Driving to work one dark morning not long ago, my eye caught site of one of the prominent digital marquee billboards along the interstate. The phrase "Life is" scrolled onto the screen and then disappeared. For a brief moment, I wondered if that was the entire message. But then the remaining words scrolled into view-- "in your hands."
Life is in your hands.
Though the whole message illuminated my morning, as if an answer to prayer, part of me wished that the marquee had just displayed "Life is..." and forced us wide-eyed commuters to fill in the blank. You know, the thoughtful person would fill in the blank not only once, but twice, possibly pondering about it all morning–while standing in line for coffee; in between phrases in conversations with co-workers; or giving left-over change to the homeless man who approached them on their morning walk.
As I ponder Arrival Day, as a Non-Jew, many themes come to mind--exiles, immigrants, refuge, a resilient spirit, a place to call home, and a rich spiritual heritage.
It used to be an annual event for Mormon youth to participate in what was called a road show; each congregation would write and direct a play in which the youth took part. These plays, or road shows, would then be performed at one of the bigger halls of the region, in front of thousands of adults and other youth performing in competing road shows.
One year, the theme of our congregation’s road show was "Bloom Where You Are Planted." The crux of the plot was that you could search the world over for happiness and acceptance, but where ever you plant yourself, you have to bloom in order to be truly happy. This was a poignant message because we lived in an economically-depressed region, in the midst of the high deserts of central Utah.
I like to think that the Jewish people have been exemplars of this very message, blooming in the landscapes in which they settle. If not exemplars, then a people resilient in spirit clinging to the hope of the promised land, as described in the Samuel Menashe poem Promised Land:
I know Exile
Is Always
Green with hope--
Or, in another poem by Paul Celan, titled Psalm, the narrator seems to ask God that they, as His children, may bloom despite His seeming apathy towards their suffering:
Blessed art thou, No One.
In thy sight would
we bloom.
In thy
spite.
In the Barbara Streisand film Yentl, Yentl seeks to break free from the social and religious mores that bind her after the death of her father. In the end of the film, she is standing on the bow of a ship that is heading to America. She sings about following your dreams, taking risks, looking beyond the social mores, and transcending above expectation.
It all began the day I found
That from my window
I could see a piece of sky
Her closing words are like those of a wise Rabbi; they are too an echo of this resilient spirit to continue on, even in the face of hardships:
The more I live–the more I learn.
The more I learn–the more I realize
The less I know.
Each step I take–
Each page I turn–
Each mile I travel only means
The more I have to go.
What’s wrong with wanting more?
If you can fly–then soar!
With all there is–why settle for
Just a piece of sky?
On a symbolic note--could Yentl’s last question be one that transcends the plight of owning landscape? Of living in the Promised Land? Does she point us to the sky because in the vast unending sky there is nothing to claim, nothing to own, nothing to fight over, nothing to be killed or to kill over?
Another celebrated American Jewish poet who comes to mind is Emma Lazarus. Her poem The New Colossus, likewise reflects themes representative of this Jewish resiliency. More than this, though, this poem would become etched on the foundation of Lady Liberty and represent America’s policy of immigration. She writes:
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me..."
It’s funny how life plays out. How events we can rarely foresee, even if we thought about them, come about. What circumstances lead the ancestors of Asher Levy to Holland? What chain of events occurred that took him and other Jews across the Atlantic to Recife, Brazil where they fought with the Dutch for the territory of Northern Brazil?
Sometimes, in retrospect, it seems as though a divine hand has lead a people or an individual to their destiny. I like to think that it might just be our individual determination or lack of it that makes or breaks our destiny. I like to think that we are piece of the whole, playing an integral part in some grand play and that how we act and speak moves the play of life forward in harmony or chaos. We leave an indelible mark on the landscape of time.
I’ve heard it said that surviving terrible events and overcoming great trials gives us the wherewithal to help others survive. Along these lines, I like to think that these survivors become like watch towers, wise prophets who can read the signs, understand the intent of what is said and done, and guide us in the right direction. It’s like standing in between the storm and the sky’s great calm–they’ve lived through the storm and know the peace and refuge of the great calm.
In this light, Asher Levy seemed destined for America; destined to be a key element in American Jewish History. For he played an integral part in allowing the Jews to receive a fair chance in America; to live like the next man, with the same opportunities.
In 1654, when the Portuguese would recapture the territory of northern Brazil, Portugal would grant 23 Jews permission to leave Recife, Brazil to go to New Amsterdam. Asher Levy was one of them. Their journey by ship would not be without peril. In the seas around the West Indes, their ship was attacked by pirates. They lost all of their belongings. They landed in New Amsterdam in September of 1654, penniless.
The governor, Peter Stuyvesant, did not want them in his province. However, he had to give them refuge because they fought for Holland and the Dutch West India Company had many Jewish shareholders. The following stipulation was provided–that "the poor among them shall not become a burden to the company or to the community, but be supported by their own nation."
When the governor would not allow them to serve with the military, to care for the safety of their people, nor grant them the right to obtain property, Asher Levy challenged him and won.
The heritage of liberty stemming from Levy’s insistence upon basic rights and respect is immeasurable. But if it is logical that from a small seed an oak may grow, it is likewise illogical to think small about Asher Levy’s resilient spirit.
Sources:
National Museum of American Jewish History
Please visit The Head Heab blog to read other articles commemorating Arrival Day.
