Tarnished Faith/Faith Restored

Yesterday I had the great luxury and pleasure of spending the day on an interfaith clergy retreat with my local colleagues. Our session was held at a beautiful retreat center and camp situated right on the Long Island Sound.

My view of the Long Island Sound during my interfaith clergy retreat
My view of the Long Island Sound during my interfaith clergy retreat
As we sat gazing at the water, the facilitator made a request: listen to the silence, the “sound” from the Sound, the words from your soul. What do you hear?

The day was powerful and rich. Filled with collegiality, friendship, learning and an openness of spirit that come only from spending time with one’s peers.

I felt God’s presence suffuse the space: from both the majestic view that surrounded us, as well as from the sharing of our hearts and souls with each other inside the meeting room.

But feeling God’s presence is not unusual for me. I have a deep and abiding faith. From the moment I was born, my mother sang the “bedtime Sh’ma” to me every single night before she put me to sleep:

“Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad. Hear, O Israel, the Eternal is our God, the Eternal alone.”

The Sh’ma is a simple text. It is a declaration of faith. It reminds us of our connection to the Divine.

It was my mother (and father) who showed us by example what it meant to have a personal relationship with God.  My relationship with God sustains me and nurtures me to this day. And from the time I was born to this very day, I cannot go to sleep at night until I recite those words.

So last year, when one of my congregants and dear friends in Highland Park, Illinois, gifted me with a beautiful, silver Sh’ma necklace, I was very moved. She didn’t know my connection to this prayer. Or how it represented a link to both God and to my mother. I put that necklace on and haven’t taken it off since. It symbolizes my unwavering faith.

At one point during yesterday’s clergy retreat, I happened to look down and saw that my beautiful Sh’ma necklace had suddenly turned BLACK with tarnish! In the morning, the necklace had been perfectly shiny silver – and it had never tarnished before.

Tarnished Sh'ma Necklace
Tarnished Sh’ma Necklace
I noticed this during a particularly important part of our day: we were discussing “crises of faith” in a manner of speaking. In our spirit of trust and love, we were talking about difficult topics, painful feelings and questions that made us wonder.

It was as if my necklace was suddenly mirroring the feelings reflected in that room. And, the calm waters of the Long Island Sound simultaneously developed white-capped waves.

Doesn’t each and every one of us sometimes have a feeling that our faith has become “tarnished” or “blackened” when we reach a challenging moment in our lives or enter “troubled waters”? That we find it difficult to reach God when our burdens seem overbearing? How do we find a way to restore that lustre to our faith? To refresh and renew our relationship with the Divine so that we can feel God’s presence shining brightly in our lives?

Just like we need to work on our relationships with those whom we love, our relationship with God also takes hard work. When we question and struggle with issues, we are engaging in dialogue with God. When we join with community in prayer, social action, study and celebration, we experience God’s presence. When we reach out to those in need: of healing, of support, of friendship, we are bringing God’s light into our lives as well as to the lives of others. As Jews, we believe that we will come to know God through our actions, through our behavior. 

And so, my colleagues/friends found our time together yesterday restorative and affirming. It renewed our faith in the work we do, in the friendships we share, in the trust we have built and in God who gives us life and strength.

And my necklace is now shiny and silver once again.

Sh'ma Necklace - Polished
Sh’ma Necklace – Polished

Picking Up the Pieces

On Sunday, the weather was so beautiful that I decided it would be a great day to clean all of my outdoor furniture and prepare my backyard  for the warm weather. My backyard is a very serene and tranquil setting. It’s a perfect place for entertaining guests,  sitting with my morning coffee, reading and writing, or simply relaxing. 

My backyard
My backyard
I put on rubber gloves, filled a bucket with Pine-Sol, pulled out a scrub brush and hose and got “down to business.”

I started to scrub the glass-topped patio table, when suddenly, without any warning, the top shattered into thousands of little pieces. Thankfully, the thick rubber gloves kept my hands from being cut by the shards of glass.

Shattered glass table top
Shattered glass table top
The shock of this unexpected “bang” momentarily stopped me stunned in my tracks. I stood there just staring at the table and the ground for a moment. And then I realized that the glass must have suffered a hairline crack from the harshness of the winter. Thankfully, it shattered while I was cleaning, and not when I had a houseful of guests sitting there eating.

The rest of my day was spent cleaning up the broken glass and trying to restore order to the patio.

None of this is tragic. It was simply a table-top that shattered. A table can be easily replaced.

But I realized that the unexpected way  the glass shattered – from right under my very hands – is a metaphor for the fragility of life.

Our lives can shatter in an instant, just as the glass shattered so quickly, without warning.

Over the past few weeks we have witnessed this with the terrible earthquakes in Nepal, the Amtrak train crash in Philadelphia: life was normal one minute and irrevocably shattered the next.

Each of us has our own story: a spouse suddenly announces they want a divorce, or a loved one is diagnosed with some dreaded illness, or some devastating event shatters our world. One moment all seemed fine. And then, everything changed in an instant. Our world was turned upside down without any notice.

We might be paralyzed in our tracks by the shock of what just took place.

How do we continue? Where do we find the strength to pick up the pieces?

We gather strength from community, from the loving embrace of family and friends.

We can dull the sharp pain of the edges of broken shards when we reach out in love and support to those who are suffering, whether by word or deed, whether by offering a loving touch or just offering to sit in quiet companionship. We can be God’s hands, slowly but surely sweeping up the broken pieces and helping to restore life to a new sense of “normal.”

May we gain wisdom in our lives

overflowing like a river of understanding.

Loved, each of us, for the peace we bring to others.

May our deeds exceed our speech,

and may we never lift up our hand

but to conquer fear and doubt and despair.

Rise up like the sun, O God, over all humanity.

Cause light to go forth over all the lands between the seas.

And light up the universe with joy

of wholeness, of freedom. and of peace.”

(Mishkan T’filah, A Reform Siddur, pg. 287, Central Conference of American Rabbis, 2007, New York.)