Rabbi Widzer's Library

There’s a cartoon that circulates on social media periodically these days.  Two people are walking on the street and one says, “My desire to be well-informed is currently at odds with my desire to remain sane.”¹  Doesn’t it feel that way sometimes?  Hasn’t it felt that way for a while?  In an interview on NPR a few years ago, the cartoonist who drew that piece, David Sipress, explained that he originally developed it back during the ‘90s,² though it feels pretty timely for us today.  There is so much going on in our world that dealing with everything can feel overwhelming.  One rabbi I know refers to this as “chronic crisis,” a state of being when everything seems to be happening all at once in so many aspects of life in a never-ending stream of events that it is nearly impossible to get a handle on anything.  I definitely have been wrestling with this.  Have you been struggling with this, too?

As will surprise none of you, I tend to think about these things in terms of Jewish values and Jewish texts.  I know that there are Jewish teachings that guide my response to any one particular issue, for example, to antisemitism.  Or Jewish values that shape how I respond to gun violence.  Or Jewish texts that inform my thoughts about immigration.  The bigger question I have been pondering is, how do we live our Jewish values when there is so much to deal with?  How do we react in keeping with Jewish teachings when everything seems troubled?  What is the Jewish way of responding to chronic crisis?

Over the summer, I was reminded of a text that has helped me frame my possible modes of response.  Around 1917, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook wrote an essay called Shir Ha-M’ruba, “The Fourfold Song.”³ At the time, the Great War was raging in Europe and around the world as empires competed, shifted, and fell.  The United States had entered the fighting, presuming this to be the “war to end all wars.”  Nationalist movements and political ideologies were fighting for attention and territory.  Russia was engulfed by revolution.  The 1918 flu pandemic was gestating.  It was a pretty tumultuous time.  I suspect it felt it may have felt to Rav Kook, as he was called, like the world was on fire.

In Shir Ha-M’ruba, “The Fourfold Song,” drawing on a mystical tradition,⁴ Rav Kook proposes four types of “songs” that people might sing, four different ways or modes of interacting with the world:  the song of the self, the song of the nation, the song of humanity, and the song of the universe.  He develops each of them into a way of orienting oneself in a tumultuous world.  They form, in a sense, concentric circles of care, widening outward.  And I believe this can provide a framework for us for how we respond to the feeling of chronic crisis in our world.

And let us be clear: we are in a period of chronic crisis as troubling as 1917, or worse, in so many ways.  There is no shortage of troubling topics that disturb us in wave after relentless wave, flooding our ability to process, overwhelming our capacity to understand, inhibiting our  desire to respond, depleting our compassion and empathy.  And so many of them are rooted in anger or hatred or cruelty.  There is such fear of people who are “other” than us, coursing through America’s bloodstream, that it shapes and taints so much of public discourse and society.

Antisemitism continues to surge to alarming levels that would have been unimaginable even a decade ago.  In 2024, the ADL tabulated 9345 antisemitic incidents in the United States, an increase of 5% from the year before and a 893% increase over the past 10 years.⁵ Antisemitism comes from the political right and the political left and is felt on college campuses, in high schools and elementary schools, in county board meetings and office workplaces, and, most particularly, in the morass of social media.  And there is more …

Anti-immigrant sentiment plays out in many of those places, too.  The excesses of ICE raids, overly forceful, masked, and sudden, conducted without due process or basic decency, have had a chilling effect on communities of color in American society.  Legal immigrants and US citizens are being caught up in deportations of the undocumented, as the safeguards of the rule of law seem to be suspended for segments of our population.  Folks are afraid to seek medical care or police protection, or work or go to school or even to leave the house.  And there is

more …

Fear and hatred of others also drive the animus against the LGBTQ+ community.  When the government mandates recognition of only male and female identities as assigned at birth, they define out of existence the expanse of gender diversity that encompasses so many Americans.  Most relentless has been the assault on lifesaving gender-affirming health care for trans kids, who are seeking only the opportunity to live their lives as themselves.  Opponents of the settled matter of marriage equality are even trying to move backwards at the Supreme Court this term.  And there is more …

Our government itself is sometimes the source of agony, angst, and anger.  Hard-working federal employees have been fired, often capriciously, with little explanation or cause. The questionable use of the military on American soil threatens to undermine its historical apolitical nature.  Selective prosecutions and pardons, based on being in or out of favor, give the impression that justice is no longer equitable (such as it ever was), but now is personal and partisan.  Power is taken from, or ceded by, the legislative and judicial branches to an executive branch that seems unbound by precedent or long-established norms of behavior.  The creeping specter of authoritarianism, in action and appearance if not in name, grows more and more threatening as there is less and less respect for the rule of law.

