At the summer solstice (here in the north half of the world), the sun is at its greatest distance from the equator, and the northern hemisphere of the earth is tilted toward the sun’s light. While we’re being bathed in this light, the Talmud says, we have no shadow. It’s almost a moment of merging with the sun’s rays. Some cultures believe (as the Celts did) that the sun begins to die on this day. For others (the Slavic peoples) this is the height of the sun’s power. Either way, the solstice lasts only a moment. It’s up to us to soak up the sun in whatever spiritual or (safe) physical way we can. The Bible speaks of the sun as a sign of redemption: “A sun of righteousness with healing in her wings” (Malachi 3:20). The sun is also described as a “bridegroom bursting forth from his chamber” (Psalms 19:6). In fact, shemesh (sun in Hebrew) is one of those rare words that comes in both genders (like ruach, spirit). It is as if the sun is too powerful to be held down by one image. The sun is a joyful as a bridegroom and as healing as a mother bird settling on her nest. The sun is ubiquitous in our sky, yet we can’t look directly at the sun. There’s some way the sun embodies the mystery of life. Rabbi Chanina, a Talmudic sage, tells us that one day God’s throne will appear in the sky, and “will move from the place where the sun shines in summer to the place where it shines in winter,” just as the sun does while the seasons pass. In this story, the sun is an image of the throne of the Divine. Rabbi Chanina offers the following prooftext from the Bible: “The Eternal is a sun and a shield, and bestows grace and glory.” In another Talmudic parable, a Roman emperor asks the rabbi how the Divine can be in many places at once. The rabbi uses the sun as an example, asking how the sun can shine on so many places at once. Here, the vast warmth of the sun becomes a metaphor for the all-encompassing infinity of spirit. In fact, a midrash (Genesis Rabbah 6:6) warns that the sun’s rays are so bright they could burn up the world, so God has to plunge it into a pool of water every dawn to temper it. The sun goes to mikvah (the ritual bath) every morning before coming to warm us! In fact, in many countries (Argentina, Latvia) there is the custom of immersing in water on the morning of the solstice, and this would not be a bad custom for Jews to adopt as well, in honor of the sun’s daily mikvah. The warmth of the sun also distills itself into plants that can feed and heal us. Recently, I attended one day of the Teva Seminar, a four-day conference on Judaism and the environment (see tevacenter.org). I learned how to make herbal tinctures, studied texts on genetic manipulation of species and eco-kabbalah, learned about Jewish environmental projects and camps, and watched folks harvest mint and lavender from the spiral herb garden. The bright sun reminded me of how much it is a resource for us through plant life, solar power, light to see by, and so many other gifts. The sun can be dangerous: don’t stay out in the heat too long, expose your skin to the sun’s rays without sunscreen, or gaze directly at the sun. However, it is the hearthfire of our planet and our species, making life on earth possible. So, whether we see it as a manifestation of divine energy or as a fireball that allows us to go on existing, let’s honor the sun at this special time of the year, as the miraculous phenomenon it is.
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 12:01:59 +0000
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