Last year, I spent a lot of time thinking about, and writing about, how the Jewish calendar leads us from destruction to joy.
After three weeks of destruction, we mark seven weeks of consolation. Ten days of repentance. The shortest of breaks, then seven days of Sukkot. And finally, the eighth (and ninth) most joyful day of Shemini Atzeret/Simchat Torah. From our saddest day to our happiest: 73 days.
Having paid particular attention to the cycle last year, by Shemini Atzeret I was personally ready to experience the climax of this cycle. I was ready for joy.
But that very morning… there was no joy.
All this last year, I’ve regretted and resisted and struggled and ached over the bitter truth that we really never rose out of destruction like the Jewish calendar expects us to. As we turn toward Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah again this year, I am still thinking about it.
Pondering this today, I remembered that the calendar — and Jewish tradition itself — never said there would be no destruction. Such a promise would have been unfathomable in the long sweep of Jewish history. On the contrary, Jewish tradition — sadly — acknowledges destruction.
And it whispers, “Rise.”
The calendar whispers:
I know it hurts. I know you feel broken. I know Hashem feels far, but actually Hashem is closer than you think. You can do this.
Don’t give up. Don’t sink into despair.
Get back up again.
Rise.
This year, there is endless sorrow to rise up from.
I pray that Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah starting tomorrow will give us the opportunity to rise. To acknowledge the pain, to be honest about all that is still wrong, and just maybe, for a moment? to allow the tiniest taste of joy to creep back into our broken hearts.
I don’t know if we will. But if the joy comes, I pray we have the space to allow it in. (h/t to Chaya Lester for sharing this Mary Oliver poem!)
May we soon see times that allow for the fullness of our joy. And may we see the remaining hostages come home soon and alive.
Chag sameach,
Evonne
P.S. Just saying, the paperback version of my novel The Prophetess is currently available on Amazon below list price. (Although I know it’s not ideal for everything, my publisher says that buying my book on Amazon is a good outcome for them.) Already read it? Nu, maybe it would make a nice gift for a friend?
P.S. Cyberspace being what it is, this email may have been flagged as spam in your inbox. I promise, it's really me, writing this post when I should be doing all the other things that need to be done before chag, like usual. (No bot would know that but you do, right?) If you want to see more messages from me, please let your email service know I'm real and writing to you from my author account, evonnewrites@gmail.com.
This message raises such interesting questions for me about joy. I suppose I'm fortunate to experience joy on a regular basis, but it is fleeting. Destruction will never cease (except maybe in the time of the Messiah if that should occur?) So, does that mean joy must always be partial? (Or can we feel a fullness of joy when we perceive that our own "tribe" is not suffering, even if others are?) Or can we feel a fullness of joy in the midst of destruction; allow a kind emotional turn-taking...?