Today, November 28th, 2013, is surrounded in a conundrum of events. A day of thanksgiving and feasting, the second miraculous day of Hanukkah, and soon, the beginning of Advent season.
While everyone is chiming in via social media about their gratitudes, I can't help but picture the events that brought in each tradition...
...A group of people take a brave and sacred pilgrimage across treacherous seas to find a new home, one that promises freedom from religious and political oppressors. Yet, they are met by sea-bound illnesses, plagues, harsh winters. What should have been a time of rejoicing was shrouded in death and loss.
...A silent, ominous time of waiting for another group of persecuted persons...waiting for a promise their G-d had given them, that the lowly and meek would be first and their oppressors shall be last. Waiting for a royal King who would come bringing this peace they longed for. And they
had been waiting
for.
so.
long.
...Yet another group of harassed peoples who watched as their family, who had become a great nation, was desolated. Their sacred sanctuary that was the center of their economy, their spirituality, their government, their every thread
of
being
...decimated.
"As [Jersulam's] glory had been, so great was her dishonor: her exaltation was turned into mourning."
Ah, but there was that vile of oil that lasted far longer than it should have. And the meek baby that was born and demonstrated the peace, love and joy they (we) all had craved. And the Indians who taught their uninvited guests how to grow crops, to live in their land, and to share the table with people who weren't quite like the others.
And so, the wonderful cacophony of this season begins, a chorus of mourning, thanksgiving, and waiting.
May you find yourself captured by the paradoxes that surround us. May you tune your ear to the horrendously beautiful chords that sing of our past and our present.
