On Longing & Letting Go

Welcome to the OMFG podcast, Jewish wisdom for unprecedented times. My name is Rabbi Jen Gubitz, and together with my friend and co-conspirator Rabbi Jodi Gordon, we're glad you're with us.

OMFG is not just a podcast, it's a philosophy, a worldview, a way of keeping it Jewish while keeping it real.

Sometimes, especially if those times are any time in the last few years, the world just gives you an opportunity and then another opportunity and then another opportunity to say, "OMFG!" Now, the world is the world, but Jewish tradition inspires us to call out to each other and sometimes to God and to figure out what it all means.

And so this podcast is our way of inviting you into the conversation.

So in true OMFG fashion, we hope you're wearing some comfy pants and sipping an iced coffee or seltzer. Welcome, welcome to OMFG. Oof, Jodi, happy Yom Kippur. How was your Rosh Hashanah? It never loses its— I love saying happy Yom Kippur. It just never loses its joy. How— but how was your Rosh Hashanah?

It was so interesting. So, um, I feel like Rosh Hashanah felt totally different to me. And like, for the first time in a long time, I was nervous about leading services. Um, so this year my, my role on the bima was different. And so I played the part of a cantor. We don't have a cantor here at our synagogue. We've had lots of amazing, um, musical additions to our bima in years past. And this year, as I said to our choir, there's no one coming to save us. It's just me. Um, but actually it turned out to be sort of amazing. Uh, I, I don't know, I— my experience of preparing for the holidays was totally different. Learning the music was really interesting, and it made me pay attention to the liturgy in this whole new way. And I had this sort of— I sort of tongue-in-cheek described the experience as being like, wait, did you know all this stuff is in this prayer book? Like, this is some really good stuff. Like, we should be praying this, we should be paying attention because having to learn the music and learn the words, so to speak, ahead of time, sort of, it just deepened the whole thing for me. And that was pretty cool. So what about you? How's your start to 5783?

I do love going through the prayer book each year and being like, oh right, that's so good, that reading or that prayer. And then trying to figure out how to fit them all in in 90 minutes or less is always a challenge. My High Holy Days, my Rosh Hashanah was was good. I led erev Rosh Hashanah services for My Jewish Learning on Zoom, and I'm one of the people who loves Zoom prayer and Zoom gatherings. And so I love being able to bring people together from everywhere, everywhere around the world. Really special. And then the next day I led family services at Temple Shalom where I work, and we did a fun story about the Messiest Torah. We had a student named Miles dress up as the Torah and he was hiding in the Ark. But my colleague forgot the Torah costume we bought for him on Amazon. And so we went to my office and we're like, what do I have? What can we do to make a costume? And I happened to have a tutu at work because of my love of 5782. And so we put him in my gold tutu, a tallit, and a hard hat. I don't know why there's a hard hat in there. And I was— he was like, what's the hard hat for? And I was like, Life is hard. Get in the ark. You're gonna be great. Um, and then I also did Tashlich in canoes and kayaks because what better way to get close to the water to cast away your sins than to canoe in it?

Wait, did you actually canoe?

I did not canoe. I stayed on, I stayed on dry ground and I had, I brought them tortillas to throw into the water because that's what I could find at the the, you know, like the dollar store in Waltham, and it seemed like they would be sustained if they got wet a little longer than a piece of bread. But no, I stayed on dry land and cast my sins from, from the walkway. Yep. Yep.

Nice. I mean, it really is such an incredible season. I did, I might have said the words earlier this week of like, there's kind of part of me that wishes it could be Rosh Hashanah like all the time. Like everyone's there. There's like so much. Energy and excitement. I mean, I don't really mean it because the days are beautiful, but they are also long and they are full and they're exhausting. But, you know, the themes of the holidays, all the Torah portions and the haftarah readings, it's like, here we go, the highs and lows of being a human, greatest hits.

