aflame nothing would stand in their way.

They came through the cauldron of the Holocaust.  They pushed past the pogroms that decimated Asia.  They persevered through the ghettos of Europe and the Inquisition of Iberia.  These same souls witnessed the snaking vile course of the Crusades and the Destruction of the Temples.

Throughout the epochs they carried Shabbat candles, tallit, tefillin, siddur and a Godly vision that kept them inspired. 

Samuel Beckett wrote, “We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment.  How many people can boast as much?” 

The same can be said for us.  We have not forgotten our destiny.  Otherwise, we would not be.

We are here because our ancestors refused to give up.  They maintained their fidelity, their allegiance to the God of Abraham and Sarah.  From one generation to the next the covenant has been passed down.   In our hands it now rests.

Abraham Joshua Heschel, visionary, scholar, theologian, wrote, “ Every seventh day a miracle comes to pass, the resurrection of the soul, of the soul of man and the soul of all things.  A medieval sage declared: The world which was created in six days was a world without a soul.  This is why it is said: ‘and on the seventh day He rested, vayinnafash’ (Exodus 31:17): nefesh means a soul.”

Our essential destiny is to infuse the world with a soul, to give an unruly world meaning and purpose.  Without our essence, our nefesh, the world would be chaotic and meaningless.  The purpose of life is not mere survival or conquest, it is much more lofty.  We render meaning because of our actions.

Yet, there is no reason to assume that we have arrived at our destination.  Sure, we have made significant inroads.  The world is largely monotheistic.  Most people realize the values of democracy, equality, and goodness.  These are among a few of the gifts of the Jews.  But our mission is far from complete.

I cannot tell you what our ultimate destiny will look like, or yield.  All I know is that the candlesticks, siddur, tallit, tefillin and vision are still needed.  Our inner core still yearns for completion; the wholeness that comes from living a life of purpose.

All those forbears that pushed through seemingly impenetrable barriers left us a package.  It is our inheritance.  Each week we open the package and read from it.  It is the Torah from Sinai that brings us light, hope, soul, and purpose.  But it is only yours if you claim it.