Passing Before God
Deepening our relationship with God reminds us of our smallness, our greatness, and the chance to be better.
Reprinted with permission from The Eternal Journey: Meditations on the Jewish Year, published by Aviv Press.
"On Rosh Hashanah all who enter the world pass before God like sheep in a flock." (Tractate Rosh Hashanah 1:2)
What it means to pass before God is a mystery. Even Moses in his greatest moment, was told that he could not see God's face and live: He was placed in a cleft of the rock while God's glory passed by. So how can we possibly "pass before God"? Unsure of what this really means, we can only rely on our tradition, and the intimations of our own spiritual sensitivity.
Of course, one could take a negative view and ask why it matters so very much. After all, presumably the omniscient God, if there is a God, knows us, whether we are aware of it and whether we care about it or not. But unless we wish to live our lives blindly it is not a real option to be dismissive about our side of the relationship with God. It would be as if we didn't mind when people said to us, as happens from time to time. "I know you; don't you remember me?" I always feel mortified when I realize that I ought to have known the person concerned. Just as it shames me when a human encounter fails, so I would be pained to feel that I had gone through my life with God saying to me, as it were, "I know you, but you don't recognize or care about me!"
Furthermore, in having some sense of knowing and being known by the spirit, however vague and however fleeting, may lie one of life's greatest opportunities both for gaining self-knowledge and for discovering something of the vitality that is the expression of God's presence in the world.
Moments of Prayer
There are moments in life which disclose a deeper sense of being. They may occur in all sorts of circumstances but they are in essence moments of prayer. To sit beside a stream while the mind is emptied by the rush and plunge of water over the ledge of rocks; to listen at night to the sound of the wind in the trees; to become conscious of one particular tree, its sap, its wakefulness; to ponder the words of a poem and sense the company of all the people who have mused over the same image; to sit with the sick and learn from their speech and their silence what lies at the doors of mortality--in all these ways God enters our consciousness. These experiences calm the preoccupied mind, wake the dormant soul, and open us to the sheer power and depth of life.
At such moments there may come upon us a simultaneous realization of both our smallness and our greatness. Our smallness lies in the awareness that life and its beauty remain while we will pass away. We are a fragment of consciousness, set in a form of flesh and bound by the limitations of time, and all we know is virtually nothing.