Rabbi Weill's Blog

Dear Friends:

Autumn and the natural world changes: cool air stings. Geese propel themselves southward, honking as they go, while squirrels bury and munch, munch and bury, fattening themselves. Leaves turn yellow, orange, red, brown, and then fall thick on our lawns. And on farms, the harvest is hauled in.

In early autumn, we experienced the great emptying of Yom Kippur, removing sin from our souls and food from our bodies. We then hurtled into Sukkot, which celebrated not emptiness but fullness – hearts full of joy, storehouses full of grain. And finally, in America, we celebrate Thanksgiving, filling tables with family and food.

The John Keats ode, “To Autumn” (1819), captures this season’s abundance perfectly. It begins:

            Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

                        Close-bosomed friend of the maturing sun;

            Conspiring with him how to load and bless

                        With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run.

Such is autumn. But then, the natural world’s abundance recedes, giving way to yet more emptiness – winter: icy white by day, long darkness by night, with life-squelching cold.

For some, winter is difficult. But it also presents an opportunity, for on Chanukah we fill that dark emptiness, manufacturing and increasing light for eight days.

This is the Jewish way. Each day is an empty vessel, and we insist on filling it with goodness. Not only holidays, but every moment is an opportunity for sanctifying, for filling with holiness. Each step and half-step we take presents an opportunity to do a mitzvah, to do an act of kindness, to thank G-d for the shocking pleasure and privilege of existence.

May we fill our souls with this insight! May we fill each moment with joy and gratitude. And may our synagogue be full of opportunities to pursue an abundance of good and holy pursuits.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Jeffrey Weill