Rabbi's Corner

It was a moment in the hair salon.  A little girl named Eleanor and her older brother Sam were entertaining themselves while they waited for their names to be called. In the small, mostly open waiting area, they were playing hide and go seek.  Back and forth they went, from one hiding place under a bench between two customers to the other hiding place under a bench by their mother. They took turns sometimes looking in  unlikely places like behind the cash register, pretending they didn’t know where the other one was. They went a-hiding and a-seeking with a back-and-forth alacrity that rocked and rollicked this brother and sister like a cradle soothes an infant.  In what lay the tireless thrill?  Was it the guarantee of discovering what was hidden?  Was it the suspense of being found?   For certain, they delighted in their existence as they repeatedly confirmed each other’s place in the world.

The childhood game of hide and seek describes for many of us our relationship with God. For those of us who are spiritual seekers, we find ourselves, like Eleanor and Sam, on an active search.  We seek out the path that will lead us to a feeling or a knowing that confirms for us our place in this world. We call this path the way of Adonai. We call it Torah. For many this path is obscured by a bramble of daily pressures, mind-numbing distractions, and politics of any kind.  To cut through this overgrowth, we need a blade of goodwill. To prune the profane we call on the wisdom of our traditions. This regular clearing and pruning of your spiritual path becomes your spiritual practice. It is a discipline that can keep you up at night trying to decide the next right step.

The lights of the Chanukah menorah that burn at the darkest time of year remind us that our searching is not in vain. We begin with a single light and move toward infinite light, reminding ourselves that even in the darkest moments our commitment to living a moral life, a holy life, does not waver. That we remain steadfast in our search and that our commitment to a Jewish life endures can even at times feel miraculous.

This Chanukah may you find what you most need to illumine your path and to confirm your place in this world.

Shalom rav,

Rabbi Amy