When young Tel Aviv was preparing for a visit from Winston Churchill, the British Colonial Secretary, Meir Dizengoff, Tel Aviv's mayor, wanting to impress the distinguished guest, ordered city workers to uproot a row of trees from the Mikveh Israel school and replant them in front of his house on Rothschild Boulevard.
The reception appeared green and festive. When the orchestra began to play and the large crowd pressed forward to greet the honored guest, the rootless trees toppled to the ground. Churchill, with his characteristic insight, told Dizengoff something profound: "Mr. Mayor, without roots, nothing will grow here..."
What do we do when things appear to be falling apart, when the world seems to be in upheaval and craziness? How do we use the “rotting” of the world around us as a catalyst for growth? How do we solve problems with fresh eyes?
Light cannot illuminate light; it simply dissolves into it. To receive new light, we must first create space by releasing our attachment to previous understanding. For a seed to grow, it needs to decompose into the soil and only then when it is dark, can it birth a tree.
However, that tree only grows when we invest deeply in nurturing their roots. The journey often requires letting go of our protective layers to unite with something greater than ourselves. To create something far greater than itself, the seed must empty itself and open to the infinite power of growth. As long as the seed maintains its current form, it can only produce results of similar size. But, to give rise to a majestic tree capable of bearing countless new seeds, it must sacrifice its outer layers and connect with the infinite force of growth itself.
The challenge with this is that it is uncomfortable. This spiritual vertigo isn't just uncomfortable, it can be frightening. Into this emptiness might creep doubt and uncertainty, challenging our sense of security. But this very uncertainty is the birthplace of renewal.
No one wants or asks to be challenged. Yet, when we are, we need to look at it with the lenses of growth. 1) This darkness, this job loss, this world upheaval is an empty space on the path for greater light and 2) If our roots, our trust in G-d, are strong then nothing can topple us.
Have a good Shabbos and a happy Tu B’Shvat! (Today, Thursday, is the 15th of Shvat - the new year for trees)
Rabbi Kushi Schusterman
P.S. Did you ever wonder why the dove in Noah’s ark came back with an olive branch? The olive tree has deep roots, spread horizontally, growing tough and strong, penetrating deep into the earth and between rocks, preserving them through time. Through these resilient roots, the trunk continuously renews itself.
Noah's dove managed to find one stubborn, resilient olive tree whose trunk and roots have survived the flood's pressure (perhaps it stood at a higher elevation where the water pressure was less intense). In the brief time since the water began receding, it had already sprouted fresh leaves - a powerful symbol of renewal and resilience.
Charles wrote...