In this week's Torah portion, Nitzavim, Moses delivers a profound yet easily accessible message of Jewish wisdom. Speaking to the Israelites on the threshold of the Promised Land, Moses declares that the wisdom they seek is neither distant nor mysterious. "It is not in the heavens," he tells them, "that you should say, 'Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us?'" Neither is it "beyond the sea." Rather, Moses reveals, "the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it" (Deuteronomy 30:11-14).
Recently, while preparing for our upcoming Jewish Book Festival and reading works by our kickoff author Mitch Albom (including The Stranger in the Lifeboat and Have a Little Faith) I found myself contemplating this very accessibility of wisdom and meaning. Albom's exploration of faith, tradition, and our human connections reminded me of a simple yet profound image, that of a newborn baby's clenched fists.
Watch any newborn, and you'll notice their tiny hands are tightly closed, instinctively grasping at the world around them. There's something beautiful in this natural response, an innocent, eager desire to hold onto life, to draw everything close, to connect with the world and the people who surround them. These little ones haven't yet learned to be cautious or distant. They reach out with wonder, seeking warmth, comfort, and relationships with an open heart and an unguarded spirit.
But somewhere along our journey to adulthood, many of us learn a different way of being. Life's disappointments, betrayals, and complexities can teach us to protect ourselves, to keep our hands open not in generosity, but in readiness to let go; to avoid the vulnerability that comes with truly holding on to others and the values that once moved us. We become cautious about investing too deeply in community, relationships, or even our own spiritual growth.
Moses' message in Nitzavim challenges this defensive posture. The Torah is not asking us to reach impossibly high or travel to distant lands to find meaning and purpose. The wisdom we need, the connection to the Divine we seek, the path to wholeness, it's all right here, "in your mouth and in your heart." It's in the words of kindness we speak to a neighbor, the prayers we whisper in moments of gratitude, the love we choose to express even when it's difficult.
As we stand just days away from Rosh Hashanah, we face a profound choice about how we want to begin the 5786 new year. Will we continue to live with open hands, ready to let go at the first sign of difficulty? Or can we find the courage to return to that newborn's instinct and to reach out, to grasp onto what matters most, to hold tightly to our values, our community, and our capacity for love?
This new year calls us to leave behind the cynicism and partisanship that can so easily divide us. It invites us to listen more deeply, to model the fellowship and togetherness our world desperately needs. The path to peace, both inner peace and peace in our communities, begins with the willingness to once again close our hands around what is precious and refuse to let it slip away.
This wisdom is not beyond our reach. It lives in every act of connection, every moment of presence, every choice to engage rather than withdraw. As we prepare for these Days of Awe, may we have the courage to grasp hold of what truly matters and begin the year with hearts both full and hands unafraid to hold on.
Join us Monday, December 1st at 7:00pm as Mitch Albom launches our Jewish Book Festival with a discussion of his new book, "Twice,” an evening that promises to deepen our exploration of life's most meaningful connections. For more information and to register, click here: www.jewishnaples.org/jewish-book-festival. Because we are Stronger Together!
|
|
|