And there is more.  Hunger, homelessness, the ever-growing gap between the ultra-wealthy and the rest of society, climate change, gun violence, drug deaths, political machinations and the curtailing of the right to vote, and more … It all feels overwhelming.  Every day brings new troubling developments, not just on one issue, but several at a time.  It is impossible to respond to all of it.  It can feel like there is nothings we can do about any of it.  We may feel helpless, overwhelmed, resigned, unable to process or understand or react or care.  This is chronic crisis. 

This is where Rav Kook’s songs come to help us find ways of responding to everything going on.  The first is Shirat Nafsho, the “Song of the Self.”  When everything feels overwhelming, an initial reaction might be to just take care of oneself.  It is ok to turn off the news, to stop scrolling, to completely unplug from the swirling mass of concerns.  Sometimes when everything seems too much, we need to just stop paying attention to anything.  We can take a break and look after our own personal needs.  Take a walk.  Read a book.  Call a friend.  Binge a show.  Write poetry.  Bake.  Play with a pet or a child.  Treat yourself to something that’s of comfort. The National Institute of Mental Health explains, “Self-care means taking the time to do things that help you live well and improve both your physical health and mental health.”  Their recommendations include getting regular exercise, eating healthy, regular meals, making sleep a priority, exploring relaxation activities, and staying connected to family and friends. ⁶ Rav Kook explains that the one who sings the Song of the Soul finds everything, their complete spiritual satisfaction, within themselves.  One way we deal with chronic crisis is by taking care of ourselves.

The second song Rav Kook describes is Shirat Ha-Uma, the “Song of the Nation.”  For Kook, this meant the Jewish people, Am Yisrael.  Of those who sing this song, he writes, “With gentle love they cleave to the soul of the entire Jewish people.  They sing her songs, feel her pains, and rejoice in her hopes.  They contemplate her past and anticipate her future.”⁷ When everything feels overwhelming, instead of, or in addition to, self-care, sometimes we respond by looking to our immediate community, our Jewish community, our TBS community.  The psychologist Shelley Taylor has proposed a response to stress called “Tend and Befriend.”  When things get to be “too much,” we tend to ourselves and the people we care about, and we befriend others to create a social network to aid in the process, forming larger relationships and social groups.⁸  We make connections with others in order to deal with stressful situations.

This song, Shirat Ha-Umah, resonates loud and clear at Temple B’nai Shalom.  If your response to chronic crisis is to “tend and befriend,” there is no better place than right here.  In fact, “making connections” is kind of our theme this year.  It is embedded in our DNA as a congregation from our earliest days – thank you, Rabbi Perlin and our founding families!  It was readily apparent to me from the moment I first arrived to interview here and met so incredibly many of you in such an incredibly short amount of time.  This sense of connection sustained us through the difficulties of the COVID years and continues to be a hallmark of our congregation. Whether it’s joining the Brotherhood bowling league (the wintertime counterpart to our highly successful softball team!), attending Sisterhood’s monthly Rosh Chodesh gathering, dropping your kids off with our teens for babysitting for a Parents’ Night Out, catching a show with friends from the Not Ready for Prime Timers, joining in a potluck dinner and Havdalah with the Interfaith Couple’s Club, playing laser tag with BeaSTY or bowling with Junior BeaSTY, learning about Mah Jongg or Parshanut or Judaism and AI through our LIFE adult ed classes, or even just coming to Shabbat services, there are so many different ways to connect with your TBS community.  (And my apologies to those additional committees and groups I didn’t name!)   All of these activities offer a respite from the overwhelmedness of the rest of the world.

To deepen our connection to one another and to TBS, we will be conducting a congregational census this year.  We want to get to know, not only who is here, but who you are.  What are your hobbies, your passions, your occupations, your hidden talents?  What do you like to do, that you might do with other Temple members if only you knew they liked doing it, too?  Who has skills or networks that could benefit others or our community as a whole?  We’ll need about 30-40 census takers to help this project, so please let us know if you are interested in helping. 

We’ll also be rolling out a new Congregational Brit, a Code of Ethics, outlining our responsibilities to one another, how we treat each other, how we uphold our TBS values.  Watch for details later this fall.  We already approved in the spring a new way of “Living and Giving our Values,” restructuring our philanthropy funds to align with our congregational values, including our Rabbi Amy and Gary Perlin Endowment and other legacy funds.  And we are always counting on you, yes, I mean YOU, to volunteer every once in a while to help out at a program or two.  All of these are additional ways to connect to our community, to sing the Shirat Ha-Uma.

One last point about connecting with our community, a challenge to you.  I feel confident in saying that right now, in this Sanctuary and watching online, are 4 people you do not know.  I don’t know who they are, and neither do you, right now.  My challenge to you is, next year when we gather for Rosh HaShanah, you will know 4 more people, 4 more members of the TBS community, 4 more people you will stop and say hi to and chat with, because you will have, over the course of this year, built connections with them.  DON’T DO THIS NOW – we still have a sermon to finish and many more prayers to pray today.  But make this a goal this year – you will make a connection with 4 more people at TBS.  This focus on community and connection is another mode of responding to the chronic crisis of our times.

