ב"ה
The Utter Audacity of Jewish Hope
True hope is swift, and flies with
swallow’s wings;
Kings it makes gods, and meaner
creatures kings.
--William
Shakespeare
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm-
--Emily Dickinson
Those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
-- Isaiah 40:31
As a child growing up in New York, the
month of December was always a time that I would feel within a tinge of
collective jealousy. Seeing the dazzling, colorful array of lights and
decorations that many houses displayed so prominently in honor of Christmas
often left me crestfallen and convinced that the Jewish people were gypped
because the Channukah candles seemed just so…wimpy. Even those that would get
more creative and hang up a multi-colored “Happy Hannukah!” sign, trying to
liven things up a bit, or the truly adventurous families that would really go
all out and actually hang up a machete dreidel with a smiley face…didn’t quite
match the excitement and aesthetic allure that shined from the surrounding houses’
walls and rooftops covered with lights, sleighs, and other fascinating
decorations.
My consternation was further compounded
when I got a little older and learned that Channukah is not only climatically a
winter holiday. The military victory and subsequent miracle of the oil were
actually the last national triumphs that the Jewish people enjoyed as a nation
before the beginning of the long, winter night of the exile that we are still
presently enduring. It was almost as if God gave us one last going-away present
at the time of the Second Temple before its destruction and the ensuing
Diaspora. Knowing that we would have miles and miles of suffering to go before
we could finally sleep again as a totally sovereign nation, He gave us the
Channukah candles to illuminate Jewish homes wherever they might be on the
globe, and they were to shine even during the times of all the horrors we
suffered over the centuries. They were to warm us, and lead the way. (This is
the reason why many have the custom to sing the Ma’oz Tzur song, which
recounts all the exiles and the future Messianic redemption, by the lit candles.
It is as if we are proclaiming that just as the Jews were granted this previous
redemption of Channukah, we believe that we will soon reach the final, utopian
Messianic redemption.)
Why then just a few measly candles? If
this holiday’s commemoration was to insure our survival in exile, why did He not
leave us with a real bang, a really exciting, eye-opening, show-stopping, loud,
lively and sparkling display of lights and colors and heat?
He did.
But we need to stare deeply at the resounding
elegance of the candles to see it and hear their message. All the power and
vigor needed to surmount any challenge is conveyed and displayed in the deceptively
small flames of the Channukah candles. They might not be apparent immediately;
one needs to listen to what the candles are whispering. For their message is
too profound to be accessible without effort.
---------------------------------
President Obama titled his book about
reclaiming the American dream, “The Audacity of Hope” based on a sermon he had
heard from Reverend Jeremiah Wright. The beautiful idea that Wright delivered in
that sermon was actually a comment on a painting by the great Victorian artist George
Frederic Watts called “Hope”. The
"With
her clothes in rags, her body scarred and bruised and bleeding, her harp all but
destroyed and with only one string left, she had the audacity to make music...
To take the one string you have left and to have the audacity to hope… that's
the real word God will have us hear… from Watt's painting,"
said
Wright. The painting is indeed quite austere, and the melancholy state of the
figure so dire, that G.K. Chesterton cynically scoffed that a more accurate
name for the painting would have been Despair. Watts defended his work,
however, and explained that,
"Hope
need not mean expectancy. It suggests here rather the music which can come from
the remaining chord".
What
an extraordinarily powerful message! Hope need not mean expectancy. To hope is
simply to grab tightly that last string and play on. No matter what. Keep
making the music even though one is certain that the future shall not yield any
real positivity. It is the music itself, the hope for better, that is the end itself,
and not just the means to reach a rosier reality. That is the audacity of hope.
Living with a vision of a better tomorrow, utterly inspired by that vision, letting
its melody carry you, while knowing full well that the pictured tomorrow shall probably
never arrive.
As the Italian poet Giuseppe Ungaretti
explained his inspiration from Virgil’s timeless hero,
“Aeneas is
beauty, youth, ingenuousness ever in search of a promised Land, where, in
the contemplated, fleeting beauty, his own beauty smiles and
enchants...”
As
Moses viewed with bliss the Promised Land from the distant peak of Mount Nebo,
it is the contemplation alone of visions of hope that elicits radiant beauty
and enchantment from within. They are not at all dependent on actually crossing
the Jordan. Because
“It
is the place where one’s will and thoughts are directed that is the true
location of a person”.
--Ba’al Shem Tov
That
is the hauntingly inspiring and surprisingly audacious music of hope. It is
beautiful music; it is transforming music. Hope allows one found in the most
despondent situation to be lifted up, to transcend the bitter reality within
which one might be trapped, to see new vistas of a Promised Land, shimmering
with an expansive aura of goodness, serenity, and peace, totally independent of
actual empirical circumstances.
I
think that is why the great singers of the human condition, Isaiah,
Shakespeare, and Dickinson all compared hope to a bird. A “mean creature”
caught in a “sore storm” that Chesterton would have termed desolate despair can
soar and fly out with the swift, mighty wings of hope that “never grow weary… not
be faint.” Hold dear that last string of hope! Pluck at it with your whole
being and allow that music to reshape your internal landscape, though you know
that the external one might never get better… "Hope need not mean
expectancy. It suggests…rather the music which can come from the remaining
chord". Because it’s the music, the hope itself, regardless of any actual
outcome, that will make present reality smile and enchant.
