by Rabbi Lawrence Troster
On a recent vacation to my home town of Toronto, as I drove
around the countryside and saw the many places I knew so well from my childhood,
I reflected again on how the landscape in which I lived affected who I am and
how I see the world. I was born in Toronto
which is in an area that was covered by glaciers over 10,000 years ago and the
land still is shaped by that ancient event: spoon shaped hills called drumlins,
ridges called eskers which are the remains of the river beds that flowed from
the retreating ice. And lakes: I spent many of my summers at camp in Northern
Ontario beyond the glacial till where the major geological feature is the
Canadian Shield which has some of the oldest rock in the world: more than 3.96
billion years old and which covers some 5,000,000 square miles of Canada and
the U.S. In Ontario ,
the glaciers carved out more than 250,000 lakes from the Shield and many of my
summers were spent in the rock, water and forest of that landscape. In this
world, I had some of my deepest and most important spiritual experiences that
remain with me still.
When I moved to New
Jersey over 20 years ago I became part of a new
geological area: the Piedmont province formed of volcanic basalt over 200
million years ago. And now I live in Pennsylvania
where I am in a different kind of geological formation: rolling hills and
valleys of metamorphic rock formed during the Precambrian period some one
billion years ago.
What does all this mean for me? The food that I ate and
which formed me, was grown in the glacial soil of Southern Ontario is still, so
to speak, bred in my bones. How did this land also affect my mental perspective
on the world? I thought of these things as I saw the familiar ridge of the
Niagara Escarpment over which the mighty Niagara
Falls fell. For the first time in my life I took the
boat that brought me close to those falls. I felt the spray and saw the wonder
of those thundering waters.
In this month of Elul when we are supposed to take stock (heshbon
ha-nefesh) of our lives and actions from the past year, I believe that we
should also think about the places where we were formed and where we now live. Forgetting
these landscapes is a kind of sin. We must remember the rocks, the soils, the
water, the flora and the fauna and what they imparted and continue to impart to
our lives in real concrete ways. Each one is different; each one has special
qualities that we are mostly not conscious of. So as part of our spiritual
accounting we should try to bring these places out of our unconsciousness into
our consciousness. Maybe this process will teach us to understand how we are of
the earth.
Our tradition often tries to symbolically connect us with
the land of Israel which provides a foundation for
our identities as Jews. Collectively, it is the land which formed us as a
people and where we still live in our collective memory. But each of us also
has a place and a foundation from which we came, an actual place where the
minerals of the soil, the water we drink and the air we breathe has given shape
to our flesh. Let us not forget these places. Let us remember and, ask for
forgiveness for the sin of forgetting that place from which we came and to
which we will go.
Rabbi Lawrence Troster is the rabbi of Kesher Israel
Congregation in West Chester , Pennsylvania
and is the Rabbi-in-Residence at the Thomas Berry Forum for Ecological Dialogue
at Iona College
in New Rochelle ,
New York .
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.