Transitions

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Last night we attended our synagogue's annual Gala. It was our first...we are not really fancy party people...but, after last night, I can tell you, it will not be our last. Moreover, since I am now a board member, a page must be turned and I will have to do things I'm not necessarily comfortable with. This event is a fundraiser for the Temple and contributes mightily to our annual budget. Tickets are pricey and there is a large silent auction of donated gifts.

As we arrived, the wind was blowing very badly. The event was to be held outside under two large tents with the auction held inside. We have been having days of clear skies and triple digit temps so we anticipated being baked as we ate and danced and bid on gifts. Not so. Instead, the sky decided to develop massive clouds, thunder and lightening and, of all things, rain. Everyone in their finery were either windblown or rained on...so we hustled inside, moved the sanctuary chairs and brought in the tables from the tents! It was a close fit, but actually rather intimate.

After eating tons of delicious hors dourves, and great entrees, bidding, and great conversation, the rains let up (as did the lightening), so the band set up and we all went outside to dance under the stars. Judy and I went home around nine...I can't stay up much past that...and so we didn't see if we were successful on our bids. We'll see.

Anyway, I was thinking about turning pages. How difficult it is to move on from a past place to a new, uncharted place. One of the more challenging points in life to transition is from one role to another, such as in retirement or in a change of professions. I have gone from being a religious leader in my own right to a participant with no real expertise. To move from leader to member can be a challenge as we are used to being looked to, used to taking charge, and used to having answers. As a plain congregant, the situation is much different. I go to Temple and am often lost in the Hebrew, the liturgy, as it moved from one point to another. When to stand, when to sit, when to bow, when to rise up on our heels...a myriad of subtle and sometimes not so subtle liturgical events.

In Zen Centers the word is hushed silence, a turning inward, and long periods of sitting zazen. There I am "Roshi," a Zen Master. In synagogue, I am just Harvey, and the word is loud, with song, and in what amounts to a very strange and foreign language. I go from silence to making joyful noises to the Lord; I go from knowing myself as no self to knowing nothing and learning each day. I go from standing in front to sitting as close to the back as possible.

But here's the thing: the page is turned.

I must learn how to be a simple congregant. I must learn how to approach the daily life of a Jew as a simple Jew. Now, the good news is that this is exactly what Zen teaches us. To approach our lives in the most plain and simple and direct way possible. As I have been, and continue to be, a willing student of Zen; so to I will now be a willing student of Judaism and congregational membership.
As I open my zendo to others when our new home is completed, I will be a better Zen teacher as I will truly have nothing to teach.

Be well.