During the month of Shevat, we celebrate Tu B'Shevat, the
holiday of the trees. By the 15th of this month, the fruit trees in
the Land of Israel are beginning to blossom. Nature is waking up, and the
whole world seems to be filled with a wonderful potential.
A seed is the epitome of potential. Hidden within the seed is
every root, branch and leaf of the tree it will one day give birth to. Also
within the seed is every fruit it will bring into the world - hundreds and
hundreds of them.
Yet when you're hungry, you can't eat a seed and be satisfied
with it. When you're thirsty, you can't squeeze the seed and get some juice.
And when it's hot outside, you can't sit under a seed and get some shade.
A seed in the state of potential may be a miracle, but it is a
small one. It is only when the seed wakes up from its slumber and dares to
become a tree - when we see what a mighty creation sprang forth from such a
small beginning - that we realize how great the miracle is.
A song of ascents. When God will return the captivity of
Zion, we were like dreamers (126:1).
We recite Psalm 126 before we say Bircat Hamazon (Grace
After Meals) on Shabbat and holidays. On these special days, which are meeting
places in time with God, we are aware that we are living on two different
planes of existence.
On the one hand, these days are times of oneg
(enjoyment) where we enjoy, in the here and now, both physical and spiritual
pleasures: fine food and wine, Torah study, good company and song. Yet despite
the pleasure we receive from these days, we know it is nothing like the
pleasure we will experience when God ends our "captivity" and brings about the
final Redemption.
We can try to imagine what those days will be like, but we
know that when the Redemption finally happens, we will realize that everything
that came before was like a dream. We will wonder how we were ever satisfied
with just a "taste" of the World to Come; and how we ever managed to quench
our thirst for Torah in a world without the Beis Mikdash
(Temple).
Then our mouths will be filled with laughter,
and our tongue with song. Then the nations will say, 'God has done greatly
with these.'
God has done greatly with us, we were happy (2:3).
Laughter is a response to the unexpected. When we can guess
beforehand the punch line to a joke, we just smile at the joke's ending or
maybe give a polite chuckle. When the joke takes us completely by surprise,
however, we break out into laughter. Why then does the psalmist not only say
that we will laugh when the Redemption occurs, but that our mouths will be
filled with laughter? Haven't we been waiting 2,000 years for this very event
to occur? Where is the surprise?
The "nations" may, one day, be surprised to learn that God,
indeed, has fulfilled His promise to the Jewish People, and we will certainly
be filled with joy and song when the Exile comes to an end. But the biggest
surprise of all for us will be when we look back at the past and realize that
"we were happy" - during all those years of waiting and longing for the
Redemption to come, our happiness was real.
To what can this be compared? When a person starts a new
business, the beginning years are often tough. The owner has to put in long
hours. There are often problems with cash flow, as the owner tries to build up
a client base, negotiate better terms with suppliers and gradually expand.
Even when the business matures, there are still causes for concern: new
competitors, a changed economic climate, finding and keeping good staff.
Success is never a guaranteed result of effort, and at any
moment the business can fail - taking with it, as it goes under, many hard
years of work. All the long hours, all the dreams - it can seem like putting
so much time, money and effort into this business was a colossal waste of
time. And this can lead a person to despair and bitter regret.
But when the owner is about to retire and she sees that her
business has been a tremendous success, she is not just happy at what her
current balance sheet shows her. She takes pleasure in all the work she did
along the way. She realizes that she was right to put in so much effort in the
beginning to make the venture a success. She can see there was, indeed, a
reward for all the headaches and sleepless nights. Now that she has reached
the destination, she knows for sure that she was on the right track. She knows
that the happiness she felt when she was just beginning was not an illusion -
a fool's paradise. Her happiness was rooted in something solid. It was real.
So, too, with us. Not only will we be happy at the moment the
Redemption occurs, we will look back at the 2,000 years of Exile and finally
be able to fully enjoy the efforts we made, as a people, to make this
Redemption happen. When we see that our prayers and tears and songs did have
meaning - and that not a single one of them was lost or a waste of time - we
will laugh with the joy of complete happiness.
Return, God, our captivity,
like springs in the desert.
Those who sow with tears,
will reap with glad song.
He who walks long the way crying,
carrying his seeds,
he will come back with glad song,
carrying his sheaves (4:6).
One might think that the psalmist would end his psalm with a
plea for an end to the Exile, and concentrate on all the good things that God
will do for us in the future. Instead, he ends with a plea for transformation.
The word "return" has within it the word "turn," and turning
has a very different meaning than ending something. An overflowing spring does
not make the tract of land disappear. Instead, the spring's waters reveal the
potential that was hidden inside the parched desert landscape as it transforms
the land into a verdant oasis. Yet the desert also gives the spring something
- it gives the spring's waters meaning.
An alien from a different galaxy might look at water and think
it has no purpose - after all, water has no color or taste. It is only when we
see how water gives life to all living things that we realize what a
miraculous substance it is. Without the spring, there would be no oasis, and
the very presence of the oasis gives honor to the spring.
And so it will be with the final Redemption. Even as we enjoy
the bounty of that time, we will acknowledge that this bounty would not have
been possible without those who planted the seeds of the Redemption through
their performance of mitzvot (commandments) and chessed (kind
deeds).
The Redemption will not be a complete break with the past and
the creation of something totally new. It will be a transformation of
potential - a dream of Redemption - into actuality. This transformation will
occur because of our efforts as a people ("Those" who sow), and also because
of each individual's efforts ("He" who walks) to bring the Redemption one step
closer.
When the final Redemption occurs, we will give honor to all
the seeds that were planted by a little prayer here and a few tears there. And
we will be amazed that these seeds grew into such a great tree bearing such
wondrous fruit.