Bitter and sweet of Hurricane Irma become clear on Rosh Hashana

Last night marked the first day of the Jewish New Year, when Jews of diverse backgrounds and affiliations welcomed Rosh Hashana in some form or another. For some, it was attending services. For others maybe just a symbolic munch on apples dipped in honey. And others, well, others may not celebrate at all.

Yet, no matter how, or if, you wish to commemorate this auspicious date, there is one thing we have all recently experienced together, and that is Hurricane Irma.

The term hurricane is often used flippantly in life, in circumstances where one may want to refer to a big mess, as in “Your bedroom looks like a hurricane came through it!” or “I am so tired, I feel like I was hit by a hurricane!”

Today, a little more than a week beyond the real storm, the use of the word hurricane as an adverb or adjective is all too real for us. However, as I sat on the Eve of Rosh Hashana and reflected on the past week, I can truly say that the chaos and mess that this hurricane wreaked on South Florida also brought with it a new and beautiful silver lining.

On Rosh Hashana we celebrate the birthday of the world and of the first man and woman. We also spend time in meditation and prayer, repenting for all our sins and beseeching God to grant us life, health and happiness. We promise to do good; be nice to our friends and neighbors. Many tears are shed as we take stock of all our deeds — and maybe some misdeeds — and turn to our Heavenly Father, begging, pleading, and often questioning, “Why?” or “Why me?” Don’t we all seem to have a life that feels like a hurricane?

Hurricane Irma was pre-Rosh Hashana practice. We took stock of our valuables. We made sure to protect precious items and vital records. We counted our family members and assured their safe lodging and shelter. We looked around our homes and offices and asked, “What is truly important?” “What do I care if I lose in this hurricane?” “What is most valuable to me if all is destroyed?”

We checked on our friends and families. We called loved ones overseas and close by. Maybe we even became friends with the neighbor we never spoke to, as we helped to put up his hurricane shutters.

During the storm, when the heavens shook with tornadoes and 100 mph winds, I shed a tear for the strength and power of the Almighty. I humbly requested that me, my children, my family and all of the community be spared from all harm. I quietly asked for forgiveness for my sins and bartered with God for tranquility, peace — and electricity.

When it was all over, perhaps we reflected on our own behavior as we saw others suffering, and thousands without power and lights. Maybe we felt the most amazing, powerful sense of community, unity and selflessness, and we reached out. We shared. We helped. We forgot about ourselves and we gave to others. Open homes, open kitchens, generators, power, hot coffee and some hugs.

We don’t know why the hand of God chooses to strike us with hurricanes and earthquakes. We don’t know why there is so much pain and suffering in the world. But I do know one thing — when we are corralled, or maybe forced into doing random acts of goodness and kindness, we have surely filled the world with love and happiness. We have surely celebrated Rosh Hashana is its own unique way.

We shared. We helped. We forgot about ourselves and we gave to others. Open homes, open kitchens, generators, power, hot coffee and some hugs.

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