| As Elul begins, I always feel a certain excitement—a rush of energy since I know that the Holy Days are just a few weeks away. Part of my excitement is the inclusion of Psalm 27, “Adonai Ori V’Yishi,” “The Lord is my light and my rescue,” into the liturgy for the season.
In the past, I’ve found Psalm 27 to be very uplifting. The tone of the poem is strength and comfort: “Whom should I fear?” (vs.1) In years past, I’ve read the words of this Biblical passage and found it to be so appropriate to the season of supplication—seeking God’s mercy during the Days of Judgement.
But now, during the time of global pandemic, I have to admit that I find the affirmative words of Psalm 27 to be almost too assertive—too assertive of a faith statement in which the Divine will rescue me.
In verse 3 we read, “Though battle is roused against me, nonetheless do I trust.” In times past, these words would have nestled comfortably in my sometimes too trusting heart. But this year? This year, we are faced with an invisible foe in which each of our neighbors might bring us low. We are faced with racial strife reflecting rot at our social core. We are faced with economic challenges that our country has not seen since the Great Depression. And we are faced with a test of leadership that we haven’t seen in generations.
And then there’s the kicker in verse 4: “Only one thing do I seek, to dwell in the House of the Lord.” But this year, we might not even be in Shul on Yuntif! We won’t even get to spend our Holy Days worshipping in the House of the Lord!
And so I find myself in an internal battle. On the one hand, it’s all too easy to slip into despair, a state of being that itself becomes far too familiar the longer it goes on. On the other hand (fortunately, Jewish thought always provides us with at least one “on the other hand”), Psalm 27 presents us with an important “nevertheless.” I take the words of the Psalm to mean, “Realistically, life can be pretty difficult, full of evildoers, foes, and enemies (vs. 2); a camp marshalled against me (vs. 3); false witnesses rising up against me (vs. 12).” Yes, life during Elul this year seems daunting. But there is a force within our faith to buttress us against all of these external enemies and even against our own internal anguish. In the concluding verse we are told (asked? beseeched?) to hope: “Let your heart be firm and bold.” (vs. 14)
Admittedly, it can take a pretty big leap for us to go from despair to hope. The Psalmist is aware of our apprehension during times of challenge and great uncertainty. The Psalmist is asking us to assert hope in the face of gloom, based on our faith in God.
We know that times are terribly challenging right now. To deny it would be madness. And yet, Psalm 27 gives us the formula for getting through this time until we reach a time when we truly will be able to “Dwell in the House of the Lord” (vs.4). Psalm 27 asks us to assert a great “nevertheless”—even though these times may be taxing all of our strength, we are required to step into the unknown, into the comfort of faith, in order to “Let your heart be firm and bold.” (vs. 14)
Nancy and I wish everyone Shanah Tovah. May 5781 bring us strength of spirit and boldness of heart to emerge from this time with hope in our hearts. |
