My friends just has a baby. Mazal Tov! May she and her holy parents be blessed with the bounty of HaShem, abundant goodness.
A baby, a new person into this world? How? From where? She weights 2.2 kg. She occupies a certain amount of space. That is, if you put her in a bath a certain fixed amount of water will be displaced. Nine moths ago a sperm and an egg had a meeting. Mom was born with the eggs already inside ready to go; that is, they formed while she formed in her mother. So too did the egg that 'Ima was born from form in her mother, and with every mother all the way back to the first birth. Then, the sperm. Well, that gets produced inside the father's body regularly. Okay that makes for a decent technical explanation, but I'm still left wondering. I mean, I'm really in a state of wonder when I look at this little person. How did she get here, this baby? How did we get here? It's impossible to say that our coming into this world is weird. And in a sense, we've always been here. I mean this world is all recycled materials, forming and transforming, decomposing and recomposing in various forms.
Then again, though some of us have a stronger sense of this than others, we know we haven't all ways been here. We come from the Ayin Sof, from the boundless field of potentiality. -There's a rationally unintelligible statement if ever one was made. Still, in a way, it's the only true statement we can make. It's the most we can know and the least we can know about our origins at the same time. But do we come to somewhere, or do we become something or someone really? What's fixed? My new infantile friend, injests and eliminates, like we all do. She's in a state of constant integration and transformation like the rest of the world.
I heard someone say the other day that it's impossible to know what it means that the "universe is expanding" because, well, really what is it expanding into? It was a darn good question. Then I hold this baby and I know the incontestable truth of the statement.
It's Chanukah again in this universe. How many olives did I eat this year? Of how many olives did I enjoy that satisfying bitter saltiness? How many squishy, juicy, tender delicious morsels did I chomp on, squeeze through my digestive tract, glean nutrients from? And how much light did I radiate?
For the first time, I am this year lighting a Chanukia with olive oil lights, as in those days at these times in the Holy Temple, in the city of peace, wholeness and completion. It's amazing.
I'm eating olives and watching the lights illumine my otherwise dark space. Sit a small stone next to a olive pit. Ostensibly these two things are similar, right? What makes the big difference? Well you put them both in dirt, add water and sun, and what do you get? You get an olive tree and a small stone next to it. And then, wait a few years, and you get fruit growing from wood. That's right, fruit growing of wood in this womb of a world. Who would expect that? When I see fruit growing on a tree, I don't believe my eyes. And then, squeeze the fruit, and you get oil. Olive oil in this case. And you can stick in a wick and add a spark and Bam-O-Fire, the rapid oxidation of carbonous materials resulting in light and heat. A miracle. Recap: Olive pit plus time, love, the womb of the world, and a spark equals LIGHT. Who would believe in that?
But where would we be without light? And where are we without hope and trust?
Is this the time of miracles? Yes. I know it is. I was in a friend's house last year and saw a sign saying, "WE DON'T BELIEVE IN MIRICLES, WE DEPEND ON THEM". Then why is it sometimes so hard to pray, to believe that good things are on the way, surrounding us and are infusing us, working for us and through us? Just looking at a newspaper, there seems to be ample evidence that we're in a hand basket moving towards an unfortunate destination at warp speed. I mean, it's so hard for me to believe, trust, or even hope, at times I hold my breath. Before I take my three steps back, I wonder if I will pass out from oxygen deprivation. Wait, that's not what prayer is supposed to do. I'm standing there expecting to get a slap for asking for too much. I wonder what have I done to deserve the minutest amount mercy, kindness or love. It's the voice of "din", judgment, the "inner critic". The prosecution takes the stand.
I feel like too much of our lives and times our generation and our chronicles are plagued by "bad Jew" syndrome: "I don't want to be a bad Jew, so I better do X, Y, and Z…", or "I don't want to wonder if I'm a bad Jew, so I will not do X, Y, and Z to remind myself that I don't play that game…". Either case is motivated by the same sad motivation. We are feeling the squeeze both individually and collectively. As an "AM", people, and then again as global community for those of us who see clearly that our actions and word and thoughts all have impact in this G!d place. Everything increases or detracts from the light. To know that the squeeze is for the good, that good oil comes from a good squeeze, there is some relief in this. Then we have to remember not to squeeze too hard and not to crush the precious seed that promises life to the next and all subsequent generations of fruit-bearing, light-bringing trees. Our actions and word and thoughts all have impact in this G!d place. So I want to remember to think something nice about myself and someone else, say something nice to myself and someone else, and do something nice for myself and someone else everyday. I look at this infant and I'm overwhelmed by how much free love and kindness a baby needs to live in this world. I hope that I can remember that we are all big babies when the forces of darkness and anger, impatience and frustration enter my consciousness.
Do you know how much love infuses this world? Fruit grow on trees made of wood. That is, delicious, eatable, nourishing, life-sustaining fruit grows out of wood. Trees grow out of the earth. It's mamash one big womb. And babies-gevalt-babies are born to enjoy and share and spread and take part in the light. So next time you encounter your most hopeless moment of the day, however low or not low it is, remember, light comes from the Ayin Sof in this world through all kinds of unimaginable and unexpected forms . That's kindness. That's amazing kindness. And however bad things get, always look at the bright side of life. It's not enough to remember this once in a while, we need constant reminders. Like a reminder to wake from a dream.
Thanks to the community at Bat Ayin for helping remember this holiday. Happy Chanukah.
Eliyahu Dror
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Eliyahu Dror is a former student of Yeshivat Bat Ayin. He is currently working for the Yeshiva as Administrative Director. |