It's Rosh Hodesh Av, once again our nation and our land are assaulted on all sides by those who seek our destruction, waiting for the Iranian hammer to fall. It's an especially terrifying way to go in to the Nine Days mourning the destruction of the ancient Judean kingdom and both ancient Jerusalem Temples which symbolised ancient Jewish sovereignty in our homeland.
Always though I'm reminded of my mother's teaching from the writings of the Esh Kodesh, the Piaseczner Rebbe, rebbe of the Warsaw ghetto: when you are dealing with hardship go out and help someone else.
Today's volunteering project was helping a nearby farm bring in and pack their grape harvest. The farmer has been on miluim for over 180 days, he's out for a few weeks to supervise the harvest and then goes back for a third tour of reserve duty.
It's the height of the summer school holidays, many volunteers came with their children or grandchildren. The vineyards were lively with young people and happy Hebrew chatter, some children as young as 9 or 10, eagerly harvesting the grapes, packing crates, running back and forth with water, cutters and boxes to help those working at the vines.
We were in the lowlands of the Shfela but the scene could easily have been a similar vineyard anywhere in Israel this time of year, from the southern deserts to the northern mountains.
It's the first day of Av, the start of the Nine Days of mourning but my mind turned to the verses of Jeremiah that speak of comfort and restoration, not impending doom and destruction:
עוֹד תִּטְּעִי כְרָמִים, בְּהָרֵי שֹׁמְרוֹן; נָטְעוּ נֹטְעִים, וְחִלֵּלוּ.
"You will once more plant vineyards upon the mountains of Samaria; the planters shall plant, and will enjoy their fruit."
Planting vines is an investment in the future, something that takes time to bear fruit, something that requires faith in tomorrow and next month and next year and the next five years, ten years.
Grape vines symbolise fertility, prosperity and peace. They are beautifully eye catching in full fruit but they are also a crop that requires stability and peace, a farmer who has the confidence to plant knowing that he will only see its benefits in the years to come.
Looking at the group of us wielding our pruning shears as we worked at the vines I couldn't help but thinking of another verse of comfort, this time from Isaiah:
וְכִתְּתוּ חַרְבוֹתָם לְאִתִּים, וַחֲנִיתוֹתֵיהֶם לְמַזְמֵרוֹת--לֹא-יִשָּׂא גוֹי אֶל-גּוֹי חֶרֶב, וְלֹא-יִלְמְדוּ עוֹד מִלְחָמָה.
they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more
No comments:
Post a Comment