It's been a wonderful Shabbat. A bit rainy this morning, but what can ya do. And really, it's hard to complain about the rain while reading a parasha in which the Israelites are worried about purchasing water as they wander in the desert.
Last night we took a moment out of our service to remember the lives lost at the 1972 Munich Olympics, and to reflect on this historical tragedy in light of Tisha B'Av. It was a particularly powerful experience for the camp.
Thank you to the LITs who helped make this Shabbat so great! May all paths look bright as you "stand on the edge of the future."
Sincerely,
-Joy Getnick
CSL Judaic Educator
Week 4 (LITs)
Theme: Standing on the Edge of the Future
My dad once remarked that I always seemed happy. He noted how I’d enjoyed every stage in life, and always found a way to ensure happiness and contentment whatever my circumstance. I remember agreeing with him, and feeling proud.
As I stand before you today, I feel extremely blessed. I have a wonderful husband, and two fantastic little cats. I love our home, the neighborhood, the area. I’m close to my family, I have great friends, and I love my jobs. Sometimes I actually feel guilty that I’m so happy because I know so many others are not, but how do you feel guilty for being happy? And so instead I remind myself to embrace it, enjoy it, and then pay it forward.
I think that one of the reasons I’ve always been really happy is because, as my dad noted, I always felt I fit in with my current stage in life. I liked being in first grade, but I also liked eighth. I loved high school, and while socially college wasn’t my favorite, I loved the academics, and the intellectual opportunities that college is designed to provide. Each stage in life presented new opportunities and expectations. I enjoyed the opportunities and met the expectations, and thus was happy.
The opportunities at age twenty-eight are endless. I can do or be anything I want. Yet in a way, that incredible span of opportunity can also be overwhelming. The same for the expectations. Am I supposed to be married with kids? A good friend from high school is still working in an entry level yet dead-end office job in NYC trying to make it as an actress. She’s twenty-eight. At what point does one need to settle down and get a “real job?” And to that end, what is a “real job?” She goes to work five days a week. She has a supervisor and responsibilities. She receives a paycheck. Is that not a “real job?” At one point does one need to pick a path?
This week we read Parasha Devarim, the first parasha in the Book of Devarim or Deuteronomy. The parasha begins with the Israelites standing on the edge of the Promised Land looking into their future, and they were scared. The Israelites insisted that Moses send spies to see if the Promised Land was really as safe as God had said. Even after the spies returned and said “yes, the land is good!” the Israelites were left unconvinced. Parasha Devarim tells us that the Israelites hid in their tents, fearful of the large cities and strong enemies that they feared lay lurking in Israel. God saw the Israelites, and realized that despite all they’d been through in Sinai they still didn’t trust that God would keep them safe. So God decided to punish that generation of Israelites – the generation that had left Egypt – by not letting them enter the Promised Land. Instead, God decided that it would be the new, younger generation who could enter and inhabit Israel.
Whether we like it or not, the future will come. Each choice comes with consequences, good and bad. It’s up to us to pick our path wisely, to think critically about who we want to be and how we get to where we want to go, because just because we don’t pick a path doesn’t mean we’ll stand still. As the Israelites learned in parasha Devarim, the consequences of standing still, of hiding in fear, can be worse than any path.
I have no idea what age twenty-eight “should” look like. I don’t know if my friend should give up on becoming an actress or give it another year. I don’t know when one needs to settle down, if ever. I learn from Parasha Devarim to be less fearful of the unknown, of the endless opportunities the future may hold. I relearn instead something I actually knew well as a child: to embrace the stage in life I’m in, to worry less, and not forget to enjoy this exciting age of twenty-eight, because twenty-nine will come soon enough. Shabbat shalom.
