One Day

Bereshit

Gen. 1:1 - 6:8

 

Précis: The first Book of the Torah, Bereshit (Genesis, literally “in the beginning” or “When God began to create”) begins with the familiar story of creation. The world is created in six days and God rests on the seventh. The stories of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden are included, as is the story of Cain and Abel.

            We begin the annual reading of the Five Books of Moses immediately upon its conclusion. Why? Perhaps it is because with each passing year, our experiences allow us to understand more of what life has to offer, and what the text has to offer. Yohanan Ben Bag Bag said (Pirke Avot 5:25), “Turn it, and turn it, for everything is in it. Reflect on it and grow old and gray with it. Don't turn from it, for you have no better standard of conduct.”

  

Gen 1:5 “And God called the Light "Day" and the Dark "Night." And there was evening and morning, a first day.”

            Rabbi David E. Levy, writing in ReformJudaism.org (10/23/16) made note of two different sources of insight which I personally find interesting. One is a podcast called “99% Invisible” which has a premise of “uncovering ... all the thought that goes into the things we don't think about — the unnoticed architecture and design that shape our world.” The second was a work by Thomas Cahill, “The Gift of the Jews” (Anchor Books, 1998).

            Levy notes that our usual translation for “a first day” is incorrect. The Hebrew says “yom echad,” literally “one day.” All of the other days are listed as “the second day, the third day, etc.”

            Why this discrepancy between a cardinal number and ordinal numbers for the following days? He cites Rambam’s explanation: “... it is not possible to say, 'the first day,' since the second one has not yet been made; as ‘the first’ is before the second in counting ... [only] when they both exist ...” Rambam is suggesting an additional “invisible” creation: the concept of linear time. This is precisely the kind of analysis one can frequently find on the podcast I noted at the outset: something which is apparent only when one thinks closely about the specifics.

            Thomas Cahill notes in his book that the concept of linear time was something new to humanity, introduced by Jewish thought. All other peoples thought nothing ever changed (it’s always been that way”), or that time was somehow circular. As Cahill says, “Since time is no longer cyclical but one-way and irreversible, personal history is now possible and an individual life can have value.”

            What does this small difference really mean to us? By recognizing that time is linear, we are reminded first that this is a New Year, and that we and our world can change. Progress is possible. A new future is possible, and we need not repeat the errors and mistakes of our past. 

Assembly

     This coming Shabbat, we observe the festival of Shmini Atzeret, probably the least known or observed holiday on our calendar. It lacks the intensity of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. It lacks the joy of Sukkot, and the singing and dancing of Simchat Torah. Chanukah gets more play at home, and Purim is perhaps the most fun-filled day of the year. Pesach is a time for serious storytelling and eating. Shavuot gets a bit more notice because of its link to Sinai. 

    If you ask 100 Jews what Shmini Atzeret is about, I’m guessing that perhaps 1 in 100 will actually know. A couple will probably say that it somehow is tied to the end of Sukkot. Some may know that many Jews (those in Israel and many Reform Jews) celebrate Shmini Atzeret on the same day as Simchat Torah. Some may know that the day before (this year, Friday) is the last day of Sukkot, called Hoshanah Rabbah, which is not really a holiday at all, but is a day for special prayers, and the last day we are obligated to sit in the sukkah. 

    One meaning of “Atzeret” is “assembly,” from the Hebrew root meaning to gather together. Rashi tells us that the holiday demonstrates God’s reluctance for us to depart from His Presence which began on Rosh Hashanah. 

    This year, I focus on the meaning of assembly. We were, for the most part, unable to “assemble” together in any traditional sense. Some scattered few were able to attend socially distanced services, and others watched synagogue services through streaming.

            I wanted to make a special mention of my friends of many decades, Neal Meiselman and his wife Terry, who have organized what we call the “Accidental Chavurah” using Zoom, at first every Shabbat, and once our congregation began streaming, occasionally for services. But on all occasions, we enjoyed a “JFK” (just for kiddush), when we have virtual conversations with friends and acquaintances, sometimes theme-based and other times just keeping tabs on each other. Neal and Terry always ask us not to thank them, but Todah Rabbah to both of them. 

    On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we divided our on-line experience between the congregation’s stream and our own Zoom, with participants of our “chavurah” taking major and minor roles in our virtual service. Neal’s recitation of Unitanef Tokef was incredibly stirring, given that we wonder more now than at other times “who will live and who will die.” It was wonderful to hear the youngest leading Ein Kelohenu or Ashrei. Reciting Yizkor and saying kaddish together in our “Accidental Chavurah” was memorable and meaningful.

            As we come to the conclusion of this run of holidays, I give thanks that we have had the ability to form and maintain our “assembly” together, and hope that we can assemble together soon, person to person, praying together as we have always done. Bimhera biyamenu (May it be immediately in our days).