G-d Doesn’t Lose Track of Us: Yom Kippur Reflections

Yom Kippur continues to inch upon us, and for some, it is going to be a difficult day emotionally.  We go through the same routine every year, inflicting ourselves by fasting, acknowledging our sinful nature and promising to at least try and do better in the coming year. And of course, thanking G-d for his redemption no matter how undeserving we are. Sometimes it’s a fairly smooth process. Other times it is raw and tough.

For many individuals in my life at the moment, this is going to be a particularly difficult day that forces us to reflect on pain and trauma we are still trying to navigate. Some years Yom Kippur is a reinvigorating recognition of what G-d has done for us, while other years (such as this one), it is the tender spot a doctor touches in order to diagnose the core disease.

Wanting to make this day as reflective, personal, and intentional as I possibly can, there have been a lot of emotional preparations on my end. However, as with most times and seasons, there are traditions that have stood the test of time which offer guidance on how to make the most of our experience.

This year, for me, it is the story of Jonah.

Traditionally, the book of Jonah is read and analyzed on Yom Kippur. I’ve overheard many people speculate why that is, and theories tend to vary from person to person. But it’s a tradition taking place all over the world on this sacred day, year in and year out. And somehow, in a variety of ways, it is relevant.

This year, in particular, Jonah’s story is a punch in my gut. I’ve heard it since childhood. It’s a story that can be found even in the most watered down (no pun intended) storybook Bibles. It’s one of the popular ones we memorize as children and recall easily into adulthood. And yet somewhere, somehow, I forget the grit of a major message in the story.

Jonah demonstrates an important reality. Yes, we learn that running away from G-d is pointless. But we don’t always find ourselves purposely running from G-d. That aspect isn’t always relatable. Sometimes we’ve been following Him all along, and confusingly find ourselves lost and seemingly without direction. Sometimes we find ourselves in a panic because no matter how hard we tried, something pushed us off course. Sometimes we expect the thunder and lightning when G-d is working through the whispers of a still small voice we’re struggling to hear.

But in that confusion, we can still gain from Jonah’s experience. He thought he could hide from G-d. He hopped a ship heading in the opposite direction of where he was commanded to go and snuck his way to the very bottom of the hold. And in response, G-d did him one better. Jonah was tossed into the sea and swallowed by a whale.

Jonah found himself in the deepest darkest place physically possible.

And yet, that was not too far for G-d.

In Jonah, we find a comforting example. Each of us experiences a deep dark place at some point. Some have been there in the past, some continue to waver in and out, and others are there now. We don’t necessarily find ourselves there because of a decision to run from G-d. Some of us find ourselves stumbling into that area in the middle of our journey, feeling confident that we’ve been going in the right direction but suddenly wondering what went wrong.

Regardless of how we get there, wherever “there” is, Jonah’s story demonstrates that G-d knows exactly where we are. No matter how deep we find ourselves, He can still hear every word in our hearts. There is no place we can go that isn’t within His reach, and it is impossible to be outside of G-d’s watch.

G-d never ever loses track of us.

And that is a message to absorb during Yom Kippur. Whether we’re struggling through correcting what we’ve done wrong, or we are bruised and battered by something pushing us into an unpleasant or even scary circumstance, or (more likely) we’re dealing with a little bit of both, we are in good company along the way. Of that, we can be absolutely certain.

And if He knows where we are, He also knows the way out.

Yom Kippur, in essence, is a time to stop our thrashing from fear of drowning. It’s a time to admit that yes, we’ve done things we weren’t supposed to. And yes, things were done to us that were unjust.

It is a time to acknowledge just how desperately we need G-d to save us and surrender to that need. Insightful to the fact that we sometimes need prompting, G-d has given us Yom Kippur to cry out for His help while knowing that He can hear our wails from wherever we are.

