We're less than a week away from beginning the month of Tishrei. From Rosh Hashana, a commemoration of the sixth day of creation, referred to as "the birthday of the world." Some people take this literally, regarding the world as if it is re-created brand-new every year. But regardless, we don't usually spend a whole month getting ready for a birthday. What's up with the month of Elul?
The name itself gives us some ideas. The word "Elul" is related to the Akkadian word for "harvest." In addition, it's said to be an acronym for the phrase "ani l'dodi v'dodi li" (Song of Songs 6:3)-"I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine . . ."
To me, these explanations sum up the work of preparation we undertake in Elul. I think I've really misunderstood this work in the past. "Should I make a list and check it twice? Have I been naughty or nice, and what presents and punishments can I expect as a result? How do I change the evil decree, force my edges into a more ideal version of me? What can I control into being better?"
But our central phrase doesn't mention any of that. It talks only about love. I belong to what I love. What I love belongs to me. The verse goes on to specify "haroeh bashoshanim," "who watches among the lilies." The image isn't even me and my beloved hashing out a disagreement or paying the bills. We're lounging around outside, enjoying the flowers.
I think that's the challenge. It can be overwhelming, sometimes, to do the "work" work of going to a job, doing what we can to manage our health, raising children, tackling one more household chore. We can start to think of belonging and ease as luxuries, something we really want but just can't afford right now. This explanation comes to tell us no. We need to accept our responsibilities. And in order to do so, we need things like community, caring, and help. We exist not to generate optimized labor, but to be in relationship, to give and receive love.
This extends even to the work of spiritual growth. I have sometimes thought of myself as a machine to tinker with. Adjust the settings the right way for best performance. I have tried to put forward some kind of idealized image in line with who I think I should be, and it has failed every time. What has worked? Showing up honestly; trying to be of service; entrusting myself to people who can see me more clearly than I can. I can't learn god alone, moodily spinning my dials in isolation. I need relationships, need the reciprocity of support that this verse outlines.
So the questions start to sound a little different. Who do I belong to? How do I show it? Who belongs to me? What connections give my life meaning and joy? And deeper: what if I am surrounded at all times by a love I cannot even begin to understand? What if everyone else is too? What if I can retain more of that awareness, more of the time?
Which is where the plain meaning, and the action, comes in. This is our time of harvest, of gathering in the good. When I see my family and friends and community and world, I see who I am. What have I planted? What's growing? What am I ready to stop sowing? What do I want to try instead?
So my hope for all of us, in these last few days before the world starts all over again, is that we will experience love, belonging, and awareness.