I've heard it's, you know, trending on the New York Times bestseller and Billboard. But yeah, the themes are— I mean, it's really, it's It's amazing when you trace them. The themes go from reflection and introspection in the month of Elul, to renewal and joy, but also brokenness, because the shofar reminds us of that, on Rosh Hashanah, to repentance and repair on Yom Kippur, but that's also a day of joy through many interpretations, to impermanence and abundance, Sukkot, to prayers for rain on Hosanna Rabbah, to Shmini Atzeret, put an asterisk there, we'll come back to that— to dancing with the Torah, Simchat Torah. It's exhausting even like listing out everything that happens in this, this short time period. Um, pretty incredible.

I know. But so, okay, I have a question for you, Jen, and, and perhaps this is really like, it's the question. And I asked this question after 5 years of rabbinical school. I asked this question after 4 years as an undergraduate at Brandeis University where I had this day off every year. But what's— what is Shmini Atzeret, right? Like, we could get lofty. What's the spiritual theme of Shmini Atzeret? But really, what is—

how— what is it? It's such a good question. Um, And if I'm honest, the truth is that every year I have to refresh my Sukkot data because every synagogue I've done it at does it differently. Not to mention how I grew up, not to mention what it was like living in Israel. And so I promise we're going to answer that question of what is Shmini Atzeret, why is Shmini Atzeret, how is Shmini Atzeret. But before we do that, I think we have to clear up a little bit about the last few days of Sukkot.

Totally. So let's get this straight. Sukkot is 7 days in Israel and for Reform Jews, and it is 8 days in the Diaspora. The 7th day of Sukkot observes Hashanah Rabbah, the 8th day is Shemini Atzeret, and all of that is followed by another day that we call Simchat Torah.

Yes, exactly. So if you work or practice in a community that is a Reform community, it's unlikely that your community acknowledges Hoshana Rabbah, or maybe they'll mention it. And then Shmini Atzeret and Simchat Torah can get collapsed into one day. But I really had to, as we were texting about this, I had to go on a deep dive study to really understand this. So all of our learning together will culminate in this podcast moment.

I mean, it's, it's definitely confusing. You're not alone. So let's not assume that Hoshana Rabbah is super familiar to folks either. A little more detail: for communities that do observe Hoshana Rabbah, it can get pretty wild. The name of the holiday means "the Great Hoshana," which is a series of 7 liturgical poems praying to God to rescue and redeem the Jewish people, primarily by sending rain. Now, for an agrarian society, or for those of us living with drought today, we can see why prayers for rain would be so important.

The rabbis of the Talmud actually considered Hoshana Rabbah to be a mini Yom Kippur, except that this time Judgment Day had to do with reward or punishment connected to rain. Some observances include the night before Jews staying up late studying the book of Deuteronomy, and then in the morning observing a ritual of hakafot, circling around the prayer space wherever they are gathered.

And at the end of the final circling, people take willow branches and shake them against the ground as a final attempt to shake away all of our sins.

Have you seen— this is like my all-time favorite YouTube video. It's a Vahashanah rabbi service in Jerusalem, and the room is full of men wearing tallit prayer shawls and praying. And then suddenly, one of the men is holding not what looks like a willow branch, but like a whole willow tree. Have you seen this?

I have not.

Okay, I'll send it to you. And he starts flailing it and hitting it against the ground, but it's so big that he ends up like whacking those around him. I wonder if he had a lot of sins to shake away, but we'll share that on Instagram so you can have a good laugh. I laugh. I go back to it often to bring me joy because it's just that funny.

This guy is like, a branch is not going to do it. I need the whole— So circling back Hoshana Rabbah, pun intended. The next day, right after that, Hoshana Rabbah, the next day comes Shemini Atzeret. And Shemini Atzeret gives us a bit of a clue to what it is just in its name. Shemini, like the name of the number 8, Shmona, and Atzeret, which actually no one really knows for sure what it means. It could mean to stop, but the rough translation of the holiday means the 8th day of assembly. The Book of Numbers states precisely this: "And on the 8th day," right, Yom Shmini, "it shall be an assembly, atzeret, for you." But as it turns out, sigh of relief, it hasn't always been clear what the holiday was for the sages either.

