Over the summer here at Congregation Shaara Tfille, we are replacing floors and carpeting for much of our building, including the offices. Of course, floors have furniture on them, and furniture is filled with things like books, so all of that needs to be packed up and moved out, so the furniture can be moved, so the floor can be accessed. In fact, as I write, I’m down to one bookshelf left to pack – though it is the largest!
Our new floors come as a very generous gift, will be part of our shul for many years to come, and will certainly be worth the effort when all is said and done – but for the shul staff, and the volunteers who have graciously helped pack spaces like our library, the process of clearing the way for the work demands a good deal of time, schlep, and schvitz, plus another round of the same to restore order after the work is done. It’s like having all the “fun” and “relaxation” of a big move, without actually going anywhere. I’m sure some of you have had this kind of experience, if you’ve ever done significant repairs or renovations while living in your home.
This odd “moving but not moving” experience brings with it a parallel set of contrasting thoughts. On the one hand, going through the motions of a move (something I have much experience of as a military brat and veteran) naturally triggers some thoughts associated with moving and displacement: What could use a shakeup? What needs a fresh start? What should be left behind?
On the other hand, we don’t usually think deeply about not going anywhere, but this unusual circumstance makes me very conscious that our “move” ends back where we started. I took pictures so I can get my books back in the same order on the shelves! How often do we think about this: What is just right where it is? What is giving us comfort and security by being right where we expect it when we need it? What is it about what we have and where we are now that should be as exciting as a new place or new situation, if only we ever stopped to think about it?
Now, I am not writing this only under the influence of the endorphins that flow after a day of packing and schlepping boxes. It happens that these are also exactly the kind of questions we should be asking ourselves, and giving serious consideration to, in the period leading up to the High Holy Days, and particularly during the month of Elul (which loosely overlays August this year). By sincerely confronting the question of what needs to change in our lives – but also of what is just right how it is! – we can enter the holiday framework prepared to do t’shuvah and make amends and changes where we have made mistakes, but also to stand our ground where we need to in the year ahead. We can greet Yom Kippur ready to face our failings with accountability, but also giving ourselves the credit we deserve and need for our successes as moral agents in the world God created.
It’s sweaty work along the way, but good luck moving what needs to be moved in your soul this summer, and I’ll see you back where we started, back in shul in the year to come.