Exodus Cycle Six Bo

It’s the New Year. It’s also a New Year (in this week's parshah) as commanded by God in Torah. They are coinciding now as I write this. I think what we need to consider this week therefore is the nature of miracles. 

What does a miracle have to do with a new year? I could emphasize the miracle of life here, the miracle of our continuation, the miracle of every rock and tree we see, the miracle of breath, of time, of our ability to witness the passing of it. And that’s all a beautiful way to look at things.

This was the beautiful focus at the opening of a labyrinth in my home town. 

But let’s back up a bit. I hadn’t been to this New Year's  Labyrinth in a decade and my daughter wanted to do something calm.  We did have that vivid moment in the car before we went in. I almost put the car in drive. After a quick exchange of glances though, we decided to be brave.We went in.

A labyrinth feels (to me) like a New Age equivalent to the wilderness of Torah. I believe it has Celtic influences. This is the key though: You get through it. It’s literally a maze on a large floor that you walk on and you get to the center and then you follow the path out.   All in fifteen minutes. Or ten. It matters how fast you walk.

At this labyrinth it seemed we arrived just in time for the opening ceremony. 

 My eighteen year old daughter has a healthy edge when it comes to New Age ritual. She’s a perfect example of a child brought up in a town full of self-acclaimed hippies. In any case, once we were seated and the ceremony had begun I suddenly felt her body shake next to me. Yes, she was attacked with hysterical (hushed) fits of laughter while women dressed in huge silver angel costumes were blessing the vegetables, the four directions  and the earth.

Laughter is contagious. Need I say more. I thought of everything to stay in balance, my husband’s death, my students, Yom Kippur, Passover, lice, locusts, darkness,  the slaying of the first born, my age, the age of my car, the age of my appliances, the curses we all face in materialist societies, the sharp cut of animal teeth, men, money, money, money. I thought of all of this so I could avoid the pit of laughter and see what was really happening.

Something about that service  though...as beautiful as it was and as necessary as it was for the people there…something about it felt too miracle-focused to be miracle.

Miracles in fact necessitate boundaries.  In the long run miracles…happenings that prove the existence of God… are for those who seek faith, not those who have it. For after all (as discussed by Heschel) if we have faith we don’t need great signs and miracles to believe. Miracles are for the ones who live in fear, in doubt, for those who get mind-numb on medical marijuana because the illness of society is too huge to handle. They are for those who stay home all day to play games online or to watch HBO series online all to avoid the illness of a society that is so very hushed and horribly contagious. Oh yes, miracles are also for those who hightail it out of the community to other countries and for those who take part in secret gatherings of drugs that (I have seen) drive brilliant people insane. A miracle is something many of us strive for, starve  for,  beg for or pray madly for.

That’s because we’re on the cutting edge of belief. We believe and at the same time we don’t. The miracle(we hope) fills in the painful emptiness between the solid facts with proof of something  more... beauty, light, God, an eternal God, a merciful God, a God beyond God, a YAHWEH, olam habah. These are clear realities.  It's all right to need proof. But how much more powerful if we don't need proof all the time...just sometimes. 

In Torah, in this week’s parashah, the one miracle (in my mind) is the mitzvah of the new year. It happens in line 12:2. There, it fills in the emptiness between the most painful reality possible; the slaying of the first born.  God announces the slaying of the first born. Then He orders the first of the year to be that month. Then He enacts the slaying. Huge pain allows us a newness that's hard to believe because of the very pain itself. At the same time, it's as if the newness rises from the pain. The pain creates the proof.

The real miracle therefore is our Renewal,  the fact that God is with us at each new step, even when we venture out of the past. It’s the new day, the new year, the cut or slice in time between faith and absolute knowledge. This is the only miracle. The other actions are simply magic acts created by a desperate God and a desperate scribe of God to prove His divinity to a fear-blind, doubt-blind or drug-blinded people.

And what about this almost-laughing at the labyrinth? Pain plus distance equals humor.  When the pain is ignored the miracle becomes distant and no matter how much we try to suppress it, we laugh. We laugh with joy, we laugh with hardship. We laugh not because we think we know more but because it's the only thing to do given the huge dichotomy before us. We laugh to step forward, because it's the only path available to us given the equation. We laugh because we are creating for ourselves the necessary boundaries. With compassion we laugh with blessing. 

May you know that God is with you always as you step forward out of your fear and doubt…. and may you live in the miracle of newness all year.