I try to make certain I am positioned properly in my computer screen when sitting and standing, a real trick when waving a lulav and etrog. I regularly check the drivers and updates, audio and video settings, and adjust the light overhead and across the room. I think thoughtfully about how to utilize the chat button and am mindful to remind people mute is about the device and not the person. I can share texts, music and video on screen and encourage robust singing and dancing from home. I have embraced the overt implications of my new title. While I am sometimes wistful (and look forward to the day when zoom is an incidental means of communication and not our primary gathering platform) I am finding humor and even joy in the direction my rabbinic path (and those of my clergy colleagues) has taken. For that, I am grateful.
As we enter into our 31st week in corona times, I'm drawn to Rav Nachman of Bratslav's teaching about joy (Lekutei MaHaRan, 23). He paints a picture of those who are happy and dancing, grabbing on to someone experiencing sadness who stands outside the circle. By bringing that person into the circle of dancers, they cause that individual to celebrate and rejoice with them. He goes on to say that when someone is happy, sadness is pushed to the side. Yet, the higher way is to run after sadness, introduce it to joy and transform it into happiness and joy. R. Nachman suggests that our sadness and pain may be the part of ourselves that prevents us from living into our own kedushah/holiness. His message is about integrating strength, courage, optimism and hope. Mixing our cups - half full and half empty. Our fullest selves contain sorrow and potential for tremendous joy. Deep happiness is not the absence of sadness. It is the opening of our deepest souls and the willingness to embrace true potential for joy.
I have long reminded myself and others to be open to being surprised. Remaining open to the unexpected makes space for both breadth and breath especially within the world of boundaries and rules created to keep order, safety and define community. Zoom is my teacher and ally in this arena as we learn from this time of impermanence, cooperating and collaborating to create and continue to build a community that sees one another, celebrates and mourns together and plans for a joyous future, drawing others into the circle of Habonim.
In this zman simhateinu/time of our joy, let us dip any sadness that resides within into an overflowing cup of joy, taking hold of whatever new titles, monikers and identities you have cultivated as they guide you in this new year. While that zoom screen could just as easily have read ZOOM - WITH THE RABBI, I'll hold on to Rabbi Zoom for now and make the most of the moment. Such is the Torah for this time of year as we close the final book and return to the beginning, telling our story over again with new layers of learning, joy and love.
Shabbat Shalom and Hag Sameach!
rg - Rabbi Zoom
