Shanah Tovah!
Two years ago I could/would have never considered going away, even for two days, right before Rosh Hashanah. Instead, like most congregational clergy, I scheduled time off after Simchat Torah. With YourJewish, however, I have a different flow of calendaring.
I’m launching a series of small groups that all begin right after that holidays and won’t be able to get away then. Beyond this, I am only leading one program for Rosh Hashanah and one for Yom Kippur with no major sermons to perfect and rewrite. More importantly, with my move away from the pulpit, also came a commitment for better life balance. Instead of missing 2/3 of my son Asher’s soccer games because of work, this season I only missed one. I could go on and on about this but my point is that I made the still somewhat crazy decision to go away in the days leading up to Rosh Hashanah and am getting back home just in time for school pick up as we enter the holiday. And I can, without question, say that I could not have dreamed of a better way to personally prepare for the season than to completely immerse myself in nature in a way I’ve never really done before.
And even though it was short, it was profound. My partner Jake, who is a seasoned camper, took me on my first REAL camping experience hiking the Superior Hiking Trail from Oberg Mountain to Lutsen and back. I’ve tent-camped many times, but never the kind of camping where you carry everything you need on your back. We had to filter our water from a creek, eat dehydrated food from a bag, hang our food in the air to keep away bears, and deal with the complete lack of cell service, and complete lack of bathrooms for 2+ days. I was ready for, and expecting, all these things.
What I wasn’t expecting was the personal impact of the immersion in nature and the sense of yira (awe) associated with the darkness, the stars, and the beauty. I was blown away by the contrast between the day and the night in the woods and thought regularly about our ancestors who didn’t have any of the luxuries we have today to avoid dealing with the nighttime. In all my experiences camping, I’ve never been so emotionally impacted by the fear of the nighttime. The absolute pitch darkness at 8pm and the howling of the wind, and other bizarre noises of nature, completely messed with my mind and invited every imaginable fear of how this year of 5784 might end… who by bear, who by tree branch, who by wildfire (we actually saw a small wildfire in Ludsen on our hike).
I cannot imagine doing this alone, as many people do. And then contrast this by the stunning beauty of the daytime… the trees at prime peak, the flowing stream of the creek, the winding trails through the thick forest, and the vastness of Lake Superior from an overlook. It all made me feel so small and truly soak in the power of the text on my right ankle, “va’anochi afar v’efer - I am but dust and ashes.” It was a reminder at the most perfect time of year that we are all a small spec in this beautiful, powerful, stunning, and sometimes dangerous universe.
It was the message I needed to hear at this moment to round out the text on my other ankle that reads, “bishvili nivra ha’olam - the world was created only for my sake.” The feeling I get when I’m needed in the world… needed by my kids, my network of family and friends, and needed by an emerging community of folks who are looking for a new way of gathering Jewishly. To feel so big and so small at the same time.
I am so grateful to have had this experience at the most perfect time and also grateful to be re-entering reality as we close out an immensely tough year for the Jewish people and pray for a sweeter year ahead.
I'm looking forward to seeing many of you tomorrow morning to celebrate Rosh Hashanah at the Arboretum! To those celebrating in other ways, I hope you have a spiritually meaningful celebration that is full of blessing!
Shanah Tovah to all and may it be a sweet new year for the Jewish people,
Rabbi Jill Avrin
