Turn it, and turn it, for everything is in it.
In search of the less orthodox the young man and I ride the E to Court Street
debark at Long Island City
for Attic Studios, a loft high space of splendid light and spacious views -- the spires of Manhattan, the Queesnboro bridge,
the low slung, smaller town feel just a river across --
and a new year's service of 100 souls.
Rabbi Elianna presiding in the full ebullient spark of her 30's her father Myron the stalwart cantor her uncle the shofar trumpeter of linebacker build her brother absent but acknowledged as one who does not like shul
but who baby sits her infant twins.
The young man peels off early on
and I settle in tearing up at some at the rabbi's asides --
write your grievances in sand and your gratitude in stone --
smirking at others --
" this is the essence of Judaism in one sentence:" as a dozen sentences pour forth
remembering quickly the tedium of services past determined this time for first time in long time to see it through.
Another soul needed for aliyah?
I hesitate and step forward -- Rachmeal ben Mordecai - the words flowing as familiar and smooth as river stone.
Most attend to their sleek modern prayer books but not an old man in the back sitting by his granddaughter an old Israeli I imagine -- veteran perhaps of desert wars -- who never opens his book or his lips in prayer --
smiling just slightly as he touches the passing Torah.
He is one model for me, Rabbi Elianna another
as they each in their own way see this one through and I salute a portion of each.
Afterward a table laden with the food my bubba made and a stroll home thru this gentle afternoon of early fall.
My rabbi's home page offers its own sliver
for this afternoon and for tomorrow:
Turn it, and turn it, for everything is in it.
Reflect on it and grow old and gray with it.
Don't turn from it, for nothing is better than it.
-2013