Life consists of a series of separations. They can evoke from us despair. They can also evoke from us a fruitful longing for connection. View the study sheet here. Watch the recording here.
It is now exactly three weeks until election day. I don’t know what it is like where you are, but in my neck of the woods things have gotten a little tense. The public debate over both candidates and ballot measures has becomes strident. Differences of opinion about policy choices and political leadership devolve into accusations about one’s character and motivations. All too rare is the notion that one can be an honorable person and have a community’s best intentions at heart yet make different choices on the ballot than another. America’s grand exercise of public debate and self-government has instead become a sharpened instrument of division.
On both a social level and a deeply personal one, we know how being separated from that which we hold precious can develop into feelings of loss, despair, and depression and morph into grievance, anger and even violence. Yet, division is not always a bad thing. In fact, in the Torah that is how all of creation comes into existence: through a series of ongoing separations.
Included in this post is a painting by Br. Kenneth Chapman, a member of the Congregation of Christian Brothers, entitled Waters Above Waters Below. The Christian Brothers is a world-wide community within the Catholic Church. It was founded in 1802 by Edmund Ignatius Rice in Waterford, Ireland. A special foundation was set up within the community to support Brother Artists to enable them to express their spirituality and service to community through their art. Br. Chapman in particular views his art as chronicling a deep mindfulness of creation, attentiveness to human emotion and a fascination with the evolving cosmos.
His painting here was inspired by Genesis 1:7: God made the expanse, and it separated the water which was below the expanse from the water which was above the expanse. Jewish tradition understands separation as a necessary element of existence which can evoke a desire for the restoration of unity: The lower waters long to go up in order to be reunited with their other half (Midrash, B’reishit Rabbah).
As the sun sets on a Saturday we have the opportunity to observe havdalah (separation). We separate from Shabbat, not in sorrow but in joy with light and spices and wine. In Shabbat we once again experienced wholeness, fulfillment, peace. At its conclusion we draw in the insight, the consciousness altering and the sweet contentment of Shabbat so as to bring its reviving glory into the mundane world we also inhabit.
As election day nears, I remember that the arguments are a reflection not only of our fears and anxieties. The votes we take are not just bids for power. Amid the rough and tumble of politics there is at heart a yearning for beloved community. And it must be not a gift but one of our making.