I was trying to figure out what atzeret meant, and I asked Matan if stop signs in Israel have that word, and they don't. They just have symbols.

Yep.

So that was You know, trying to find like a modern relevance. Like, I know no one has ever figured out exactly what this word is, but I will tell you based on traffic signals. Um, so get this. So the Talmud refers to it at one point as the last day of the festival, but in another place in the Talmud, it refers to it as its own festival. And sort of, they didn't know either, or they weren't positive. They didn't decide. It's not exactly like Sukkot because we stopped shaking the lulav in Etrog. We do still eat in our sukkah, but no longer recite the blessing for the mitzvah of "leshiv basukkah," dwelling in the sukkah. And then we recite Yizkor memorial prayers. And finally, we recite the Geshem prayer, the prayer for rain, which we continue to say until we get to Passover when we start to pray for dew again. And after a long, hot, parched summer, it's truly a prayer of revival.

Hmm.

Cantor, how does that sound?

Ma shevaru ahumori d'agashem. Blessed are you, God of weather patterns, who causes the wind to blow and the rain to fall.

Honestly, I feel like Shmini Atzeret is in the middle child zone. Some lack of clarity, sometimes forgotten, no photos, occasionally ends up on YouTube with a big willow branch tree.

Jen, it seems like you really resonate with this holiday. We could talk about that later. You could maybe bring up Shemini Atzeret with a therapist, but I already had therapy today, so I think I am okay. So let us think through, though, the spiritual message of this holiday. 19th century German Orthodox Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch interprets the word Atzeret, meaning to gather or to store up, suggesting— and I love this— that on this penultimate day of the High Holy Day season, We have to gather up and store all of our gratitude in order to sustain us until Hanukkah because after every rabbi's favorite Hebrew month, Cheshvan, comes Kislev. Woo! And it's not until the end of that month that we get to celebrate another holiday. So the message is one of gratitude and shoring up our sense of awe and appreciation, especially as we enter the darker days of winter.

Puh, puh, puh. Yeah, right? It's kind of wild to think that it's almost 2 full months, or it's 2 full months without a holiday, and also delightful just to celebrate Shabbat and Havdalah.

Totally.

So there's another beautiful teaching that I think augments the one that you shared. So Rashi comments on that text you mentioned from the Book of Numbers and suggests that atzer is used here as a term of affection, as would be used by parents or loved ones who when their children are leaving home, say to them, "Your departure is difficult for me. Put it off for another day." Shmini Atzeret, then, according to Rashi, is about more time, about longing for more time with loved ones, and then also about letting go.

I really can't think of a more human idea, like longing for more time with loved ones who have died, more time with friends when you're having a blast, more beautiful summer days or crisp autumn nights, more joy, more gratitude. Ultimately, Shemini Atzeret is the Jewish goodbye. You know, when we say goodbye but never really leave.

Like people known as the Gubitzes among them, who start a sentence with, "I'm going to go begin saying my goodbyes." Totally.

When I say that, Josh is like, "Cool, cool, cool. See you in another 45 minutes." But what is it, though, about the holidays that makes the rabbis imagine that we won't want to let go? Which comes counter to that idea of, "OMFG, I'm so done," right? Is there a version of the holidays that we can imagine getting us to feel that feeling of wanting to get just one more day?

I think it's about having intimate time with your heart and soul, time with family and friends, time with community. For some, it's about time with God or nature, all of which is countercultural to how most of us live our lives rushing around. And forgetting where we put our keys. So my version of the High Holy Days that I would want one more day of would include some liturgy and reflection. Liturgy being a broad sentence that could include Mary Oliver poetry and Sara Bareilles music.

Totally.

And like, what'd you say?

Brandy Carlyle. I want her.

And Brandy, yeah.

Shmini Atzeret.

She's actually playing in Boston on the 21st, so it's possible. It would happen in a beer garden with picnic tables, twinkly lights, and pickles or some other form of fermented foods. And so I realized what I just described is the High Holy Days at Tanglewood.

