Forgiveness and Growth

By Gabriella Spitzer
Barnard College

I had a fight with an old friend of mine a few days before the seventeenth of Tamuz, the fast day on the Jewish calendar when we remember the breaching of the walls of Jerusalem. That day ended the siege and allowed the Temple to be destroyed three weeks later on the ninth of Av. She told me that she is becoming more right wing in her religious practice (she's also Jewish), and I asked her how she responds to the particular way I want to lead my life Jewishly. I pushed her and pushed her until all she could say was that she thinks that fundamental parts of who I am and how I do Judaism are wrong.

The Rabbis teach that divisions in the Jewish community contributed to the destruction of the Temple—that Jews burned other Jews' grain so that they would be motivated to fight, when really, people starved instead. I could not help but think that the response that I had to the statement, "I want to be haredi" (right wing Jewish practice) was the kind of intolerance the Rabbis warned us would lead to the Jewish community's destruction. I thought about my reaction for the three weeks between the seventeenth of Tamuz and the ninth of Av. The Shabbat after the ninth of Av is called "Shabbat Nachamu," or Shabbat of Comfort. We read from Isaiah 40, where God tells the Jewish people that there has been enough suffering and, in essence, it is time to breathe. I calmed down too, and forgave myself.

While I observe Shabbat and holidays, I do not always connect with them—they can feel more like an interruption from the rest of my life than like my life itself. But this year, for the first time, I found the summer cycle of sadness around the destruction of the Temple deeply meaningful. The experience has led me to an awareness of the ways in which I can use the Jewish calendar for my personal growth.

Jews structure time. Our days start at night, and are punctuated by three prayer services: night, morning, and afternoon. Our weeks culminate with 25 hours of meaningful rest. Our years have—if we take advantage of it—an emotional/spiritual rhythm. Hanukkah teaches us about the light within the darkest time of year. Tu b'Shvat, the new year for the trees, reminds us that spring is coming and challenges us to think about our connection to the land and our own personal growth. When Adar comes, it is time to be merry. Nissan is all about rebirth and the real beginning of spring. After Pesah, we count days in a solemn period as we get ready to accept the Torah on Shavuot. In the summer, we commemorate the loss of the Temple and the Jewish discord at the time, culminating with God forgiving us. With that model of forgiveness, we move into the month of Elul, when we engage in heshbon hanefesh, or reevaluating ourselves, our dreams, and our goals.

Now, between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I hope that we can all use this time to refocus ourselves and make strong commitments for the coming year. And I hope that we can continue to make Jewish time our time, that the rhythms of the Jewish calendar become our rhythms, and that we grow Jewishly throughout the year.

Shanah tovah u'metukah!

Gabriella Spitzer is entering her sophomore year at Barnard College. She enjoys cooking, eating, farming, walking around barefoot, public transportation and counting her innumerable blessings. 

[Posted 9/8/10]