Earth Etude for Elul 13

Uncovering the Moon: The Compass of Compassion ​

by Rabbi Margie Jacobs

What “covers over” your ability to access compassion?
What might it mean for compassion to be a compass for you?

Growing up, I was taught that our prayers on the High Holidays were an effort to move God, who sits on a throne of judgment on Rosh Hashanah writing our fate in the Book of Life, to a seat of compassion by the end of Yom Kippur. 

But the Zohar, the 13th-century book of Kabbalah, offers us a different image. While Psalms 81:4 is often translated as “Blow the shofar on the new moon, on the full moon (b’keseh) of our festival day,” the Zohar instead understands “b’keseh” to mean “on the covering of our festival day.” The Zohar takes this to mean that the moon, which is the symbol of the nurturing, compassionate feminine Divine presence, is covered over, or hidden, on Rosh Hashanah, the day of the new moon of the Hebrew month of Tishrei. 
What’s covering the moon? All the things that tend to separate us and cover over our own hearts – judgment, fear and anger. 

According to the Zohar, we blow the shofar “In order to break that covering, by which the moon is covered and can’t shine.” (Zohar 2:184a)
In the mystical imagination, the sound of the shofar is the voice of compassion. When that sound reaches the heavens, there is a divine, supernal shofar that emits the sound of compassion in response. “[Our] sound meets [divine] sound. [Our] Compassion [meets] divine Compassion.“ (Zohar 2:184b)

In blowing the shofar, we awaken our compassion. We break, or perhaps make more permeable, the covering around our own hearts that separates us from others. In response, the mystics imagine, a divine supernal shofar is sounded. As we move from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur, we look up to the night sky, seeing Divine compassion become more visible, more accessible to us each night as the moon’s covering recedes and she comes into her full presence. In the Zoharic imagination, we are actively inviting the moon to shine by letting our own compassionate heart shine through the judgment and fear that might surround it. In the narrative of my childhood, we move ourselves from the seat of judgment on Yom Hadin, Rosh Hashanah, to the seat of compassion as our hearts break open on Yom Kippur. And God follows our lead. 

Rabbi Margie Jacobs is a Reconstructionist rabbi who works with individuals as a Spiritual Coach, bringing the perspectives of mindfulness, creativity, and Jewish spirituality to explore what is emerging within each of us. She works with groups as a facilitator of the Jewish Studio Process (JSP), bringing together Jewish text study, mindfulness meditation, a facilitated art experience, and reflective writing. She has brought creative practice and Torah to emerging Jewish professionals as a Reconstructionist Rabbinical College instructor and is on faculty at the Academy of Jewish Religion-CA. Margie leads meditation and teaches Jewish mystical texts virtually across the country. She is also a website designer and is on staff at the Mordecai Kaplan Center for Jewish Peoplehood.
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*Zohar text: “Once Compassion has been aroused below, so too above; another, supernal shofar is aroused, emitting a sound that is Compassion, and sound meets sound. Compassion meets Compassion.”