The Shabbat before the Eclipse
It is amazing when Jewish calendar events “coincide” with life in the larger world. How many knew that the total eclipse occurred on the last day of the year in the Jewish calendar? Jewishly that is remarkable because, while we count years, i.e. 5784 on Rosh Hashanah, the start of the 7th month in the Hebrew calendar, we count months, starting with Nisan, which welcomes the beginning of the Jewish people via Passover, 14 days later.
The connection to the eclipse is made in that God, in the Torah, shows Moses the new moon of Nisan and declares that this will be the beginning of the Jewish calendar, in tracking the moon, not the sun, with periodic leap years (as was the case this year, which is why Easter was a month earlier!) that add a second last month of the year, Adar II, to assure relative alignment with the solar calendar.
In celebrating the change in calendar, in leaving Egypt and slavery behind, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch comments on Moses’ experiencing the new moon of new beginnings, that “each time the moon finds the sun again, God wants God’s children to find HaShem again”. That commentary came to mind as this year’s welcome of the first month of the Jewish calendar was a celebration of the powerful relationship of moon and sun.
That Shabbat, Shemini, addressed several matters of coinciding life’s realities with intersecting spiritual experience and the mandate to integrate physicality and spirituality. Those experiencing the total eclipse reported that intersection, especially during the minutes of totality (which, among others, our member Ron Nathan experienced and will share photos at a later date).
That Shabbat reminded us in a variety of ways how vulnerable life is, and how we are obligated to find the spiritual in life’s daily doings. Eating is as animal-like an activity as there is, since all life depends on food. In that portion we were given laws to spiritualize that act, by accepting a selective diet, and with rabbinic expansion separating milk and meat, the first associated with life sustenance, and only existing for that purpose, and the second, the taking of life so that we can continue to live.
That Shabbat focused on the tragedy of the loss of Aaron’s two sons, Nadav and Abihu, for inaugurating the tabernacle, in the most excitingly anticipated moment of ritual connectivity with HaShem, on behalf of the people, only to be struck down for doing so inappropriately. What a terrible nightmare of a beginning of the launch of the tabernacle and the future Temple sacrificial system for drawing near to God.
Passover celebrates new beginnings, as a people, emerging somehow from human enslavement to a new way of integrating physical and spiritual reality in accepting God as our Ruler and, 50 days later, welcoming the Torah as our blueprint and guide for negotiating life’s vulnerabilities, fragility and responsibilities to bring spirituality into all pockets of physical existence.
From the first Passover forward, our celebration of our beginnings as a people, marked by this holiday, reflects conditions we live with as we celebrate this “second” Passover, the one we are in, as we traverse our lives, as in this year. This year’s observance is steeped in life’s reality: once again, as had so often been accentuated throughout the ages in Europe, when at Easter time, usually overlapping with Passover, we open our doors to Elijah, both to welcome the harbinger of peace and redemption, and also to show we have nothing to hide from those accusing us of blood libels and mayhem.
This year with Israel under threat in ways not seen since its founding, when Arab nations unsuccessfully attempted to destroy her in the War of Independence, our Passover celebration is a reminder that our enemies, from Pharaoh to Amalek, from oppressor to oppressor, have not dissipated since our tenuous survival after the Shoah.
Any given year we have 3 Passovers to consider: first, the original Exodus, the inspirational beginning of a People, unlike any other, that would face challenges of continuity and survival, through the ages. The second Passover, we are about to celebrate, with conditions for our people and our world about as tenuous as can be, with Iran and Israel in uncharted territory of enmity, and unresolved issues on all of Israel’s borders, and a world unclear on whether human rights are to prevail or more dictatorships, bringing us all back to Egypt, where God said we are never to return.
As troubling as Passover’s celebration seems to be, with such conditions and so many unknowns, we will find strength in gathering to welcome this new year of Jewish identity and perseverance. We will be strengthened by friends joining us in our 2nd night Seder, as we find comfort and inspiration in sharing our Feast of Freedom, in joining together, Jews and non-Jews supporting us. We will celebrate, unified as a community, dedicating ourselves to turn physical conditions that can be overwhelming with despair, doubt and hopelessness, into a drive to overcome the negatives and reassert commitment to bringing God’s Presence into our reality by working together toward a world of Shalom. That will be the day when everyone belongs, and differences are celebrated and valued and contributive to a world not eclipsed by darkness and negatives but brought to new light by positive alliances: those who know how much life in this physical realm is a miracle and a blessing, not to be ignored or discarded but to be cherished and consecrated. Passover accentuates gratitude to HaShem for a new beginning that enables us to codify our freedom and to work for a world in which freedom prevails.
I look forward to sharing this Passover with you as we move ourselves forward toward the 3rd Passover, celebrating the world redeemed.