We Will Dance Again!

  The season of Yamim Noraim is coming to a close, and we are all beginning to build our sukkahs- some even last night. As we go from a quite serious time of year to a festive one, as we know that regarding Sukkot it says ושמחת בחגיך - be happy in your holiday, it feels like a sudden change. How can we switch from one mode to another so quickly? Likewise, this year we know that Simchat Torah- known for its happiness, is a day when a terrible tragedy occurred.  On one hand “עוד נחזור לרקוד” We will dance again!  On the other hand, there is deep sadness. 

How do we switch to happiness? And, should we let go of the seriousness/sadness? As I had mentioned in my column last week, I joined a workshop by Ohel and one of the primary questions they asked was the dilemma on how to mark the day of October 7th. Do we rather put the focus on the horror, trauma and the tragedy so we do not risk losing what happened?  Or should we focus on the heroism and  poignant optimism?  

Rabbi Doron Perez, in his article “Broken Completeness” begins by sharing that the shofar was used for celebration- coronation of a king, and other occasions when the Jews were gathered to celebrate.  But we know that the word תרועה also means “a broken sighing sound.” On Rosh Hashana we celebrate with Yom Tov meals, but we don’t say Hallel. So, he wonders- is the shofar a sign of celebration or crying?  His answer is that “they are both at the very same time.”  The brokenness of Rosh Hashana is also a celebration. 

So, too with the word שבר. We normally think that the word שבר means broken. However,  In Bereishit 42:1 when Yaakov is sending his children down to Egypt to get food during a famine he says:

וַיֹּ֕אמֶר הִנֵּ֣ה שָׁמַ֔עְתִּי כִּ֥י יֶשׁ־שֶׁ֖בֶר בְּמִצְרָ֑יִם רְדוּ־שָׁ֙מָּה֙ וְשִׁבְרוּ־לָ֣נוּ מִשָּׁ֔ם וְנִחְיֶ֖ה וְלֹ֥א נָמֽוּת׃

Now I hear,” he went on, “that there are rations to be had in Egypt. Go down and procure rations for us there, that we may live and not die.”

In this case שבר is not broken or a painful word, but it is a solution to a crisis.  It means to acquire grain.  It means sustenance. And, Yoseph is called the משביר- the sustainer. Somehow the word שבר can mean broken and sustaining at the same time. 

And, likewise with the matzah from Pesach.  It represents לחם עוני- bread of our affliction which we ate as slaves, but also represents the bread we ate when leaving as it had no time to rise.  “By now, of course, we know the answer- it is the duality (and dichotomy) of human life…” 

Rabbi Perez points out that in Kohelet 3 it states  לַכֹּ֖ל זְמָ֑ן וְעֵ֥ת לְכָל־חֵ֖פֶץ תַּ֥חַת הַשָּׁמָֽיִם Everything has an appointed season, and there is a time for every matter under the heaven. However, interestingly enough if you look at the pasukim, for example pasuk 4:

 עֵ֤ת לִבְכּוֹת֙ וְעֵ֣ת לִשְׂח֔וֹק עֵ֥ת סְפ֖וֹד וְעֵ֥ת רְקֽוֹד

A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time of wailing and a time of dancing.

Notice it doesn’t say “A time to weep or a time to laugh, a time of wailing or a time of dancing” - it says “and” - as if one weeps and laughs simultaneously or wails and dances at the same time. There are times in life when we do both. That is the state he calls “broken completeness.”  It is okay to celebrate, and to have sadness as well simultaneously.

In fact, Dr. Norman Blumenthal at the Ohel workshop stated that the ability to remember the sadness along with the happy times is a predictor of resilience. He referenced to a research study on the “oscillating narrative.” When children learn their family stories- their history-  including both happy and difficult “stories,” (oscillating between good and bad), it helps create a shared history, strengthens emotional bonds and helps them make sense of their experiences when something senseless happens- like October 7th. 

 Dr. Robyn Fivush, from Emory University where the study was conducted, states, ““When we don’t know what to do, we look for stories about how people have coped in the past….A horrific event happened on 9/11 for example; we were attacked. But we came together as a nation, persevered and rose back up together. Such narratives help build a shared capacity for resilience. That’s true for nations and it’s true for families…. We found that in families that talked in more coherent and emotionally open ways about challenging family events with 10- to 12-year-olds, the children coped better over the two-year period than in families telling less emotionally expressive and coherent stories about their challenges…Adolescents are especially hungry for these kinds of stories, she adds. “If they roll their eyes, so be it, they’re still listening,” Fivush says. “It’s the really mundane, everyday stories that reassure them that life is stable. It provides a sense of continuity, of enduring relationships and values. They need to know that they come from a long line of people who are strong, who are resilient, who are brave.The definition of who they are is not just something independent and autonomous, spun from nowhere. It’s embedded in a long, intergenerational family story.”  Ultimately, the goal is to help children construct a coherent story that validates their feelings while helping them think of resolutions. 

