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What Do We Want?

What do we want? What do we really want? What do we seek?

We are in the Hebrew month of Elul, the month before Rosh Hashanah, and we read Psalm 27 every morning and evening. Here are words I shared with members of our Rabbinical Assembly at a virtual siyyum (conclusion of study) and hakdama (beginning of study).

Everyone always asks us for more. Everyone wants more. But what is the ONE thing we all seek and truly need? We don’t know the exact historical context for Psalm 27, but commentators suggest that King David is reaching out to God in a time of crisis, expressing both trepidation and hope. It’s as if he’s speaking from our own souls. After establishing that Adonai ori v’yishi ‐ God is my light and my Salvation, David shares his most heartfelt wish:

אַחַ֤ת ׀ שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהוָה֮

One thing have I asked of God,

אוֹתָ֪הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ

This is what I seek:

שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הוָה כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י 

That I may dwell in the house of God all the days of my life,

לַחֲז֥וֹת בְּנֹֽעַם־יְ֝הוָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵיכָלֽוֹ׃

To behold the graciousness of God, and to frequent God's temple. 

It’s hard to read these words, knowing we won’t hear a variety of tunes this year, sung out loud as children throw kippot into the air. Even more challenging knowing that achat sha’alti, the one thing I have asked of God, and the one thing I seek, is to dwell in God’s house. Halevai, if only that could be what we are doing this year, spending time, more time, in our synagogues and Hillels and day schools, dwelling in God’s sacred home.

This year, the one thing we truly want is to be together. We want to dwell, share, pray and sing. We want to be with each other. Instead, we are yoshvim babayit, dwelling at home, away from holy spaces, and away from each other.

I’d like to suggest a different way to read this verse:

אַחַ֤ת ׀ שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהוָה֮

One thing have I asked of God,

שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הוָה כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י 

That I may dwell in the house of God all the days of my life,

BUT IN THE ABSENCE OF THAT:

אוֹתָ֪הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ

This is what I seek:

לַחֲז֥וֹת בְּנֹֽעַם־יְ֝הוָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵיכָלֽוֹ׃

To behold the graciousness of God, and to frequent God's temple. 

Looking specifically at the last 5 words of our verse: what does it mean lachazot b’noam Adonai? And how else might we lvaker b’heichalo?

Lachazot b’noam Adonai - to gaze upon God’s beauty. How might we reframe this year so that we can gaze upon God’s beauty despite all of the ugliness around us? We embrace each other while social distancing. We see each other through zoom or above masks and face shields. We look into another person’s eyes and together we reflect our resilience, our strength, and our faith.

And then, lvaker b’heichalo - to visit God’s palace. The word for “visit”– l’vaker – can also mean to criticize. And we certainly might like to offer God a few well‐placed words of criticism. But when we criticize we must try to critique l’shem shamayim. In that way we engage, we are in a relationship, and we are open to the struggle. That too is what gives us hope. 

May we behold the graciousness, the beauty, the depth of God and all of God’s creations this year. And may we engage in God's palace, wherever and with whomever and in whatever way that may be.

I close with words from Rabbi Sheila Peltz Weinberg in her interpretation of this verse, praying that it may be our sentiment as well: I seek only one thing, one thing alone: to connect to this moment. Nowhere else. Only this…