Standing At Sinai

Look at us

Standing at Sinai

Gathered together at the foot of a mountain to meet God.

Seriously?

It's too much to take in

Too big to describe

Like this mountain.

Maybe it's just a useful metaphor:

A mountain of the needy and the suffering

that we ignore every day?

Or a mountain of guilt, a mountain of debt?

Or maybe it's all of the knowledge we've yet to learn?

Or a mountain of fear, 
a mountain of the unknown, 
a mountain of uncertainty and procrastination and failure.

A mountain to roll a stone up, a mountain of opposition, 
Oy vey iz mere.

God is in the Law, in the right and the wrong of our choices,

This mountain is huge!

Or maybe it's just a regular old mountain, 

A very large pile of dirt and vegetation,

merely geology.

With trails to climb and

Rocks to stand on to take in the view.

Animals and bugs living in hidden places

Forming their own perfect worlds with no reference to us whatsoever, 
As long as we leave them alone.

Maybe this mountain is our earth, our world, 

To cherish and take care of or 

To abuse and ignore.

God is everywhere in nature and

We are only one small speck on the mountain.

Maybe this mountain is Mount Sinai

And we are waiting for revelation

Because God, the actual God of Torah and Talmud and Tikkun Olam

Is getting ready to show God's self to us.

Maybe all the truth and love in the world is actually making itself available to us,

We who have done nothing but cry and complain.

Poor hungry, scared us!

And this is more special and holy than we can take in.

So we look away and cover our ears

And God is in the marvelous silence.

So let us step up to the metaphors!

Step up to the dirt and the mysteries!

We are standing at Sinai

And it is all for us

However we experience it.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Ruach Ha Olam

Blessed One-ness, Breath of the Universe

We are humble in your presence

However you manifest.

And let us say,

Amen.

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We Dance Around The Shul

Our Torah is old.

The blue velvet cover

And the silver plate that hangs over the velvet

Are both covered in names

Of donors long gone,

And their honored loved ones, gone even longer.

These names mean nothing to us:

We ignore them

On Shabbat

When we dance around the shul.

On Selichot we put aside the old velvet

And dressed our Torah in fresh white covers,  
only a year old,

Donated by a beloved member,

Amina.

She died this year, four days before Rosh HaShanah.

Tonight it’s Simkhat Torah.

So we now take off Amina’s white cover

And put on the old one,

Blue, embroidered with strangers' names. 

Then we will dance around the shul.

We will think of Amina every year at this time 

From now on 

Until none of us are around,

Until there is no one who remembers her, 

Or us.

Then others will carry this scroll with the white cover

Donated by a Jew they never knew,

While they dance around the shul.

We give thanks for the ancient traditions, 

Telling the story even when we can’t, 

Keeping our loved ones’ memories 

And giving us Torah from the beginning, every year.