Rabbi Nathan's blog

As many of you know we have a tradition in the month of Elul as we prepare for the High Holidays to recite Psalm 27. Oftentimes we will sing the Ahat Sha’alti song as a way to connect to this practice, but I wanted to share an excerpt of this psalm as translated by my colleague Rabbi Yael Levy. In her translation of the beginning verses of the psalm (1‐4) Rabbi Levy writes:

To the Beloved,
The Infinite Presence is my light and expanse, who should I fear?
The Infinite Presence is the strength of my life, what shall I dread?
When forces come close
Seeming to devour me,
When narrowness threatens,
And opposition attacks,
All that is menacing stumbles and falls.
Even as an army of mistrust besieges me
My heart does not fear.
Even as thoughts and desires rise up against me
I still have trust.
One thing I ask of the Infinite,
One thing I seek,
To dwell in the Presence all the days of my life.

This year, as we feel the threats of narrowness and opposition and mistrust in our country the words of the psalm feel even more powerful. The psalmists turn to the Infinite Presence as a source of light and strength feels helpful and needed.

In moments of societal stress it can be hard to imagine that the Divine is with us. As a practitioner myself of spiritual direction I find that I may spend weeks and months feeling God’s absence or distance. I get angry at God for the suffering I see in the world. I become sullen with God wanting to know why I was left alone earlier in my life when I needed support navigating challenging times. And then, sometimes, almost miraculously in a spiritual direction session, I will remember and feel God’s presence. I will remember that God is sad with me when life is overwhelming. I remember that I can call out to God and trust that there is a connection through the mystery.

I realize that the kind of theology I am sharing may not resonate with everyone, and that is fine. But we are invited at this time of the year to creatively imagine that ‐ like the psalmist ‐ we too can ask to feel God’s presence.

The month of Elul ‐ which can be read as an acronym of ani le‐dodi ve‐dodi li/I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine ‐ is a time where we seek to quiet our minds and perhaps allow us to experience the mystery of a connection that we can’t explain but that we can feel is significant and sacred.

As one who struggles to maintain a consistent Jewish practice, I seek to remind myself in Elul that pointing myself towards a regular practice in this month ‐ even if I repeatedly come up short of my aspirations ‐ is not something I have to feel bad about. I can imagine that in this month I am held in God’s loving embrace, with a love that is expansive enough to allow me to miss the mark and try again.

While some may argue that a turn to practice in this time is solipsistic and indulgent, I would argue the opposite. Aligning ourselves with a sense of the mystery of the universe, with a sense of appreciating our interconnectedness and our goodness can perhaps give us the strength we need to face the turmoil with less fear.

● If you choose to develop an Elul practice for yourself, I invite you to sit with the following questions:
● What helps you to feel more balanced and centered?
● What are the practices that are most heart opening?
● How can you welcome all parts of yourself ‐ even the parts that seem most self critical ‐ and shine upon them the divine gaze of love?
● What practice helps you to overcome cynicism and disaffection?
● Is there anyone who might be willing to join you in taking on an Elul practice ‐ whether this is journaling, meditation, walking, praying, chanting, or something else?

The work of Elul and practice is not about “getting it right.” The work of Elul is opening up to the possibility that we can experience our true goodness and glimpse our strong and loving connection to the other.

May each of our Elul preparations be fruitful and may we give ourselves more time and space to deepen into the practices that connect us to ourselves, each other, and the Divine.