Whoever put on a tallis when he was young will never forget:
taking it out of the soft velvet bag, opening the folded shawl,
spreading it out, kissing the length of the neckband (embroidered
or trimmed in gold). Then swinging it in a great swoop overhead
like a sky, a wedding canopy, a parachute. And then winding it
around his head as in Hide-and-Seek, wrapping
his whole body in it, close and slow, snuggling into it like the cocoon
of a butterfly, then opening would-be wings to fly.
And why is the tallis striped and not checkered black and white
like a chessboard? Because squares are finite and hopeless.
Stripes come from infinity and to infinity they go
like airport runways where angels land and take off
Whoever has put on a tallis will never forget.
When he comes out of a swimming pool or the sea,
he wraps himself in a large towel, spreads it out again
over his head, and again snuggles into it close and slow,
still shivering a little, and he laughs and blesses.

Yehuda Amichai

Have you ever been on a vacation and wanted to bring back a keepsake, a souvenir, to keep the feeling alive?

This piece of Cadillac Mountain Granite is exactly that. A piece of jewelry that I could put in my pocket to finger and remind me of the feeling of being on top of Mount Cadillac. A place where life was simpler and I felt close to G-d. It has been much loved and is, in fact, cracked. Turns out granite isn’t as hard a rock as people thought.

Souvenir, from the French for remembrance or memory, is a memento, a keepsake or token of remembrance, an object you acquire for the memories associated with it.

That’s what today’s portion is about. A souvenir, something to keep the memory alive. What is that souvenir? What does G-d prescribe? Tying tzitzit on the edges of the Israelites garments, to remind them of the mitzvoth, or of G-d Himself. To remember that they were slaves in the land of Egypt and that G-d brought them out, us out with a strong hand and an outstretched arm.

These are the ties that bind. In fact the word religion, from the Latin religio, means to tie back up into. That’s what we try to do here. To tie ourselves together. To tie ourselves to the one true G-d. To remind ourselves of the experience of being a slave, and the power of the Exodus from Egypt. And the feeling of awe standing at Sinai.

Because this is Judaism, there are a couple of different schemata for how to tie the tzitzit. In one case each of the fringes contains 8 threads and 5 knots, and the word itself, tzitzit is the numerical equivalent of 600, so each strand represents 613, the number of the commandments.

In the other system, between each knot are carefully turned twists, representing the numerical equivalents of Yud (10), Hey (5), Vuv (6) Hey, (10) so representing the Divine.

Or you could ties them so that the long thread is wound around the other three between the five know as 7, 8, 11 and 13 times. 7, 8 and 11 totaling 26, the Yud, Hey, Vuv, Hey and the 13 totaling the word for echad, one.

Either way looking on the tzitzit reminds us of G-d and the commandments. Reminds us to be holy. Ties us, quite literally to the G-d, the commandments, and the community and its accepted standard of behavior.

In the business world there is a phrase, “hitch your wagon to a star.” It means to try to succeed by forming a relationship with someone who is already successful. It is from a 1862 essay by Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Civilization. Now you have to tie yourself to the right star—not a falling star—not one that is about to crash and burn. But by associating with greatness, by tying yourself to their success, you too can be successful.

We want to bind ourselves to a leader, to the right kind of leader, just like hitching your wagon to a star implies. Before we even get to tying tzitzit, we have another example of Moses and G-d’s leadership.

G-d is frustrated. Again. With His people of Israel. They just can’t seem to stop complaining. Kvetching. It doesn’t even matter what they are kvetching about this time. The people doesn’t seem to want to be bound up with this G-d. They don’t want to be hitched to this star. G-d has had enough and threatens to get rid of them. G-d hiself is being dragged down into the much. Moses, once again, in a pattern he has already learned, in words actually taught by G-d, intercedes and reminds G-d of G-d’s essential attributes. Using the words of the 13 Attributes that G-d taught Moses on Mount Sinai, Moses has the audacity to remind G-d that G-d is merciful and compassionate, slow to anger and patient, full of lovingkindness and truth, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin, even to the third and fourth generation. And G-d seems to suddenly remember, and says, the very words chant on Kol Nidre, Selachti Kidvachera. I have pardoned according to your word. Crisis averted.

G-d forgives. Again and again. The gates of forgiveness are always open. G-d’s love is for all time. And part of the reason for the tzitzit is to remember precisely that.

G-d seems to need to be reminded. G-d Himself wraps Himself in a tallit according to the Psalms. We know this from the Psalms and it is included in the blessing for putting on a tallit: “Bless Adonai, my soul! Adonai my God, how great You are, clothed in majesty and glory, wrapped in light like a robe. You spread out the heavens like a tent.” It is an image I have loved and part of why I decided to wear a tallit back when I was in college. When I wrap myself in my tallit, it is a powerful reminder of G-d’s presence and I am filled with light and the love of G-d.

But sometimes we forget. Or we don’t know. No one ever taught us. The message wasn’t transmitted. There is a chemical imbalance. This has been a hard week. A week that included the suicides of at least two prominent people. People who seemed like they had every thing going for them. People, who it turned out, struggled with their own demons. People who might have not felt or seen or remembered the ties that bind them—to their friends, their family, their community, their G-d. People who may not have been able to access or remember that feeling of being loved. Of not being lonely. And we may never know.

It used to be the popular wisdom, that we shouldn’t talk about such things publicly because it could cause other suicides, copycats. However, the better wisdom is that we need to talk about this very difficult subject.

There is help available…but if you are that person struggling with mental illness or addiction, it can be hard to reach out, hard to access the resources needed. You may not even know you are in that kind of pain, for you it may be normal. Or you have adapted so well and are so good at masking the feeling, it may be normal. If you are reading this, and need help, reach out. Call me. Call a friend. Call the national suicide hotline. 1-800-273-8255. It is not too late. You are worth it.

For the rest of us, it is incumbent upon us to be like Moses, to check in with friends, (even if that friend is G-d, because that is what we learned in last week’s parsha, that G-d is a friend) and make sure they really are OK—even if they appear to be happy, laughing, productive. Even if they seem to have it all.

Right now, what I want you to do is to get up, yes, out of your chairs, and make a circle. I have a ball of yarn here and we are going to bind ourselves together, making a web, with the things we need to have a healthy community, where we are bound one to another.

As we wove our web, the attributes we named were love, respect, honesty, safety, peace, patience, truth, compassion, courage, forgiveness, imagination, generosity, kidness, gratefulness, amongst others. Those are the keys, the 13 attributes that we possess, the tools we will take back into the week with us.

Carl Rogers, the famous psychologist used to say that before he would begin a session with a patient he would sit and say to himself. “I am enough” We have enough.

At the retreat this week, we were given keys to remind us of this very fact. And a beautiful poem by the Israeli poet, Rivka Miriam:

“That place, a bit above the latch
and a little to the left
no has ever touched or will anyone ever touch it
the hidden place on which no one has placed a hand
the place that does not know how to ask.

That place is like the mezuzah on our doors. Another symbol to remind us of our essential truths. We have the tools, we have the keys, we have the threads that bind that remind us. Ask, even if the person sitting before us doesn’t know how to ask.