To Till and to Tend

A few weeks ago I attended the National Havurah Retreat – quite a green gathering, up in New Hampshire.  Sustainability is worked into the week in many ways which I’ll describe next time.  But first, a summary of the workshop, My Big Fat Jewish Simchah Meets the Eco-Police, which I co-lead with Ketura Persellin.  We were able to see an advance copy of the DC based Jews United for Justice’s upcoming publication, Green and Just Celebrations, and it’s gonna be terrific!  We realized there was no need for us to swap practical ideas, so instead we explored some of the drivers for high-consumption celebrations.  No preaching, just working on understand.  If people have a handle on what their buttons are, it’s easier to deal.  Here are a few:

•  Simchahs bring 3-4 generations together, and often we are faced with meeting highest denominator expectations, as in “we’d like to make it vegetarian, but my parents’ friends just wouldn’t consider that nice enough” or “we’d like to get married at a summer camp, but there isn’t any place nice enough for the older folks to stay.”  Nothing raises anxiety and induces insecurity more than feeling like your celebration will be deemed skimpy.
• Simchahs are multi-cultural.  Especially with weddings, two sides are coming together. If you throw in a few step-parents, grandparents, and extended families, the odds are it’s a typical American mix of religions, ethnicities, class and regional differences.  Trying to please everyone sends the budget shooting up, and of course the more you spend, the more you’re consuming.
• Simchahs are professionalized these days, often dubbed the Simchah Industrial Complex.  Once couples sign onto a registry, hires bands, caterers, planners, photographers, et al, they basically lose control, unless they are passionately concerned with details and willing to fight for all the things they care about.  Ideals generally get the short shrift when dealing with realities of managing large events.
• Simchahs bring familes and friends together from literally the four corners of the earth.  Where I grew up, a sit-down dinner was lavish.  Now we’re not just talking sit-down dinner, but often 4 to 5 other events as well.  Hard to not feed people who have traveled to be with you!  And brides and grooms, being older, want to maximize the amount of quality time they spend with their friends. 

By the sweat of your brow shall you eat bread, till you return to the earth-that earth you were taken from; for dust you are, and to dust you shall return. – Genesis 3:19

In the last weeks, I witnessed the birth of my niece, Oren, and mourned the death of a dear friend, Rosanne.  The bookends of life frame the Big Questions.  At a first breath, I did not question; in the consideration of a last breath, questions linger.

Though I do not connect with a God who decides who lives and dies, I find intimacy with the Creator of Life and the ways of this Universe. Though I may never understand a premature death, I will forever marvel at the wonders of nature.  In this magical place we call Earth, the death and decomposition of once-living organisms provide nutrients so that the next generation can be born, grow and reproduce. Life begets life, but death begets life, too.  Along with the sorrow and excitement, there is deep beauty in the circle of life.

Usually, I take life’s daily inspiration and apply it to environmental realities and actions, but today I do the reverse. Though the physical cycle of life is wondrous and meaningful, it does not comfort in the face of deep loss. Rosanne brought to this world many descendants and her body will return to the Earth – In a sense, her role in the circle of life is now complete. But Rosanne, lived a life beyond the world of Genesis 3:19.  She loved, she taught, she cared, she listened.  She was a friend, confidante and “aunt.”   She used her life and love to nourish and fertilize everyone around her.  Those who know her, live richer and fuller lives, filled with non-scientific immeasurables that keep us healthy and strong.

In my feeble attempt to absorb the realities of life, I note the body’s wondrous ability to fertilize the ground in which it lays, but am comforted by the soul’s ability to nourish the ones it loves.