Rosh Chodesh Av Drash
by Megan Moore
I would like to preface by honoring two people today. First, let me thank Alice Lachman, who went to great lengths to give me resources for the themes of the month of Av. Second, I would like to acknowledge and honor the brother of Margie Walkover, Andy Walkover, who helped make the US law that protects minors from receiving the penalty now reserved only for adult offenders. This week is his yahrtzeit.
When I was first reading these two parshiyot, my eyes started to glaze over. It felt so plodding and monotonous that I could hardly focus. Perhaps that was the point. Losing Aaron, the High Priest, seems to have sucked all the drama out of the Israelites. Their burdens weigh so heavily, all they can do is robotically shuffle forward. Rosh Chodesh always takes place on a new moon, not a full one. This new beginning happens when the night is darkest. We cannot see our path ahead. The month of Tammuz, which we are now exiting, is associated with the sense of sight. Now, we are now entering the month of Av, which is associated with the ears and hearing. It is a the time to ask ourselves if we are actually listening clearly. What have we been deaf to?
I know it is unorthodox, but I want to read aloud a timeless American picture book, which most of you will recognize. Perhaps some of you think children’s books are just for children– at least until you actually sit and read one as an adult. Please humor me.
BOOK: Horton Hears a Who by Dr. Seuss. I had originally omitted this next part of my drash, but I had a conversation at services last night that made me feel compared to share.
Sometimes, it takes the right person with the right platform to make a change in the world, like Dr. Seuss. Other times, it is just one extra voice saying a single word: Yah! Why? We say to ourselves: Why me? Why us? Why again? When we are weary, feeling small, we cannot remain in a mindset of defeat. If we believe progress is impossible, that defeat is inevitable, then we are trapped in our own echo chamber of victimhood. We as a people have a reputation for kvetching and wailing. Why us, every generation!, we always cry out. Have we stopped to listen to G-d’s reply?
This picture book might sound familiar to your own family history, or perhaps how you feel right now. Sometimes it feels like we are screaming out and no one hears us. It seems absolutely futile at times. Like we don’t even matter. Dr. Seuss wrote this book as a criticism of the US government’s treatment of the Japanese and Japanese Americans during and after World War II. He was raised to hate Japanese people, and had learned that he was wrong. The nationwide criticism of Dr. Seuss for being racist and antisemitic in 2021 largely ignored his ability to change his worldview and help others do the same, even in his old age. In the darkness of a new moon, we cannot see the way ahead. In the uncertainty of a new beginning, there is infinite possibility. This month of Av, I pray HaShem opens our ears, that we listen with compassion, and we are no longer deaf to the things we ourselves need to hear. We grow together, on this little speck of dust. We are here! We are here! We are here! Let us not become accustomed to the doldrums of despair. Chodesh tov, kākou, and Shabbat shalom.
