Give ear. Hear.  

“Give ear, O heavens, to what I say, and let the earth hear my words; 

May my teaching come down like rain, my speech distill as the dew, 

Like storm-drops on the grass, and like dew-drops on the pasture, 

For I speak in the name of the Lord—give glory to our God!” 

Last night we talked about what we needed to hear from Moses as we are poised ready to cross over the river Jordan. There were many good thoughts. It’s going to be OK. Take my hand, I’ll go with you. I’m scared, tell me it is going to be OK. You’re going with me, right?  

And then the heavens opened, a brief and very needed rain storm, with a little bit of thunder ensued. Some even were lucky enough to see a rainbow, the sign of the covenant between G-d and Noah. The promise that G-d is never going to destroy the earth again. A reminder that we are partners with G-d in Creation and that we, too need to protect the earth—our ark! But we’ll talk more about rainbows in a few weeks. 

That rainstorm made me think of Honi the Circle Drawer. Usually, we tell the story of Honi and the carob tree and our responsibility to plant for our children and children’s children. Another way of taking care of our environment. Often, we tell the story for Tu B’shevat, the New Year of the Trees.  

But there is another story. About praying for rain. There was a drought. Not unlike what we are currently experiencing in northern Illinois. Did you know we are down at least 6 inches of rainfall? 

God was nowhere to be found, nowhere to be heard. Honi prayed anyway.  The people had stopped believing that they could hear G-d but Honi believed G-d would still hear them. Water is necessary. Particularly in a desert. When rain is plentiful, it is an afterthought. During a drought it becomes the only thought.  

Of course, being Judaism, there are two stories of what happened, both in the Talmud: Taanit 19a[3] and 23a 

Honi drew a circle in the dust, stood inside it and demanded that G-d provide rain or he would not move until it rained. It began to drizzle. But Honi was not satisfied. He expected more rain. Then it poured. Still Honi was not satisfied. He wanted a calm, gentle rain. Then it began to rain gentle, healing raindrops, a sign of G-d’s grace and compassion.  

Perhaps this story reminds you of the scene from Frisco Kid. The chief asks the rabbi, “Can your G-d make rain?” And he answers that “G-d does not make rain. He can do anything. He gives us strength when we are suffering. He gives us compassion…he gives us courage….but He does not make rain.” 

Can your God make rain? 

In Hebrew we talk about G-d bestowing blessings and loving kindness upon us, “Gomel hasadim tovim.” Gomel is from the same root as gamel, camel. G-d’s lovingkindness and blessing fills us up, like a camel is filled up, again with water. 

We, here in northern Illinois, are still experiencing a drought. We are down approximately 6 inches in rain fall for the year. The retaining pond by my house is drying up. The summer of 2020 became known as the hottest on record, from 1871. How do we receive rain? How are we filled up.  

Soon it will be Sukkot. Sukkot is actually my favorite holiday. One of the reasons is it is connected to the water cycle. In this verse there is a difference between geshem, rain and tal, dew. It is on Sukkot that we change our Amidah and pray for rain—but not until the very end of the holiday, the chag. Sukkot was a pilgrimage festival, where people would go up to Jerusalem. You wouldn’t want to pray for rain until after you returned home. You wouldn’t want to traipse through the all the mud to get home. 

Some say that the lulav is an ancient form of a rain stick, calling down G-d’s blessing of rain upon us.  

On the second night of Sukkot, in the time of the Temple there was more celebration of water. There was an actual water drawing ceremony, Simchat Beit Sho’eivah. Everyone was gathered. Men, women and children.  It was the harvest festival. Zeman Simchatenu, the time of our joy. This ceremony reflected that joy–joy in our families, joy in our harvest and joy with our God, the God who provides rain and water, harvest and home. The people would hope for and pray for God’s protection and blessing as they prayed for rain in its proper season. They drew water from the pool of Shiloh in the City of David in an elaborate water drawing ritual, the Nisuch Hamayim based on the verse: 

“And you shall draw waters with joy from the wells of salvation.” (Isaiah 12:3) 

We know that verse from the circle dance, Mayim.  

On the second night of Sukkot, the high priest of the Temple would draw special waters from an underground spring called “Shiloach” that flowed near the temple grounds—these waters were known as the wellsprings of salvation and were considered to be a source of prophecy and revelation. The priest would enter the Temple grounds through the Water gate in the south, bearing a gold flask of water, approaching an altar where four high torches were burning in the north. The water of the sacred wellsprings served as a libation to be poured over a stone altar while the priest faced southwest (direction of water and earth), thus drawing water and prophecy down to earth.  

Not only did they draw water, but there was a spiritual transformation as well. The rabbis asked why this celebration is called simchat beit ha-sho’eivah because the Hebrew meaning is uncertain. They answer that from there one draws the spirit of holiness. Yonah ben Amitai was one of the pilgrims who went up to Jerusalem for the festival. He went to the simchat bet ha-sho’evah and the spirit of holiness rested upon him. This teaches us that the spirit of holiness rests upon you when your heart is filled with joy. 

 This ceremony drew down Shechinah, the Divine Presence, the Indwelling Holiness and blessed Israel with beneficial rains and the blessings of water. Sukkot is all about tactile blessings. Waving the lulav and etrog, dwelling in the sukkah, full body mitzvot. It is like the healing waters of the mikvah and maybe why I am so drawn to this commandment.  

Today’s portion also has to do with teshuvah. While the end of the Yom Kippur liturgy keeps repeating that the gates are closing, in truth, the gates are never closed. We still have the opportunity to return, to heal, to heal the earth. James Kugel teaches,  

“It may not be inappropriate, however, to mention something about a key word connected to Yom Kippur: teshuvah (repentance). People often stress that this word comes from the Hebrew root meaning “return,” but that’s not altogether correct. “Return” is indeed one sense of the root shuv, but this verb does not always mean going back to a place where one has already been.  A more inclusive definition might be to “change direction.” A Jew who had led a totally secular existence and suddenly turns to God is called a ba‘al teshuvah. He’s not going back to somewhere, but embarking on something entirely new. In this and other cases, the word teshuvah would best be rendered as “turn,” “turn around,” and the like. This embodies an important message for everyone on Yom Kippur as well as for the Shabbat that follows it. No matter where one has been until now, it is a time to consider one’s past mistakes and change direction.” 

“Like water, teshuvah is both destructive and creative. It dissolves the person you were but simultaneously provides the moisture you need to grow anew. It erodes the hard edges of your willfulness but also refreshens your spirit. It can turn the tallest barriers of moral blindness into rubble while it also gently nourishes the hidden seeds of hope buried deep in your soul. Teshuvah, like water, has the power both to wash away past sin and to shower you with the blessing of a new future, if only you trust it and allow yourself to be carried along in its current.” Dr. Louis Newman 

The question today, then has to be asked, as we prepare for Sukkot, how are we going to do teshuvah for the environment, the very land and the very water that G-d began to create with. How are we going to be partners with G-d in this glorious creation. What are we going to demand of G-d, like Honi and what are we going to demand of ourselves?