Jews! Yidden!
What if Pesach came on Rosh HaShanah,
and we had to clean out our chumatz,
do t’shuvah, and eat matzah, all at the same time?
What if Purim ever fell on Shabbos,
and we were commanded to drink so much Kiddush wine
that we forgot the distinction between friend and enemy,
then had to get up early and daven Shacharit, read Torah,
drink lots more, and then remember the difference
between day and night, the seventh day and the other six days,
Jews and other people, the sacred and the profane —
it would be hard! — not to mention sacrilegious
to invade the Shabbos with revelry and role reversals.
Suppose Tisha b’Av came on Tu b’Sh’vat,
and we had to plant a tree while weeping,
inaugurate new life in the midst of sadness —
why, it might make us…ambivalent —
and aren’t we Jews divided enough as it is?
Suppose Chanukah came on Tu b’Av,
and we bid goodbye to the longest nights
while feeling the drafts of the looming Autumn…
we’d be so twisted backwards and forwards we’d fall over
and forget to stop dancing to light candles;
we’d look for our soul-mates in a spinning dreidl!
So how many are the good things the Almighty has done for us…
He gives us Pesach in Springtime
and Rosh HaShanah in the declining balance time of the year;
Purim at the end of Winter and Shabbos every week;
Tisha b’Av at the height of Summer
and Tu b’Sh’vat when the almonds blossom in Berkeley and Yerushalayim;
Chanukah in the midst of Winter
but Tu b’Av in the soft glow of Summer.
To everything there is a season
and a time for every purpose under Heaven.
