We often say that Hanukkah brightens up the “darkest time of the year.” As the clocks change and the December sun sets at 4pm, we light candles when the days are short and the nights are long.
December might be the “darkest time of the year” for us humans, but nature tells a different story. In December, the earth is newly covered with frost. But by late January, the grass has been under the snow for weeks. The trees have gone months without leaves to catch the sun.
It is at this time of year—the dead of winter—when we celebrate the holiday of Tu BiShvat, or “new year for trees.” Even if all seems cold and bare, Tu BiShvat reminds us that seeds will grow and flowers will blossom. Tu BiShvat has a message of hope for anyone who feels as if they are buried deep under the snow: this too shall pass.
I was looking forward to celebrating Tu BiShvat at JCOGS this weekend in anticipation of the holiday, which begins this Wednesday night. Unfortunately, my fiancée Shira is back in the hospital and will need significant care in the days to come. As I am unable to come to JCOGS, I am deeply grateful to Lynne Gedanken and Susan Bauchner for stepping in to lead Friday night services at 6pm tonight, Rachel Funk for supporting Kinderlach & Gesher at 10am tomorrow, and to JCOGS members and staff—especially Cyndy Wyatt, Beth Liberman, Laura Kittel, and Amy Rosenthal—for their partnership and support.
In a world that needs hope, I invite you to mark Tu BiShvat in a way that speaks to you. Those interested in a Tu BiShvat Seder—which, like a Passover Seder, can feature singing, special foods, storytelling, discussion, and four symbolic cups of grape juice or wine— may click here to access a guide I created for the JCOGS community. Skip around and make it your own. Don’t read every word. Have fun.
When confronted with uncertainty, Shira and I often rehash an old debate. “I can hope for the best or expect the worst,” she says, “and I have learned it is better to live hoping for the best.” I, on the other hand, can fear disappointment. “I don’t want to get my hopes up,” I sometimes say.
On Tu BiShvat, we sync up with the earth’s calendar at the darkest point of its year. We do so not to give ourselves the winter blues, but to remind us that seasons change and the world turns. We hope for the best.
