Approaching Harvest: A Sukkot Meditation

60 T I K K U N W W W. T I K K U N . O R G S E P T E M B E R / O C T O B E R 2 0 0 8 Approaching Harvest: A Sukkot Meditation by Dan Goldblatt I arrived at the synagogue with lulav and etrog in hand. I got a call on my Palm Pilot from a woman who was going to help lead the service with drumming, body percussion, and a rhythmic grounding of the tefillah. She was coming from a nearby town and wasn’t sure if she had the directions right. My mind wandered ... East, West, North, South, Heavenward, Ground of Being. I assured her that she was properly directed and told her how delighted I was that she was coming on this evening of Sukkottohelpusbetterembodythetefillah;totakeusclosertoourownheartsafterwehad comethroughtheintensityoftheyamimnoraim,theDaysofAwe,wherewehadbeatoutthe rhythmsonourchests,wherewehadbeendoingheart...beatstocallourselvesback,totryto returntoournaturalinternalrhythms. IturnedoffmyPalmPilot,andgraspedthelulav.Igreetedpeopleastheyarrivedwiththe usual hugs, welcoming them into sanctuary heart to heart. I noticed that the lulav caught theirattention,astrange,vaguelyfamiliarvisitorintothesacredspace.Itwassplayedonthe amud, the Torah table, hadasim and aravot branching out from the spinal palm. The etrog, allwrappedupinitsbox,waitinginthewingstomakeitsstarappearance.Iwatchedthechildren look at the lulav, quizzical, wondering ... this collection of tree limbs sitting in such a Dan Goldblatt has been rabbi of Beth Chaim Congregation in Danville, CA for the past 15 years. He serves on the Boards of Aleph: the Alliance for Jewish Renewal and OHALAH: The Association of Rabbis for Jewish Renewal. EDITORS NOTE: For the benefit of our non-Jewish readers, we’ve included a shortglossary. Sukkah—a temporary shelter erected forthecelebrationofSukkot etrog—citron aravot—twowillowbranches hadassim—threemyrtlebranches lulav—palm branch; also refers to the aravot, hadassim and lulav gathered andheldtogether tefillah—prayer kahal—community niggun—rhythmicwordlessmelody shul—synagogue Religion.qxd:Politics rev. 8/10/08 1:28 PM Page 60 placeofhonor—theTorah’splace. A soft niggun calls the kahal to awareness. Our lovely drummer catches everyone’s attention. Signals from a long ago place. A story flashesthrough my consciousness like anunexpectedguest.ItisanAfricanstoryfromcenturiesago: One day, the drummers of a large village were sitting near the shore, listening to the seawashingupagainsttheedgeoftheirworld,listeningtothenaturalrhythmstolearn betterhowtoconnecttheirpeopletothegroundofbeing.Theyweretheholdersofsacred wisdomoftheirpeople.Theyprovidedthepulseforcelebrations,theorchestralbacking for movement and dance, the essential canvas and connective tissue for all sacredstories .Theyknewthesoundsthatallowedforgrievingandwereabletohold thespaceforthedeepestpainandmostprofoundloss.Theywerethekeepersofthe soul music of their people, among them the shamans, the spiritual guides. As theysattogether,allofthem,thewizenedeldersandtheyoungestinitiates,they heardothersounds,peopleapproaching. Outofthetalltreestothenorthcamealargegroupofstrangemen,armedand clearly in the hunt. The drummers felt the danger in their viscera and turned to maketheirescape;thesewerethedreadedslavers,andthedrummerstheirintendedprey . Astheyturnedtorun,theysawanothergroupofforeigners,brigands,coming out of the forest from the south and from the west. They were trapped, caught; every drummer ,everyone.Tofightwastodie,andsomejoinedtheirancestorsratherthanbeingtaken.It endedquickly.Theelderswhowouldneversurvivethetripwerekilledonthespot.Alltheothers were tethered like livestock and led away, leaving their precious drums, the work of their hands,woodandskins—sacredinstruments—scattered,abandonedonthesand.Beforethey couldevengraspthetragedy,theywereloadedontotheshiplikecargo,thrownintothedepths oftheship’shold. Lost,disconnected,grievingfortheirfamiliesandlovedones,theymadethevoyage,beatingoutthesoul -wrenchingsoundsagainstthewoodenwallsoftheirseagoingprison. Theancientwisdomwouldsurvivethroughthemintheirenslavement,butwhowouldunderstand ? Who would comprehend the subtle drumbeats, the powerful language of drumminghand ,ofsacred,tribalcommuning? Drumbeats rouse me from this reverie. Our percussionist has warmed up the gathering, readying them for our celebration. On this evening of Shabbat and Sukkot, I wonder if we, here now, can possibly connect to our ancient tribal wisdom, so far removed from harvest, fromagenuineconnectiontotheearth. I offer words of welcome and introduce our special musical guest. Before we move more deeply into prayer, before we welcome Shabbat, we will connect to Sukkot with lulav and etrog. I silently consider what it must have been like for a farmer to assemble living symbols of harvest—myrtle and willow, palm and citron. To hold them together must have been so natural, a simple and elegant ritual of gratitude. The harvest gathered—full or lean— another year’s growth to be stored for the winter. Sustenance from the Ground of All Being. Produce from good labor. The work of the family, kin, the tribe. Gathered together, after the workwasdone;topause,tocelebrate,tobetogetherinthedeepestappreciationoflife. Wearenotfarmers.Mostofushaveneverevenbeenonafarm.Someofushavegardens, mostly a novelty, a pleasurable indulgence. Knowing nothing of real harvest, we turn to metaphor,reachouttotrytomakeameaningfulconnection.IpointtotheSukkahoutsidein thecourtyard,andthankthepeoplewhoerecteditforus.Weneedtoberemindedthatonthis night,whentheweatherhasbeguntoturn,whentheheatofsummerhasevaporatedandthe first chill of autumn has descended, that in our own wealthy county, there are more than seven thousand souls who have no home to warm themselves in tonight...