When I began with Shir Ami one year ago, the "early" High Holy Days were fast approaching. Our first months together sometimes felt like launching off an aircraft carrier. This year, we get a real summer. Rosh Hashanah won't be until October. This summer, we get to take it slow. What's spirituality on the slow? |
Happy July, Shir Ami! And happy "rabbiversary." July begins our Year Two together. We have a first opportunity to look back on where we were this time last year, and slowly dream our best future together.
Slowly. Did I mention "slowly"?
At this time last year, the High Holy Days were fast approaching. The calendar forced me to launch into the Season of Meaning as if from the tiny runway of an aircraft carrier. That's why, at exactly this time last year, I dedicated my first Rabbi's Corner's column to the High Holy Day runway poised to begin just days later. There was hardly time to say hello.
But oh, not this year. To correct for calendar drift, Rosh Hashanah is delayed until October, so this year we get a long Jewish summer. There'll still be a long, slow runway to the High Holy Days – as there is each year – but not yet. (Our seven-week runway will begin August 13.)
So if you're reading these words during the first days of July 2024, odds are good that I'll be on a beach, boat or hammock somewhere – and maybe you, too. However you most enjoy these long early summer days, I hope you relish them.
Spirituality on the Slow
Many centuries ago, rabbis observed that the Jewish month of Tishri brings so many holidays – Rosh Hashanah, Kol Nidre / Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret / Simhat Torah – while the subsequent month of Heshvan has none. To the rabbis, the sudden drop in spiritual intensity was so jarringly sad that they called Heshvan bitter (in Hebrew, מר / mar, as in מרור / maror). They even renamed Heshvan as Marheshvan – "bitter Heshvan."
No offense to rabbis past, but I see nothing mar about a month without holidays. I don't see anyone lurching to rename this month mar-July. Intensity can be important and sometimes even necessary to meaningful and impactful spirituality, but not always. We all need a break – and breaks can be spiritual, too. We all need slow times – and slow can be spiritual, too.
For Shir Ami and other Jewish communities that do a summer downshift, July is less centrally organized and perhaps less communal. It naturally begs the question of what "doing Jewish," what Jewish spirituality, means on the slow.
I won't presume to prescribe what your answers should be. But I do hope you'll ask yourself the question. It's a real question because we don't stop being Jewish. Summer doesn't find us undergoing personality transplants. We don't toss away our values and beliefs. We're still us. And it's a useful question because our answers mirror back our values and priorities, and also prepare us to shift focus when the High Holy Day runway begins.
Slowly. Did I mention "slowly"?
At this time last year, the High Holy Days were fast approaching. The calendar forced me to launch into the Season of Meaning as if from the tiny runway of an aircraft carrier. That's why, at exactly this time last year, I dedicated my first Rabbi's Corner's column to the High Holy Day runway poised to begin just days later. There was hardly time to say hello.
But oh, not this year. To correct for calendar drift, Rosh Hashanah is delayed until October, so this year we get a long Jewish summer. There'll still be a long, slow runway to the High Holy Days – as there is each year – but not yet. (Our seven-week runway will begin August 13.)
So if you're reading these words during the first days of July 2024, odds are good that I'll be on a beach, boat or hammock somewhere – and maybe you, too. However you most enjoy these long early summer days, I hope you relish them.
Spirituality on the Slow
Many centuries ago, rabbis observed that the Jewish month of Tishri brings so many holidays – Rosh Hashanah, Kol Nidre / Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret / Simhat Torah – while the subsequent month of Heshvan has none. To the rabbis, the sudden drop in spiritual intensity was so jarringly sad that they called Heshvan bitter (in Hebrew, מר / mar, as in מרור / maror). They even renamed Heshvan as Marheshvan – "bitter Heshvan."
No offense to rabbis past, but I see nothing mar about a month without holidays. I don't see anyone lurching to rename this month mar-July. Intensity can be important and sometimes even necessary to meaningful and impactful spirituality, but not always. We all need a break – and breaks can be spiritual, too. We all need slow times – and slow can be spiritual, too.
For Shir Ami and other Jewish communities that do a summer downshift, July is less centrally organized and perhaps less communal. It naturally begs the question of what "doing Jewish," what Jewish spirituality, means on the slow.
I won't presume to prescribe what your answers should be. But I do hope you'll ask yourself the question. It's a real question because we don't stop being Jewish. Summer doesn't find us undergoing personality transplants. We don't toss away our values and beliefs. We're still us. And it's a useful question because our answers mirror back our values and priorities, and also prepare us to shift focus when the High Holy Day runway begins.
