 | Happy February, Shir Ami. After a cold, dark and bleak January, February ushers in the first hints of spring. Even now, the first almond blossoms are starting to blossom in Israel. It's time for Tu b'Shevat, Judaism's start of spiritual spring. If you're not ready, if it feels too early to matter, that's exactly the point. |
By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Punxsutawney Phil, get ready for Groundhog Day.
Pitchers and catchers, get ready for Spring Training.
Jews, get ready for spring.
As of right now, we're on the spring runway. The next three full moons lead us forward.
Though I know not everyone adores springtime, a deep human impulse across all cultures celebrates early the approach of springtime. Last week, the city of Utqiagvik on Alaska's arctic coast celebrated the sun's return after months of darkness. Druids and Celts celebrate Imbolc at solar midwinter (February 2), which they call the start of spring. Imbolc became Groundhog Day, the mostly-comedic first collective turn toward the hope of spring.
For Jews, the full moon of Tu b'Shevat marks Judaism's New Year of the Trees that became the start of spiritual springtime. And for Jews, this seemingly childhood event is a big deal.
Especially this year, because Tu b'Shevat coincides exactly with the start of Spring Training 2025 – which might as well be a sign from God.
Joking aside, Tu b'Shevat really is a big deal. Judaism, both culturally and spiritually, stands for the reality of things unseen – that sometimes, what is unseen can be even more real and impactful than what we see with our eyes. Jewish longevity, Jewish values, Jewish triumph over long odds, all depend on this core truth.
Tu b'Shevat radically symbolizes and expresses this core truth. Whatever the temperatures outside, on Tu b'Shevat we train our inner eye to begin seeing the sap rise in trees before we yet can see visible proof. (In Israel, first almond blossoms are popping even now.) We train our inner eye to see warmth amidst cold, light amidst dark, life amidst seeming lifelessness.
We need that inner vision now. And nobody needs reminding that, especially now, the stakes are high.
Some of us are deep in winter doldrums. Some are scared. Some are lonely. Some don't know quite where to turn or what to do. It all makes sense. Yet spring is coming. It's time to start seeing it not because it's plain to our outer vision, but because in Judaism what is unseen can be even more real and impactful.
At Shir Ami, we'll get a jump on Tu b'Shevat during the Shabbat of February 7. With song, a four-course wine and cheese seder, and acts of social justice timed to this moment, we will invoke this inner vision and begin readying ourselves for spring.
Because we need it. Because the world needs it.
Register now for Tu b'Shevat at Shir Ami ... and "Play Ball!"
Click here for more on how Tu b'Shevat fits into Judaism's spiritual calendar.
Punxsutawney Phil, get ready for Groundhog Day.
Pitchers and catchers, get ready for Spring Training.
Jews, get ready for spring.
As of right now, we're on the spring runway. The next three full moons lead us forward.
Though I know not everyone adores springtime, a deep human impulse across all cultures celebrates early the approach of springtime. Last week, the city of Utqiagvik on Alaska's arctic coast celebrated the sun's return after months of darkness. Druids and Celts celebrate Imbolc at solar midwinter (February 2), which they call the start of spring. Imbolc became Groundhog Day, the mostly-comedic first collective turn toward the hope of spring.
For Jews, the full moon of Tu b'Shevat marks Judaism's New Year of the Trees that became the start of spiritual springtime. And for Jews, this seemingly childhood event is a big deal.
Especially this year, because Tu b'Shevat coincides exactly with the start of Spring Training 2025 – which might as well be a sign from God.
Joking aside, Tu b'Shevat really is a big deal. Judaism, both culturally and spiritually, stands for the reality of things unseen – that sometimes, what is unseen can be even more real and impactful than what we see with our eyes. Jewish longevity, Jewish values, Jewish triumph over long odds, all depend on this core truth.
Tu b'Shevat radically symbolizes and expresses this core truth. Whatever the temperatures outside, on Tu b'Shevat we train our inner eye to begin seeing the sap rise in trees before we yet can see visible proof. (In Israel, first almond blossoms are popping even now.) We train our inner eye to see warmth amidst cold, light amidst dark, life amidst seeming lifelessness.
We need that inner vision now. And nobody needs reminding that, especially now, the stakes are high.
Some of us are deep in winter doldrums. Some are scared. Some are lonely. Some don't know quite where to turn or what to do. It all makes sense. Yet spring is coming. It's time to start seeing it not because it's plain to our outer vision, but because in Judaism what is unseen can be even more real and impactful.
At Shir Ami, we'll get a jump on Tu b'Shevat during the Shabbat of February 7. With song, a four-course wine and cheese seder, and acts of social justice timed to this moment, we will invoke this inner vision and begin readying ourselves for spring.
Because we need it. Because the world needs it.
Register now for Tu b'Shevat at Shir Ami ... and "Play Ball!"
Click here for more on how Tu b'Shevat fits into Judaism's spiritual calendar.
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