----------------------------------------------
But
let us go deeper. Come, let’s get the sweet music of the lone string to
resonate louder…
At
the same time that Watts was painting, there lived in Russia an intensely
passionate, mystical rabbi, Rabbi Shalom DovBer Schneerson of Lubavitch. He was
not content with this understanding of hope. He declared hope to be much more
daring.
For
since the beginning of the world men have not… perceived by the ear, neither hath
the eye seen… what He hath prepared for him that waiteth for Him.
--Isaiah 64:3
“The meaning of “him that waiteth
for Him” is one who has hope. Hope is necessary only for something that one
does not know if it will be. For something expected, hope is not needed... Our
souls await God; we therefore hope for something that might be radically
distant, something that can never be rationally conceived to occur, something
that we cannot even fathom how it can ever happen and indeed seems impossible
that it will. Yet hope is the ardent belief that it shall, indeed, come to
pass.”
To
hope is not just to picture with no expectancy a permanently elusive state.
Judaism exhorts us to hope, but not a hope that is only a wistful dream, a
fantasy that might serve to raise one out of despondency though quite possibly
lacking any eventual fruition. We hope...with expectancy. To hope is really to
await. Because our hopes grow out of a trust in God. We hope with expectancy
because we do wait for Him, and therefore know to expect a better future.
Sore
must be the storm -
That
could abash the little Bird
That
kept so many warm-
Do
you understand that this is why no storm has ever silenced the bird of Jewish
hope? Throughout the centuries, the song of Jewish hope was sung during
pogroms, crusades, and even in concentration camps.
Because we do expect. And wait. And trust. And
therefore never, ever stop hoping. That things will actually change and get
better.
Nothing
the Jews faced caused us to stop plucking at the one string left on the
harp.
And
the little, forlorn bottle of oil that the Maccabees found... was that one
remaining string of the harp. It proved that hope should truly be expectancy.
The priests in the Temple lit the menorah with it, they had the utter audacity
of Jewish hope and dared to play a melody with the small, solitary string...and
it indeed burned for eight days. And the candles are still today whispering
that secret, telling us to hope for and expect the impossible.
-----------------------------------------------
But
their message is not only the inspiration to continue “to take the one string
you have left and to have the audacity to hope.” The Channukah candles are also
explaining to us how we can do it- how in the face of any sorrow or adversity,
we can so persistently “never stop - at all-” living with the trust and hope
for the concrete actualization of better times.
"The
candle of G-d is the soul of man”
(Proverbs) means that souls…are, by way of illustration, like the flame of the
candle, whose nature it is always to scintillate upwards… In like manner does
the soul of man…naturally desire and yearn to separate
itself and depart from the body in order to unite with its origin and source in
God, the fountain-head of all life.”
–Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, Tanya
There
are many scientific opinions about the nature of hope. From where in the soul
does it come? Which aspect of the psyche allows a vulnerable, tender victim of
fate to refuse to surrender to the challenges it's facing and continuously retain
the yearning for a better life? Some claim hope to be an emotion, others
consider it a state of mind. In truth, neither
is correct. The mighty pinions of ascending hope are manifestations of the
inherent essence of the soul, the candle of God, His lover with an unquenchable
passion for Him, ever striving to fuse with Him. As a flame perpetually rises,
refusing to yield to any force that tries to bind it, the soul is constantly
trying to soar up to its Beloved, the source of all positivity and goodness,
the Infinite Light of God. Expectant hope results from the soul’s essential,
innate striving towards God taking the specific form of a confident lens
through which to evaluate and perceive reality.
The
road is long; there are mountains in our way
But
we climb a step every day
Love
lift us up where we belong
Where
the eagles cry on a mountain high
Love
lift us up where we belong
Far
from the world we know, up where the clear winds blow.
–Joe Cocker &
Jennifer Warnes
The
graceful persistence of the Channukah flames are demonstrating and reminding us
that the soul’s constant love and yearning for God can indeed lift us up from
the harrowing, vanquishing, hurtful world we know to the place of winds of
clarity and serenity, the place where the soul belongs, His embrace. Hope is
the soul’s wings.
We
need to recognize the source of the positivity we often are blessed to feel
within, to fathom what it really is. It is not naïveté. It's your soul striving
to unite with God, trusting that it will, and hence having the utter audacity
to unshakably hope for a better future…
And especially our expectancy for the greatest bird of
history. As all Jews of Hungarian descent know, Rebbe Isaac Taub of Kalov’s
song about the Messiah, “Sol a kokosh mar”, gave all of our ancestors much hope
for a brighter future. And now we understand its meaning…
The sun is rising now... Near a green forest, is
a wide field, where a bird walks around.
What sort of bird is this?
What sort of bird is this?
With yellow feet, and a
pearl-white beak, he is waiting to
go home. With yellow feet, and blue-green wings, he is waiting to go home.
Wait, birdy, wait! Wait, birdy, wait!
Until God decides it is the right time, then you will go home.
But when will it be? But when will it be?
When "The Temple is rebuilt and then the city of Zion will be filled" - that is when it will be.
Wait, birdy, wait! Wait, birdy, wait!
Until God decides it is the right time, then you will go home.
But when will it be? But when will it be?
When "The Temple is rebuilt and then the city of Zion will be filled" - that is when it will be.
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