We are in the season of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur1, a Jewish high holiday sequence observed in the fall. A few years ago, I heard a podcast featuring Rabbi Sharon Brous. Her description of this holiday was captivating then, and I've returned to listen to that episode several times over the years. My understanding of this holiday and celebration is equivalent to one grain of sand on a long stretch of beach. But it's worth some exploration. There is deep wisdom in the progression of accountings, reflections on growth and regression, encapsulated in the ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, known as The Days of Awe.
The Days of Awe represent the beginning of a new year in the Jewish Calendar. So, just as late December and early January are a time of reflection and "New Year's resolutions" in our Western culture, the Days of Awe are preparation for the beginning of a new year.
In the podcast interview, she puts it this way: (slightly edited for clarity)
"It’s a journey from Heshbon HaNefesh, which is an accounting of the soul of the individual to Heshbon Nefesh HaMishpaha . . . looking at the way that we are in our family. [an accounting of the soul of our families]. {to} Heshbon Nefesh HaAm…by the time we get to Yom Kippur, {it is} an accounting of the soul of the Jewish people. Ultimately, Heshbon Nefesh HaOlam, is an accounting of the soul of the whole world.
FROM: On Being with Krista Tippett interviewed Rabbi Sharon Brous on the Days of Awe (September 2010) (click to listen and read more)
Alexander Shia is another wisdom teacher I’ve learned much from. As I thought about The Days of Awe, I was reminded of an online class I took from him last year. He said that Autumn is, for many cultures, the season of “new year”2 because as the days shorten and we move towards darkness, ancient, earth-based tribes and cultures recognized that “darkness is how we begin.” We all come from the darkness of the womb into light. Marking the new year in a season that moves towards darkness makes sense.
This autumn season is as so many of us sense a new beginning. I love how Rabbi Brous shared about these days. Before we begin a new year, we account for our soul, our family's soul, our community's soul, our culture, and the world we all share. Then, when we’ve reflected, repented, rebuilt, and repaired, we are ready to step over the threshold into the new year. This reverses what we usually do, dreaming about significant goals and setting new ones. These days invite a pause to deeply, honestly, prayerfully reflect and harvest the lesson before moving forward. Rebuilding and repairing is part of the movement toward the new year. The energy feels different. It feels like a purposeful, wise, intentional journey.
Several years ago, I found a list of questions after listening to Rabbi Brous's talk. Sadly, I can't figure out where I found the list of questions. However, the questions are worth sharing as they reveal what types of reflections this season offers. It is a list of questions that can be used to account for the individual soul part of the progression from individual to the world during the Days of Awe.
Accounting of the Soul:
Who am I?
Where am I in life?
In what ways have I let my insecurities and self-doubt stifle me?
In what ways have I hardened my heart to people around me?
What relationships am I in that diminish my dignity?
Have I let myself love?
Have I let others love me?
What pain have I caused?
What potential do I have?
Has my past year been marked more by longing or gratitude?
Has my past year been marked more by brokenness or wholeness?
Has my past year been marked more by distrust or faith?
Of course, these questions can also be used for the family, community, cultural, and world aspects. (What is our family known for? Does my community reflect love? What pain does my culture cause? Has our global life been marked more by distrust or faith?)
These days seem to remind us of how we are all connected to each other.
May we pause to reflect, rebuild, reshape, and repair our individual souls, and the souls of our families, churches, culture, nation, and world.
Blessing…
“In the darkness, in the valley of shadow, we can feel isolated and afraid. But once we have the light of hope, we begin to see just how many people share in our struggle. The first step toward community is recognizing our common humanity. Instead of seeing strangers in the dark, we recognize fellow climbers in the light.”
― Steven Charleston, Ladder to the Light: An Indigenous Elder's Meditations on Hope and Courage
Smaller and Deeper practices are small actions or ideas and can lead to deeper insights, knowledge, and growth. Smaller and Deeper is an invitation to remember that the small things done with intention often create transformation and growth.
In true smaller and deeper spirit, choose one question from the list above to ponder, walk, and pray with this week. (Only one!!)
Reading life is where I share what I’ve been reading recently or books that I’ve read that I’m still thinking about months or years later.
The Last Apothecary by Sarah Penner
In a hidden back alley of 1791 London is a seemingly empty room with a barrel of rotting grain, a place women in London whisper about. Letters left in the grain barrel are met with a small vial of poison and directions on how to use it to kill the men in their lives from a mysterious, low-profile apothecary. The apothecary’s mission to help women is suddenly in jeopardy as a tiny vial with a rough etching of a bear is discovered after an unexplained death.
In present-day London, a young woman, while ‘mudlarking” on the banks of the Thames, finds a small, blue bottle with the rough etching of a bear. The Last Apothecary is a novel spanning from 1791 to modern-day London. It’s written in alternating voices. We learn the story of the bottle and the women connected because of it.
This was an okay book. I enjoyed it, but upon reflection, some events were almost too much to believe. I listened to the audiobook. I’m glad I did, but it’s not a favorite.
A Glass of Blessings by Barbara Pym
Barbara Pym's novels follow a similar formula, but I never tire of it! This was the story of Wilmet, a modern married woman in 1950s London. Wilmet is aimless in her life. She enjoys taking Portuguese lessons with her mother-in-law, hosting dinner parties, observing, and reluctantly participating in her local parish life. Pym books are lovely because they are about ordinary people living ordinary lives, navigating normal pressures and annoyances with pluck and humor. I don’t know what the magic is, but there is Barbara Pym's magic! (Excellent Women is still my favorite, this one is probably a close second.)
The Wedding Dress Sewing Circle by Jennifer Ryan
When clothing rations began in England, women got creative. In a small town in Kent, the local sewing circle meets weekly to mend clothing for the community. When one of the members finds her mother’s wedding dress, the challenge becomes how they can repair the moth-worn dress to its former glory, or at least something better than being forced to wear “normal” clothing for the wedding. As they begin the project, a Couture fashion designer from London loses her home to bombings and makes her way reluctantly to her hometown. Jennifer Ryan writes beautiful novels about women in England navigating the difficulties they had to face. I loved this book. I got a little teary at the end. War times in England were hard; women pulled together to make everything work. Other Jennifer Ryan books I would recommend The Spy of Shilling Lane, Chilbury Women’s Choir, and The Kitchen Front, all are excellent!
Lectio Divina is an invitation to the practice of lectio divina. This a reminder to read for transformation rather than information. Smaller and deeper is hiding in plain sight daily when we slow down and notice what our hearts are whispering. Read the following passage slowly, more than one time, and notice if a word or phrase catches your attention. Invite those words into your week and see what deeper invitation they might hold.
~ “Messenger”
by Mary Oliver, from Thirst
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.
New Year Energy
Traditionally and culturally, New Year is celebrated on January 1st. I don’t like it. January 1st doesn’t feel new. It’s winter and cold where I live, and the days are short. I find it hard to embrace the promise and vitality of a new year in January-even if the calendar, news, and social media tell me (over and over) it’s a new year.
I very much appreciated your sensitive interpretation of the Jewish high holidays - and you offered reflections that I had not considered in spite of growing up Jewish. The one addition I might offer is that in many schools of Judaism the soul is less "accounted for" than it is "read" as a sacred text and thus interpreted rather than tallied. One prays "to be inscribed in the Book of Life" for another year. Thank you for creating this bridge between Judaism and Christianity in a personal and caring fashion. --Norm