Then We Begin Again
We have just spent seven days living in the sukkah, which is a temporary, fragile dwelling. We will read Kohelet, written by King Solomon, who reminds us of the fragility and impermanence of life. And then, on Simchat Torah, we dance with the Torah.
We are celebrating the end of our Torah readings. But for Jews the end is never the end.
We live in two different kinds of time. There is linear time: wherein we begin, we move forward, and eventually we reach the end. And then there is circular time.
Jewish time is circular. Every year, we return to the same holidays, the same seasons, the same Torah portions. We return to Pesach, to Shavuot, to Rosh Hashanah, to Yom Kippur, to Sukkot and then to Simchat Torah.
But when we return, we are not the same people we were the year before. We bring everything we have experienced and learned with us to this new and yet familiar time. We bring our wisdom, our losses, our understanding, our relationships and our growth.
We return to the same holidays with the same infusion of spiritual energy, but every year we arrive as different people.
And we continue the journey of living and growing and doing.
This is especially powerful when we consider Moshe Rabbeinu.
At the end of V’Zos HaBracha, this week’s Torah portion, Moshe dies.
The Midrash describes Moshe desperately wanting to remain alive. He pleads with G-d. He beseeched G-d to let him enter the Land of Israel. But G-d tells him that this is not his destiny.
Moshe must die like all people.
And yet, we know that death is not the end.
Moshe’s soul continues to exist in the spiritual realms. The Torah he transmitted continues. His blessings continue. And, according to our tradition, there is a future in which Moshe will once again be part of the world. He has to die for G-d to be able to revive him in the future. Moshe does not end with his death.
And neither does ours.
Judaism teaches us that our physical lives have an ending, but our souls continue to exist in a different form.
Perhaps that is why, immediately after reading about Moshe's death, we begin the Torah readings again.
We read the final words of V’Zos HaBracha, and then we turn the Torah back to the beginning:
Bereishit bara Elokim. In the beginning, G-d created.
The Torah readings end. And we begin again.
We celebrate by dancing in circles. We move around the Torah. Everyone is equal, equidistant from the Torah. No one is at the front or the back. We are all part of the circle.
When Joshua enters the Land of Israel, he is commanded to circle the walls of Jericho seven times. On the seventh circuit, the walls collapse.
on Simchas Torah we make seven hakafot (circuits around the Torah.)
There is something powerful about circling. We move around something again and again until the walls come down. The walls between us. The walls within us. The walls that keep us from one another and from G-d.
We are not celebrating because life is easy or because nothing ends.
Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) reminds us that life is fragile. The sukkah itself reminds us that our lives are temporary and vulnerable.
We celebrate because our lives matter. Our relationships matter. Our connection to G-d matters. The love we give matters. The Torah we learn and practice matters. The kindness we show one another matters. The good deeds and charity we give matters.
And even when something ends, what we have created continues to exist.
There is one more beautiful connection.
The Torah begins with an act of compassion: G-d clothes Adam and Chava after they discover their vulnerability. And the Torah ends with an act of compassion: G-d buries Moshe.
The Torah begins with kindness. The Torah ends with kindness.
And perhaps this is what Torah is ultimately teaching us: how to live lives of kindness and connection.
So, on Simchat Torah, we don't mourn the end of the Torah. We dance with joy in the accomplishment and in the new beginning. We revel in our connection to Torah, to G-d and to each other.
An ending contains a beginning. We return and begin again. And we know that what we give and create and the good we do, continues long after we die.
Perhaps this is the deepest simcha of all. The joy of knowing that the end is not the end.
We are part of a circle. A circle of Torah. A circle of generations. A circle of Jewish time. A circle of life. And ultimately, a circle that brings us closer to G-d.
May we enter this new cycle with joy, carrying everything that has brought us to this moment. May we merit to dance with open hearts, ready to begin again.
Shabbat shalom and Chag Sameach,
With love
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