High Holydays 1993 - 5754
Congregation Betenu, Nashua, NH
In life we learn that no two days are ever quite the same. They may have similar patterns to them, but there are dif-ferences. The similarities make it bearable. The differences make it interesting. The same is true on the slopes. The view is different every day, even if one chooses to stand in precisely the same place. The distance one can see varies based on the variety of clouds, the smog in the air, the way the wind is blowing or a thousand different things.
In life, the things one sees or experiences are often depend-ent both on short term history and long term history. That's probably the reason why our education system puts so much stock in teaching history. The same history lesson is needed on the mountains. The long term history determines the actual geological shapes we see; the outcroppings due to earthquake or volcanic activity. Water flow and wind determine the erosion patterns. In the medium term, what was planted or whatever seeded itself, dictates the collection of flora and fauna that can be observed.
The very short term history is seen both as a result of what man has done as well as what the weather has done. For skiers, a mountainside of trails is an enhancement of a mountain's beauty. For non-skiers, the same view may be perceived as ugly scars on an otherwise pristine beautiful scene. From this we learn that people can experience the same data and arrive at different conclusions. It is no more fair for the skier to demand that every mountain be turned into a ski area, that it is others to suggest the banning of all new mountainside development. The theme we can learn from this is tolerance. Just because someone doesn't agree with us doesn't mean that one of us has to be wrong.
The short term history can also remind of the Jewish theme bal tash-chit do not destroy. This applies on many levels. One, we share the mountain with a variety of other animals. On any given day, we can expect to see chipmunks, rabbits, squirrels, raccoons, porcupines and countless birds. In Genesis, we are told that we have stewardship of the earth. In that role, we should remember, that we must not destroy their habitat. Next, in developing a mountain, there are pretty ways and ugly ways to make trails. I've written more than one letter to ski area managers suggesting that the collection of bulldozed and uprooted trees did not enhance the beauty of their mountain. Occasionally, someone responds.
Next is the issue of litter. Nothing is quite so ugly as a mountain side covered with empty soda and beer cans and hopefully, nothing more needs to be said about that. However, do not take for granted that our children know that littering is a bad thing. I have been sworn at more than once when I have suggested to teenagers that they should pick up after their messes.
Lastly on the issue of short term history is the weather. After an ice storm, occasionally there will be a sunny day. The entire mountain glistens like a crystal chandelier. After snow storms, the trees have a softness to them with their mantle of whiteness. After a windy day, the snow drifts into all sorts of beautiful shapes. There is even a blessing for seeing this level of beauty:
Ba-ruch a-ta A-do-nai, E-lo-hei-nu me-lech ha-o-lam, she-choch-ma-to ma-lei le-o-lam, Praised be the Eternal, who has placed the likes of these wonders in God's world.
The concept of Torah can be learned from skiing. Torah represents a set of rules to help us share the world with other people, other life forms and other things. Similarly, there are rules for sharing the mountain with other people. We learn to wait our turn. We learn to ski in control so we don't hurt other people. We learn to stop in places where we won't block other people's progress or create a hazard. On the infrequent occasion when someone is hurt, the concept of ge-mi-lut cha-sa-dim, acts of kindness takes over. This may include stopping to pick up something dropped up hill; contacting a patroller; helping a child get his or her skis back on and so forth.
We must adjust our lives based on both the quantity of people on the slopes, the condition of the slope and the skill level we bring to the slope.
On a purely personal level, there is a recognition of finitude. Each run, each day, each season. As we get older, the knees won't take the pounding, the last run comes a little earlier in the day, eventually, one may have to be satisfied to being an observer as opposed to a participant.
One of the reasons why skiers keep coming back, and the same is true for golfers and tennis players, is there is a sense of improving. I've talked to people who were 12 handicap golfers for 20 years and yet each year they com-ment how their game has improved. If improvement really occurred, how come you're not a 10 handicap? Yet that very sense of growth and improvement is what each of us strives for within the context of Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur. We strive to be better in the next year. In some ways we succeed, but in other ways, we basically remain the same!
There is a certain aspect of life that requires control of the unpredictable. While the super bowl is one of the most highly rated television programs, you'll note that it is never shown as a rerun. The beauty and the interest derive from the unpredictability. No want wants the football players to get hurt, maimed or even killed -- but it does happen and it is considered to be an acceptable risk. Returning to the mountain, it provides us no comfort that the odds of dying while skiing are better than one's odds of winning megabucks! However, we accept risks in our lives every day. Sure, we make efforts to minimize the risks: we prepare our food in a way to minimize the risk of poison, we eat in a way to minimize the possibility of heart attacks, we wear seat belts, we look both ways before crossing a street. Still, everyone of us takes a risk with every thing we do!!
We learn to minimize our risk by taking proper care of our equipment, by learning appropriate technique and by learning the rules of the road. When skiing, there is a sense of connectedness with the earth that one can feel as the edges contact the snow; as the different textures of snow and the variations in pitch make us respond. There is a nice sensation to flying but there is a wonderful sense of safety when we reestablish contact with the ground! There is the overwhelming power of temporary conquest when we do something very well or when someone yells compliments from the chairlift above. There is the feeling of fragility when the wind roars, when our skin hurts from the 30 below zero degree wind chill factor. There is a feeling of helplessness when we plan a trip for weeks and get there and discover that it is pouring buckets.
Each mountain has its differences: Camden Snow Bowl overlooks the Atlantic Ocean, from Mt. St. Anne there is a spectacular view of the St. Lawrence River in all it winter splendor and nothing compare with the view from Wildcat looking back at Tuckerman Ravine. The scenery is poetry and for that too there is a blessing:
Ba-ruch a-ta A-do-nai, E-lo-hei-nu me-lech ha-o-lam, o-seh ma-a-sei ve-rei-sheet, Praised be the Eternal, who created the universe.
God gave us all this and more. Life is a combination of responsibilities and pleasures. Never underestimate the importance of the pleasures in relating to the responsibilities.
All I Need to Know About Life, I Learn and relearn on the Ski Slopes. Would that everyone could find the sense of shalom, and wholeness in the pleasures of their lives. It makes the responsibilities much easier to bear. Amen.
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