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The following is Rabbi Sarah's current Bulletin article. For archived Bulletin articles and sermons, please scroll to the bottom of the page.

Hevre (Friends)—

The Jewish holidays, particularly the shlosh regalim (three pilgrimage festivals—Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot), follow the harvest cycle, tying together ancient agro-mythology of earthly death and resurrection with the human experience of despair and hope, loss and redemption. These holidays are deeply tied to the stories of the Israelites and the longer history of the Jewish people. At Passover we celebrate the redemption from slavery in Egypt, at Shavuot the revelation of Torah at Sinai, and at Sukkot the fragility of our relationship with God represented by the fragile nomadic dwellings of forty years’ journey, a result of the episode with the golden calf, between the revelation and settling in the land.

These shlosh regalim are warm weather holidays. Here in the midst of winter, I think of people who get SAD—seasonal affective disorder—when the sun is distant. We humans feel the absence of the life-force of the sun just as the animals and plants do, though we attempt to function through the year rather than hibernate. Indeed, we celebrate even in the depths of the winter cold and dark.

We have already anticipated the return of light and warmth in celebrating Chanukah, the festival of lights. Lighting first one candle, then two, until we reach eight candles, we anticipate the turning of the earth and the return of progressively longer, lighter days. In January we celebrate Tu B’Shevat, literally the 15^th day of the month of Shevat, in the Talmud called the “birthday of the trees,” with a special “seder” of fruits and nuts (see calendar). With the renewal of the trees—they begin to bud when it is still cold, and cold nights with warming days bring the flow of maple sap for syrup production—we mark the beginning of the earth’s rebirthing, redemption through the return of resources.

Typically, Purim arrives a month after Tu B’Shevat. This year is, however, a leap-year on the Jewish calendar (as well as the secular calendar, though this is not inevitable), and we must add not a single day as we do this February, but an entire month, between the month of Shevat and the month of Adar, in which Purim occurs. With little creativity, this month is given the name Adar Rishon, “first Adar,” and the “normal” month of Adar becomes Adar Sheini, “second Adar.”

Though Purim is not celebrated until the 2^nd month of Adar, this year in March, there is a holiday called “Purim Katan,” little Purim, which is celebrated in the 1^st month of Adar. We reserve the reading of the Megillah and the revelry of Purim celebrating the redemption of Persia’s Jewish community through the wit of Esther and Mordecai for 2^nd Adar. Nonetheless we consider Purim Katan to be a day of joy, and we are not to fast for any reason nor follow similar mournful customs.

We human beings do not have control over the rotation of the earth or the motions of the solar system. It is unreasonable to expect the seasons to be perfect only for growing, without a hibernation season (except in some equatorial regions), despite our own year-round lifestyle. It is perhaps equally unreasonable to expect the kind of perfection in humans that would be demanded in an ultimate redemption, with the coming of a Messiah. But in celebrating the redemptive qualities of the holidays, in this case Tu B’Shevat (salvation through earthly renewal) and Purim (whether katan or gadol marking the salvation of Persia’s Jews), we can also consider the possibility of our own redemption.

In a world without personal struggle there cannot be personal experience of redemption. Therefore I see the annual cycle of redemption, expressed in the Jewish holiday cycle, as a necessary cycle for every age and not a warm-up for an ultimate redemption. Redemption need not be a world made perfect, but may better be defined as survival and triumph of spirit, cyclically for each individual and each generation. In Judaism, we have numerous occasions to contemplate and learn redemption—in daily prayers, in weekly rest on Shabbat, in the holiday cycle, and in the life cycle. We lose, we grieve, we return, we learn—and we are hopefully strengthened for the next experience of loss or transition.

The Jewish cycle does not focus alone on redemption, however, but includes it with creation and revelation. In the Torah, creation comes first, then redemption, and finally revelation. In the Shema cycle, we reverse the order of revelation and redemption. Creation is primary. But redemption and revelation are, if not interchangeable, an irreducible unit. Revelation is not only on Sinai; it begins with the plagues in Egypt, not just experienced by the Egyptians but witnessed by the Israelites. Revelation comes in the process of redemption; redemption happens through the plagues, through the parting of the sea, and in the miracles of water and manna in the wilderness—all of which are revelatory moments.

Together, creation, revelation, and redemption are integral parts of individual as well as communal experience. We each are created, and through key moments in our lives we are each renewed and redeemed. Revelation is ongoing in this cycle of renewal and redemption. This process is true for individuals, it is true for small groups (including families), and it is true in larger communities. Stagnation is not a healthy expectation. Through our cyclical calendar, Judaism offers ongoing opportunities for individual and community (re)creation, redemption and revelation.

As the days begin to increase in light and warmth, I hope you find spiritual and physical renewal.