I'm in. I'm in. So I think, OK, so my vision for a don't go, I don't want the celebration to end, is actually that I would love it if the everyone You know, like, the everyone who came together for Rosh Hashanah Yom Kippur, um, would come back. I really love that feeling of like everyone came except instead of the bigness, right, like the slightly nicer outfits— like, we don't do fancy, it's still the Berkshires— but like, you know, the, the slight elevation of the high holidays, the formal music, etc. My vision of this like one last day would be all of us together in our comfy pants laughing and eating together until the last drop.

I love that. So I'm sort of into Shmini Atzeret and Judaism because it even has a ritual for that sense of feeling wistful. It also makes me think that I should stop referring to the holiday as Shmini Atzeret, Arkansas, i.e., like far away in— what's that? No man's land?

No man's land? Nowheresville?

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah. I mean, I only recently, as in 20 minutes ago, learned about this saying of yours called Shmini Atzeret Arkansas. And I know that I'm often telling you how funny you are, but I think that might be taking it too far.

I didn't make it up. I got it. I got it at school. I didn't make it up.

Okay, fine, fine. Fair enough. But here's the thing. I do think we could come up with some OMFG rain gear swag, like, OMFG, it's raining umbrellas, or OMFG, I just blow-dried my hair shower caps.

I'll add that to the merch page that still says coming soon. So Jodi, you suggested I might feel connected to me to Shmini Atzeret because of the middle child thing. That's definitely true, but also not unlike the Talmudic debate about the holiday, the family lore in the Gubitz family is that my mom went into labor with me during Shmini Atzeret, or maybe Simchat Torah. Heep Cow suggests the latter. And when I called to ask her, she was shopping for a Yom Kippur food drive. So we're just going to stick with the sort of family lore of how I came into the world.

Right. Which I'll just pause to say for our OMG listeners, that means it is the Rabbi Jen Gubitz's birthday ever so soon. And we should all be wishing you a very happy, big birthday.

Thank you.

I really— it does feel sort of like perfectly and tragically Jewish that you were born like either on Shmini Atzeret or Simchat Torah. Like, they're both perfect. Like, let's just say that.

It's so true. So there's our spiritual arc, Jodi, of the entire High Holy Day season. From reflection and introspection on Elul, to renewal and joy on Rosh Hashanah, to repentance and repair on Yom Kippur, to impermanence and abundance on Sukkot, to prayers for rain and fully ridding ourselves of sin on Hosanna Rabbah.

To Shemini Atzeret, my new favorite holiday, a day for filling up on gratitude and longing.

Then to dancing with the Torah on Simchat Torah and fully letting go of the past year, because on that holiday we start reading the Torah from Bereshit, all the way back to the beginning again.

It's pretty amazing. I mean, it also feels to me like no wonder you personally invented a new modern holiday.

We did forget to include this modern holiday in the arc of the holidays, and that holiday is called Leshiv Basofah. It is an opportunity to fulfill the mitzvah of dwelling on your couch, binge-watching television, wearing comfy pants, and drinking seltzer or cold brew.

So basically, OMFG is the official sponsor of Leshiv Basofah because you just described us.

So I want to wish everyone A happy Shmini Atzeret.

We hope you feel like these holidays have been such a good party, you wish you could stay just a little bit longer. And we want to leave you today with a poem and a blessing.

This poem is by Mary Oliver. Last night the rain spoke to me, slowly saying, what joy to come falling out of the brisk cloud to be happy again. In a new way on the earth.

That's what it said as it dropped, smelling of iron, and vanished like a dream of the ocean into the branches and the grass below. Then it was over.

The sky cleared. I was standing under a tree. The tree was a tree with happy leaves, and I was myself, and there were stars in the sky. They were also themselves. At which moment my right hand was holding my left hand, which was holding the tree, which was filled with stars and the soft rain.

Imagine, imagine the long and wondrous journeys still to be ours.

See you next time.

This episode of the OMFG podcast was brought to you by rabbis Jen Gubitz and Jodi Gordon, editing by Jesse Ulrich, and Snark, Straight from Adonai.