The third of Rav Kook’s Fourfold Song is Shirat Ha-Adam, the “Song of Humanity.”  This is for the person whose “spirit advances and encompasses the majesty of humanity, the splendorous dignity of its divine image.  This person is drawn to common destiny and yearns for humanity’s sublime self-actualization.”⁹  Beyond self-care and connection to community, we can respond to the chronic crisis through our embrace of the broader world and our mission to improve it.  Through hands-on social action projects and larger social justice efforts, we respond to the massive flow of everything by focusing on something, one thing, anything where we feel we can make a difference.  We find partners, neighbors, fellow human beings, who are also yearning for connection.  After hosting an Iftar dinner for our friends at the American Turkish Friendship Association in the spring, we have been invited for a pre-Thanksgiving meal with them on November 20.  And it is our turn to host our family from Abiding Presence for our annual joint Thanksgiving Eve service on November 26. Both offer opportunities to share fellowship as an antidote to feeling overwhelmed.

We can also sing Shirat Ha-Adam, the “Song of Humanity,” by heeding the words of Isaiah we heard this morning,¹⁰ and working to break the bonds of injustice and seek freedom and dignity for everyone.  As Isaiah was, we are called upon to be engaged in the great issues of our day, and we fight back against the onslaught of everything all at once by picking a place where we can do something.  We bring to life our fingerprint mosaic values of chesed, of kavod, of tikkun olam, by finding some way, no matter how small or large, to work for the good of society.  Earlier this year, we distributed a TBS Social Action Survey, asking you to name the issues you cared most about, the ones you would be willing to learn about and act upon.  From the survey results, over the summer our Tzedek Committee selected three key areas for this coming year: hunger, gun violence prevention, and immigration.  Watch for opportunities for education and action in these areas, a chance to do something concrete.  This is in addition to our ongoing non-partisan efforts to encourage and safeguard the right to vote, particularly in the upcoming Virginia elections, and our ongoing relationship with Lorton Community Action Center, the recipient of our High Holy Day food drive.  All of these are possible ways to respond to the chronic crisis by engaging with our values to improve our world as a whole.

The final song from Rav Kook’s writing is Shirat Ha’Olam, the “Song of the Universe,” the unity beyond time and space, the daily miracle of the creation of the world. Here the four songs ultimately blend together, Rav Kook teaches, becoming Shirat Kodesh, Shirat El, the song of holiness, the song of God.  I’m reminded of the teaching of the 19^th century sage, Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav, who said, “A person reaches in three directions: inward to oneself, out to others, up to God.  The miracle of life is that in truly reaching in any direction, one embraces all three.”  Here perhaps is the ultimate lesson for dealing with chronic crisis.  Any one response can lead to any other.  All of them are paths forward for us to take.

There is a lot going on in our world these days.  It is easy to be overwhelmed, paralyzed, or uncertain of how to react.  And while Judaism may have insights for responding to any one particular issue or item, there are also ways of putting a Jewish lens on how we respond to the whole.  We can sing Shirat Nafso and take the time to focus on ourselves and our own self-care.  We can sing Shirat Ha-Uma and seek strength through connections with our community, tending to and befriending one another.  We can sing Shirat Ha-Adam and work to improve one small corner of the world, making a difference for humanity as a whole.  And, ultimately, we sing Shirat Ha-Olam, responding with the spiritual connection between them all.

The Fourfold Song charts for us paths to approach the chronic crisis of our times and respond in ways that are authentic to each one of us.  It won’t be the same for everyone.  And, from day to day, moment to moment, situation to situation, topic to topic, we won’t, ourselves, always take the same approach.  But we know Judaism gives us the tools, the texts, the values, to live in this world and to take care of ourselves, one another, and the world around us.

May we confront chronic crisis strengthened by the songs we sing.

May we join them in glorious harmony to reach a world of shalom, a world of wholeness and peace.

May you be signed and sealed for a good new year ahead.

And let us say, Amen.

¹ See https://www.instagram.com/p/CbA31j1Pd-V/
² https://www.npr.org/2022/03/07/1084884010/it-took-this-new-yorker-cartoonist-25-years-to-achieve-his-childhood-dream
³ For the Hebrew text and English translation of the full essay, see https://www.hartman.org.il/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/TEXTing-IRL-Ep-5-Source-Sheet-1.pdf
⁴ See https://ravkooktorah.org/SHIR64.htm
⁵ https://www.adl.org/resources/report/audit-antisemitic-incidents-2024
⁶ https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/caring-for-your-mental-health
⁷ See https://ravkooktorah.org/SHIR64.htm
⁸ See https://taylorlab.psych.ucla.edu/wp-content/uploads/sites/5/2014/11/2011_Tend-and-Befriend-Theory.pdf; https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/10941275/
⁹ See https://www.hartman.org.il/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/TEXTing-IRL-Ep-5-Source-Sheet-1.pdf
¹⁰ Isaiah 58:1-14.