Holding It Together When the Going Gets Tough
“In the beginning G-d created the heavens and the earth.”
(Genesis 1:1)
The year was 1986. On an early Friday morning, I stood in line at the kosher bakery, waiting patiently to issue my order for Shabbat challot and, perhaps, a chocolate babka. My toddler daughter, Gabrielle, gripped the hem of my skirt as I directed the clerk along the various shelves and glass enclosures. Five-month-old Yael was tightly swaddled in a denim Snugli and maneuvering packages and babies was proving difficult.
Gabrielle whined, “I want a Bereshit cookie!”
“A what?” I queried.
“A Bereshit cookie!”, she wailed, pointing to a tray of the pillowy black and white, classic East Coast treats. It took me a New York minute to unravel why she was calling them Bereshit cookies and not the customary moniker, ‘Black & White.”
What my three-year old was referring to was the fourth line of the Torah’s opening chapter in the book of Genesis: “And G-d saw the light that it was good, and God separated between the light and between the darkness.” Every religiously observant parent knows that the first book of the Torah is intensely covered in song, tale and holiday pageants and is rarely surprised when their children lift quotes from the holy text. I was so nonplussed at the time; I only recalled this incident four decades later.
Today, Gabrielle is the mother of nine children and bakes her own Black & White cookies each year, in commemoration of the new cycle of Torah reading. I watch in awe as her own children sing the same songs that she and her siblings sang, continuing our legacy by adding another layer to our unfolding Jewish legacy and, please G-d, ultimate redemption. It is this delicious, cyclical aspect of our lives that brings me so much comfort, especially after almost nineteen months of a brutal war that was imposed upon us with unbridled ferocity. How many men and women have questioned their faith in these months, shakily asking if G-d exists and if so, what is the message that He is trying to impart?
This month, we commemorate Lag B’Omer, when 24,000 students of the great teacher, Rabbi Akiva, were felled by a terrible epidemic. These students were brilliant, destined to strengthen Torah study throughout the civilized world except for one terrible shortcoming in their characters: They did not demonstrate love and respect for one another. Towering scholars, they should have been role models but were arrogant and dismissive. Hence, tragic consequences befell them.
On Lag B’Omer, we are reminded that we need one another. Each new Torah discovery, read year after year, is unique to those who come upon them. And consequently, the new “take” or discovery enriches the entire Jewish nation. No Jew by himself, regardless of his respective erudition, natural genius or hard work, can acquire the totality of the Torah. We pray in a quorum for a reason. As stated in Ethics of the Fathers (Pirke Avot), “Who is wise? One who learns from every person.” It is a prerequisite for connecting fully with Torah and all of Jewish life to first, appreciate the contributions of others.
Faith can be fragile, and faith can be firm. Each morning, we recite a series of blessings. The first and foremost utterance is, “Blessed are You, HaShem, our G-d, King of the universe, Who gave the heart understanding to distinguish between day and night.” This opening section of prayer provides my heart, especially when troubled, clarity, light, and the wisdom to know that I am not—and am never—alone.
New York native Andrea Simantov has lived in Jerusalem since 1995. She writes for several publications, appears regularly on Israel National Radio and owns an image consulting firm for women.