On RCS Lesson 5, Purim- Your Reason for Being; Uncovering Your Personal Mission--A Lesson from Queen Esther.
We inhabit a sliver of our little planet and yet at times our ego consumes us, leading us to feel that we are the universe, that we are all that exists.
Our perspective might be a bit wider, as we think about the people and places within our immediate surroundings.
We might marvel further at the vastness of the oceans and lands abroad, especially when sitting on an endless plane flight.
But how often do we contemplate just how vast the universe is?
I often think how big California is, but it's only a fraction of a planet.
I think about our Earth, but it's a grain of sand in a dune of endless galaxies and planets.
I think about how big and bright the sun is, but there are billions upon billions more.
I think about the stars, tiny and twinkling at night, but they're actually thousands of times larger than our planet Earth.
When we are only focused on our sense of self, planets, stars, galaxies, and most importantly people all fall away.
But when we think of the opposite extreme- that we are physically infinitesimally small- it can make us feel insignificant.
While materially we are indeed smaller than a grain of sand, spiritually, we have the power to make a cosmic effect, more than that magnificent moon in complete silvery splendor that doesn't struggle with free choice to shed light.
The beautiful Yom Kippur prayers remind us, "Though Your mighty praise is proclaimed by heavenly angels, by celestial beings who flash like lightning...yet You desire praise from mortal men whose years are few...who are surfeited with anguish, whose souls are grieved...who seek pardon...who hasten to Your gates...and this is Your glory."
What's your raison d'etre?
PS- We took our children last week to the Griffith Observatory, a museum containing an extensive array of space and science-related exhibits.
Boy did I feel awe and did I feel tiny in that large room of wall-to-wall displays of towering "celestial beings."
I found myself wondering if the other museum-goers and docents, from a wide range of backgrounds, speaking a multitude of languages, felt similarly disconcerted about their smallness.
There is clearly an international, universal pull to this Observatory- are the reactions also similar?
I'm so grateful for Judaism's perspective in showing me that I matter: not in an arrogant way, but in an awesome, responsibility-laden way.
