Spring Brings Hints of Gladness
“On the seventh day God finished the work that God had been doing.” (Genesis 2)
What work was left to be done on this day? What finishing touches did the world require? the rabbis ask. Again, they answer their own question. God created menucha—rest. This teaches us that rest is a divine gift.
In the rabbinic imagination, we are not talking about sleeping or even a taking a nap, but rather rest that restores the soul. The prayerbook attests to this idea and teaches that Shabbat menucha is different than ordinary rest. In addition to its holiness, menucha is described in its pages as a “rest reflecting Your lavish love and true faithfulness, in peace and tranquility, contentment and quietude—a perfect rest in which You delight.”
How can we discover a rest that offers us peace and tranquility, contentment and quietude? It seems almost impossible.
Then again, now that Spring has bloomed, it may be as easy as venturing outside, going for walk and breathing in nature’s beauty. Tell your children to put their phones down, grab their hands and go for a walk. Teach them not to look at screens but at the flowers and trees, birds and even the bugs crawling on the leaves. Teach them to say with you, “Look at how wonderful the world is!”
The Torah concurs. So important is rest that even the land requires it. “When you enter the land that I assign to you, the land shall observe a sabbath of the Lord.” (Leviticus 25). And while our tradition views the sabbatical year as applying only to the land of Israel (may it soon know peace!), I am beginning to think that it should apply beyond these borders. If rest is a divine gift, then all of God’s creations should enjoy it.
And thus, when I marvel at the landscaping surrounding my home and the beautiful trees now unfurling their leaves (as well coughing up their allergy inducing pollen), I find myself correcting my thoughts. I used to say, “Look at my trees.” Now I say instead, “Look at God’s trees.”
The poet Mary Oliver exclaims:
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
And I imagine the trees taking in a breath and filling their veins with Shabbat menucha. I watch as they restore the earth—and refresh my soul.
Abraham Joshua Heschel writes: “There are three ways in which we may relate ourselves to the world—we may exploit it, we may enjoy it, and we may accept it in awe.”
Indeed, I am awed. Look at the beauty, and marvels, and wonders God has created. I behold hints of gladness in the air.