But even when we’re swallowed into what seems like unreachable depths, we’re never abandoned. Sometimes sin is reactionary to fear. Sometimes it is a symptom of our confusion. But at some point, it is time to refocus from that distraction and realize that no matter how deep and dark things seem…G-d has already saved us from the deepest and darkest place possible. And now that it’s been done, He most certainly isn’t going to leave us behind now.

For those fasting from sundown on Tuesday to sundown on Wednesday: May your fast be safe, intentional, effective, and meaningful.

Teaching Our Children The Story Of Passover

Ever since our first year of marriage it has been a tradition for my husband and I to eat matzo pizza while watching Prince of Egypt at some point during the week of Passover. It is one of the most beautiful depictions of a Biblical event that exists, and no matter how many times I’ve seen it I am always struck with the magnificence of the Passover story. I cannot watch (or listen to) the burning bush scene without my emotions being rubbed raw. Between the dialogue and music it always manages to bring the sting of tears into my eyes.

So, you can imagine the conflict I felt when my son (who has yet to see the movie) asked to join our annual viewing. On one hand I was excited. Finally I get to share this gorgeous biblically based filmography with my kid. On the other hand I was hesitant. Is he ready for certain scenes? Is he ready to know the specifics of what Moses was up against?

This year Passover has gotten a little more exciting than it has before. My son, being 3 1/2 years old, is at a point in his life where he is starting to internalize the more abstract workings of the world. This means that as we prepare for Passover he is asking a lot of questions. Why do we need to buy special crackers? Why do we need to deep clean the house? What is a Seder, and why do we have to eat horseradish? Sometimes his questions have a straightforward response. Other questions require significantly more detailed explanations and a careful choice of words. Exodus is packed with the theme of G-d’s redemption and the fulfillment of His promise. I am beyond joyful to share those elements with my children. There are, however, darker portions of the narrative. Slavery. Murder. Even justice is a struggle to understand in the situation of the exodus. Telling only half of the story isn’t good enough. To understand the magnitude of G-d’s miracle, one must be aware of what Israel was being freed from, and what it took to accomplish that redemption.

I am a firm believer that if children are able to ask the right questions, they are ready for at least some version of an honest answer. Yet I don’t feel ready to explain to my small child the wrath of G-d,  and it pains me to introduce him to things such as slavery and oppression. His perception is still innocent. In his mind people are still good and the world is a safe place to live. Evil isn’t something that has caught his attention yet, so why point it out while he’s still in this very brief moment in life where everything is secure?

As much as I wish to keep him in the dark for a little longer, I am also against the idea of purposely withholding honesty in favor of over protectiveness. He has been asking questions, therefore I have been delicately crafting careful yet honest answers. As we prepare for Passover this year he has become a little more aware that there are, in fact, bad people in the world. There are people who hurt other people. There is unnecessary sadness caused by evil. And sometimes, in order for the greater good to prevail, G-d responds with force.

As my mind shifts from the chaos of seder preparations to the intricacies of how to explain what is true in a way that is not going to scar a child’s mind, my thoughts are also churning over the deeper messages I as an adult still need to contemplate during this season. Part of observing Passover includes the acknowledgment that people around the world have always suffered, and continue to suffer, under the hands of oppression. Persecution and annihilation attempts directed toward Israel didn’t stop upon leaving Egypt. From Antiochus’ desecration of the Second Temple, massacres taking place as a response to blood libel in the 1100’s, the still-tender memory of the holocaust, or the more recent comments made by leaders such as Iran’s former president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad (e.g. Israel is a “disgraceful blot” that needs to be “wiped off the face of the Earth”), antisemitism has presented itself within every generation.

And if it isn’t antisemitism it’s other people, in other places, with other versions of suffering.

Rwanda. Cambodia. Child soldiers. Bosnia. Darfur.  Blood diamonds. Guatemala. Sudan. Isis. Human trafficking. Civil war.

