October 14, 2014 20 Tishrei 5775 Moadim LSimcha Blog Susann, in my name, called Victor and postponed his ministrations until tomorrow. I want the hour today. It rained last night, heavily enough to be called the “yoreh,” the first rain of winter, of rainy season. If it were not a shmitta year when God forbids working the soil, I would be thinking about spring flowering annuals like sweet peas. I might find a way around the ban (is it really intended to prevent the growth of ornamentals, flowers to be cut for the Sabbath table?) but there is a satisfaction in observing it, in respecting the wish of the Beloved – particularly because no one is harmed in any way. The Ultra-Orthodox also want to obey Divine command but their motivations seem very different from mine. I do not think God would punish me for planting seeds now. He commands me not to, but has no enforcement powers. By not planting, I imagine that I avoid a Divine frown. I really do not care if the neighbors think of me as Orthodox or not. For the Ultra-Orthodox and many of the plain or even modern Orthodox, the situation may be different. Fear of Divine displeasure together with the attribution of powers to God that He may use to punish will prevent planting. For the considerable percentage of such folks that does not think about God, fear of social disapprobation will keep the seeds in their packet. These people will tend towards very public displays of how carefully they observe shmitta. Very few and no one I know observes shmittat ksafim, the requirement that all loans be canceled, all debts marked paid. This would result in a revolution in values that, based on Divine command rather than by economic, Marxist analysis would extend the love of God symbolized by my unused packet of sweet pea seeds to a love of our fellows under the influence of our love of God. Great efforts have gone into finding ways around this particular Divine commandment. But we are very good and exact about not eating shrimp. When it rains (the sky is cloudy now, thoroughly but lightly so. A pale gray is nearly universal but there is blue behind the gray, so the sky may brighten or grow dark. The heavy overnight rains have stopped) the pigeons cluster under the eaves. On my windowsill, an egg sits exposed to wind and water and I hope the mother pigeon knew what she was doing when she deposited it where she did. But pigeons do not really know things; that would require a consciousness that seems unlikely. Ziggy stirs at the foot of the bed. He is conscious of himself as “Ziggy” because we have taught him to be. No dog names itself or any other dog. Ive read that horses cannot be taught to recognize the names people have assigned them. Ziggy also recognizes himself as “dog.” I remain depressed about the trip next Sunday to Beer Sheva. I can get a doctors excuse and not go, but then my lawyer would have to be there not in addition to me but instead of me. So Ill be there, at best in a wheelchair at worst on a stretcher. I ought, in either case, be able to speak for myself. I really hate this aspect of my life, but perhaps it is coming to an end. I no longer think in terms of good end or bad end; ending is itself, in this matter, a great good.
Posted on: Tue, 14 Oct 2014 08:10:49 +0000
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