Some mistakenly think hiding sad circumstances from our children will help them be happier. But, in essence, when difficult situations inevitably happen to them, they will have no “oscillating narrative” from which to gain strength. 

And, so when we speak about Simchat Torah/October 7th and still maintain happiness, we show them that we can be sad, but still continue and endure. We should note the sadness, but engage in the happiness at the same time. We speak of the tragedy, but also focus on the strength of the Jewish people- to move on, to laugh, to have Emunah, to be united and yes…to dance again.

We will be happy, but we will always remember.  As Lesli Koppelman Ross writes in her article, “The Importance of Remembering,” “It is memory that has allowed us to last through thousands of years of history. Our religion and our people are founded on the collective memory of revelation at Sinai. Scripture throughout commands us to remember: Remember the Sabbath day (Exodus 20:8), observe the Sabbath as a reminder of the Creation (Exodus 20:11) and of the Exodus (Deuteronomy 5:15); remember, continually, the Exodus; remember what the evil Amalek did… All those memories define us and help us keep focused on the goal of our national mission. As the Baal Shem Tov (the founder of [Hasidism]) taught, “Forgetfulness leads to exile while remembrance is the secret of redemption.” 

In fact, as Mendel Kalmenson points out in his article “History Or Memory?”, in Hebrew, there is no word for “history,” as the word “הסטוריה” is clearly straight from the English, which was from the Greek.  He points out that the absence of the word in the Hebrew language indicates that there is no such thing as “history” in Judaism, rather there is זכרון- remembering, found numerous places in Tanach and Jewish thought. “It goes far beyond semantics, cutting straight to the core of Judaism’s perception of the past.  You see, “history” is his-story, not mine. The first two letters of “memory,” however, spell me. Memory is a part of me, and history, apart from me Without me there is no memory.  Put differently: History is made up of objective facts, and memory of subjective experience.”

And, so, Kalmenson continues, that Judaism is not interested in recalling dry facts, but rather in “reliving” experiences.  That is why there is so much reenactment in Judaism. We don’t just commemorate, we remember. We don’t just recount someone else’s story, we relive our own. Some noted examples, the seder, sitting in the sukkah, sitting on the floor on Tisha B’av or staying up all night on Shavuot.  Kalmenson continues to explain that revelation at Har Sinai itself substantiates this “memory.” We were all present at Har Sinai- all present and future souls.  This is different from other religions where G- d only reveals Himself to the prophet, upon whom they must trust to relay exactly what he heard. G-d was not simply the G-d of our fathers, but rather the G-d that we each heard from ourselves.  In Judaism every person- to the lowliest servant- heard G-d. And, G-d addressed each one of them, “Anochi Hashem Elokecha” - and not elokeichem.  As each one of us lived the event at Har Sinai, “it turned our nation’s most seminal event into a living memory as opposed to a lifeless history.” 

As we spend hours building, decorating and living in our sukkot, we are in fact reliving the experience of the Jewish people living in the desert- where Hashem took care of them.  Despite their living in flimsy shacks- Hashem protected them with the ענני הכבוד- the clouds of glory. The Vilan Gaon questions then why do we not celebrate Sukkot right after Pesach, in Nissan? Isn’t that when the Jews entered the desert? He explains that in essence Sukkot actually commemorates that after Cheit Haegel- the sin of the golden calf- the clouds of glory returned as Hashem forgave them.  That is why we celebrate Sukkot on the 15th of Tishrei. Hashem forgave us on the 10th (Yom Kippur) and then their relationship was reborn and the clouds returned. 

We as Jews consider the oscillating narrative of the hard times that our ancestors experienced living in sukkot in the desert, and the happiness and security of Hashem taking care of them. It was hard, but they picked themselves up and in unity they felt the closeness of Hashem.  And, because of that memory we know that as we celebrate Simchat Torah this year, we are going through hard times, like our ancestors before us, but we too will pick ourselves up and in unity עוד נחזור לרקוד- We will dance again!! 

Advisory Update: 

Sixth Grade: Students began a unit on organization.

Seventh Grade: Students continued learning key elements to good communication.

Eighth Grade: Students continued discussing the elements that go into the high school decision.