We have a list of buzzwords that can easily cause us to wince and recoil, because they serve as reminders of atrocities human beings are capable of. This is all too evident as news reports and videos of the recent Syrian chemical attack make their rounds in our media at this very moment. As I sit here contemplating how best to comfortably present a movie to my child because it depicts an animated and watered down version of evil, parents elsewhere in the world do not share that same luxury. The nightmare of such maliciousness is an everyday reality for them, and it has no care for the age of it’s victims.

I take for granted that I am able to shelter my children from the vile ways people can treat one another. I have the ability to protect their innocence, and build for them a foundation of safety and security. That is a blessing I am relieved to have, and I bow my head in thanks for the mercy G-d has given our family.

But that is all the more reason to not shy away from the specks of curiosity our children begin to show. Our unviolated safety makes it even more important for us to introduce them to things we would rather pretend don’t exist. Eventually these issues will hit their radar. They will process a little more clearly the events described in their books. They will catch snippets of news reports and over hear the adults whispering among one another. The existence of evil won’t be hidden forever, and when we leave them to process this information on their own we run the risk of allowing such things to turn their hearts and minds bitter.

We need to confront the situation and we need to extend a guiding hand for our children. We need to teach them that they can be different than this. They can be the difference. After Israel came out of Egypt, G-d introduced them to laws that included instructions such as feeding the poor, caring for the orphans and widows, and treating the sojourners among them humanly. The commands within Torah are filled with love and compassion. After being redeemed from enslavement and abuse, Israel is called to be something better than those who had oppressed them. They are called to improve the world by example.

This is the element I cling to when talking to my children about the Exodus, and all the baggage that comes with such themes. Yes, there are bad people in this world. Yes, people hurt other people. There is no use hiding from it since those truths will be crystal clear eventually. But rather than pulling the covers over our head and pretending there’s nothing to be done, we need to think about what contributions we have to fix our situation.

Fred Rogers, known as the beloved Mr. Rogers, once said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things on the news, my mother would say to me, ‘look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping'”.  As we explore these difficult topics with our children this is the attitude we need to have. While they are still young and soaking in all we have to instill within them, we need to point out the warriors who combat nefariousness with love, compassion, and mercy. We need to draw attention to the midwives Shiphrah and Puah, who’s fear of G-d led them to defy Pharaoh’s command to kill newborn Hebrew boys. We need to point out the “righteous Gentiles” who helped hide and aid Jews in Europe during the holocaust. We need to show them the various ways people continue to work toward feeding the hungry, caring for the sick, sheltering those in need of protection. We need to teach our children how to become those people.

I could give it another year. I could choose to ignore the grit of what Passover is, and leave it as a holiday where we have a fun dinner and eat special crackers for a week. But a lot of development happens in a year, and more of my son’s personality is going to establish itself within that span of time. Eventually we have to teach our kids this reality, because it is not something we want them stumbling upon elsewhere. We shouldn’t let the bad overshadow the good. We have to be intentional in pointing out that for every mean person who raises their hand against others, there are good people rushing to defend. We learn our history so that we don’t repeat it. We retell these stories so we become familiar with what went wrong in the past, as well as what went right even in the face of monstrosity. There is a G-d who has upheld His promises and will continue to do so. The world is currently suffering, but He will intervene at the time He deems right.  He led us out of Egypt, He brought us our Messiah, and we can confidently believe with complete faith that He will come back to correct the wrong and bring restoration. Until then, however, we have our own work in repairing our broken world. Despite the challenges that are sometimes found in upholding kindness, compassion, mercy, and love, it is what we are called to do.

I want my children to grow into people who stand up in righteousness. I want them to be an example of love that casts a light against the shadow of hate. These lessons start in our home and from there they are carried to the playground, extra curricular activities, schools, work places, and wherever else life takes them.

So I stick with my original conviction that if children know the right questions to ask, they are ready for some version of the truth. We don’t have to side swipe them with the gory details that can haunt their psyche,  but being age appropriately upfront and honest at a time when personalities are being cemented is, perhaps, one of the most effective ways we as parents can change the world.