Rabbi Breit's Blog

Adar is a month of joy, when the rabbis teach we are instructed to increase our simcha. This month for Lunch and Learn I’m teaching a two part series, Practicing Joy. Last Tuesday we discussed what to add into your life to build joy. Next Tuesday we will be learning what to restrict from your life to do the same.

The premise is consistent: Jews are thoughtful builders of joy.

What does that mean? It means we don’t expect big moments of good feelings to simply strike us from above. We don’t see suffering and sadness as endless punishment. We don’t measure ourselves by the darkness heaped upon us, but by our stubborn insistence on making light. We know making joy is hard work, and we will put in the time and effort to do it.

At some times this practice is harder than others. We might not feel joy is appropriate or accessible or even possible in the darkest times. And we are a people who also hold firmly to the importance of also honoring feelings of grief (as at a shiva), sadness (on fast days), fear (in the face of an awe-inspiring God), or anger, which even God is feeling frequently in the Torah. But the work of building communal joy is foundational to our job of welcoming God down to earth.

This week’s parsha tells with detail how the Israelites will run the mishkan, God’s house on earth. For it to operate, the people  must bring “clear oil of beaten olives for lighting, for kindling lamps regularly”. Meaning: no matter the season, no matter the harvest, no matter their mood, every day they bring a bit of prize oil for this central light.

It is a simple task but one that requires ongoing, daily, labor. This fine oil, clear oil of beaten olives, took great effort to produce. And everyone in the community is part of supplying it. Each, individually, might not produce so much fuel to burn a whole lamp. But when they pooled their oil together, it lit the ner tamid — the eternal flame, a likes of which hangs in every Jewish sanctuary, brightening the whole space.

If joy has been hard for you to reach these days, maybe think of building it like adding oil to the community’s lamp. Each day you might not see such a big light. And sometimes processing oil might feel like a real drag. But every day you have to crush some olives to grow the warmth of a bright flame. That might mean cooking food for people you love, working hard on a new skill, making art, knitting sweaters -- giving your time, energy, or resources to your home, neighbors, and friends. There is a certain level of drudge work in making light and building joy. But it’s each of these tasks that brings joy closer and lights the fire of the eternal flame. Happy Adar!