November 8, 2024
Dear Friends,
On Monday night, the night before the election, I was watching Rachel Maddow, who offered advice for those in her audience who may be anxious about the election. “Please hydrate.”
Given by a nutritionist, such advice makes good sense under any circumstances. Given by a political commentator, however, it struck me as ominous.
For many in our community, the ominous quality of the advice came true. We have a range of opinions about the election among us in the congregation. For those who are happy about the outcome, we can pray together for our country and for our newly elected leaders to be guided by wisdom, honesty and integrity. For those who are devastated by the outcome, we can be compassionate with each other and the many in our community who are grieving and fearful for the future. For them, the verse in this Shabbat’s Torah portion is fitting: “When the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Avram, and, lo a dread, even a great darkness, fell upon him.”
Whatever your feelings about the election, however, we can have compassion and respect toward each other. We can live out an alternative to the divisiveness, incivility and polarization in our national politics. We can be a community that models kindness, curiosity and humility, which will help our country and each other whatever our political commitments.
There will be ample time for analysis of the election, as well as for an awakening to a renewed commitment to a vision for our country. In the meantime, however, I want to highlight some wisdom from our Torah portion this Shabbat.
In the Torah portion, Lech Lecha, Sara’s maidservant Hagar has just run away from mistreatment and finds herself alone in the wilderness where she hears the voice of an angel by a spring of water. “Hagar,” the angel asks her, “where have you come from, and where are you going?”
I am struck by this divine question. Much of the time, we expect the divine or divine messengers to provide us with answers. And yet, in the book of Genesis, the most powerful words of God are actually questions. In the third chapter of Genesis, after Adam and Eve’s hubris brought them to reject everything they had in exchange for the one thing they didn’t, God calls out to them with a question: “Where are you?” In other words, reflect on what you are seeking.
Similarly, after Cain, in a fit of anger and jealousy kills Abel, God asks another question. “Where is your brother?”
All these questions are as pressing today as they were at the beginning of the human story. “What brought us here and where is it we want to go?” “Where are we now?” “Where are our siblings? Are we seeing them, their suffering and their dreams?”
Today, we may relate to Hagar and find ourselves in the wilderness as well. Hagar represents each of us along with the most vulnerable among us. And significantly, while the wilderness that Hagar finds herself in is ominous, she also finds herself by a spring, a source of renewed life. And it is by this spring, this well, that the angel sees her and graces her with divine attention in the form of a question.
And so I offer these questions to us, because sometimes it is the question that carries divine love. I pray we can bring these questions with us into Shabbat and beyond. And while I have no answers, I do want to suggest in the midst of all this uncertainty and, for some, heart break, some advice. May we kind. May we be grateful. May we be committed to our vision for the long haul. And yes, of course, hydrate.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Caryn Broitman