Using the three-legged stool of Pirkei Avot 1:2 – "The world stands on three things: Torah (learning), service (prayer) and acts of loving-kindness (giving)" – here are some of my own personal answers about what Jewish spirituality can be on the slow:
Learning. SoulSpa on Saturday mornings will continue this month, but Shir Ami's weekday learning program is off until mid-August. (On August 13, we'll launch an exciting seven-week series on Repair and Repentance. The link is for the book, which we'll read together.) Meanwhile, in summer's slow lane, you still can learn. Choose a Jewish topic and go for it. If you don't know where to start, or if you have a subject in mind but don't know where to look, let me know. Nowadays high-quality materials are available online, folks can learn together wherever they are (several Shir Ami members are doing that just because), and I'm always up for one-on-one schmoozing. As for me, I hope to learn some Maimonides and Arabic grammar as a way of nuancing my Hebrew.
Praying. Despite the lots and lots of liturgy that I know, I don't need liturgy or the fixity of a community's times and ways in order to pray. Neither do you. All one needs is an open and courageous heart. Spirituality on slow means taking time to notice: notice blessings, notice beauty, notice your mind clutter and heart longing. Give your noticing words, and it becomes prayer. If the word "prayer" trips you up, use "mindfulness" or "beingness." As for liturgy, it's true that liturgy can be helpful and even important, but liturgy also can become a crutch – an excuse to use someone else's words and avoid discovering our own. My teachers' teacher, whose 10-year death anniversary comes this month, famously banned his students from using liturgy to pray if ever prescribed words felt hollow. "Go find your soul," he'd tell them. This month, I plan to take his advice, and embrace this practice in my personal life: prayer without liturgy. Anyone wanting personal guidance is welcome to contact me.
Giving. The world needs more than we ever could give, and slow time unfortunately means that many worthy causes inside and outside the social justice and helping sectors experience a slowdown in charitable giving. Because of my day job, ethically I can't encourage anyone to give to any specific cause, but I can invite all of us to seek out a new cause that honors our values. Use this slow time to consider, research, and open your hearts to giving. Every bit helps, and every bit helps put power to our purpose. I plan to do the same, focusing on an important but underserved pathway for social betterment.
Happy summer, Shir Ami. Take it slow. See you soon!
Learning. SoulSpa on Saturday mornings will continue this month, but Shir Ami's weekday learning program is off until mid-August. (On August 13, we'll launch an exciting seven-week series on Repair and Repentance. The link is for the book, which we'll read together.) Meanwhile, in summer's slow lane, you still can learn. Choose a Jewish topic and go for it. If you don't know where to start, or if you have a subject in mind but don't know where to look, let me know. Nowadays high-quality materials are available online, folks can learn together wherever they are (several Shir Ami members are doing that just because), and I'm always up for one-on-one schmoozing. As for me, I hope to learn some Maimonides and Arabic grammar as a way of nuancing my Hebrew.
Praying. Despite the lots and lots of liturgy that I know, I don't need liturgy or the fixity of a community's times and ways in order to pray. Neither do you. All one needs is an open and courageous heart. Spirituality on slow means taking time to notice: notice blessings, notice beauty, notice your mind clutter and heart longing. Give your noticing words, and it becomes prayer. If the word "prayer" trips you up, use "mindfulness" or "beingness." As for liturgy, it's true that liturgy can be helpful and even important, but liturgy also can become a crutch – an excuse to use someone else's words and avoid discovering our own. My teachers' teacher, whose 10-year death anniversary comes this month, famously banned his students from using liturgy to pray if ever prescribed words felt hollow. "Go find your soul," he'd tell them. This month, I plan to take his advice, and embrace this practice in my personal life: prayer without liturgy. Anyone wanting personal guidance is welcome to contact me.
Giving. The world needs more than we ever could give, and slow time unfortunately means that many worthy causes inside and outside the social justice and helping sectors experience a slowdown in charitable giving. Because of my day job, ethically I can't encourage anyone to give to any specific cause, but I can invite all of us to seek out a new cause that honors our values. Use this slow time to consider, research, and open your hearts to giving. Every bit helps, and every bit helps put power to our purpose. I plan to do the same, focusing on an important but underserved pathway for social betterment.
Happy summer, Shir Ami. Take it slow. See you soon!