Let There Be Light

 So last night was our 4th of 6 Talmud class given by Rabbi Moshe, or, as I have begun calling it since going to "No Party" on my voter's registration: Bible Class.

Barry, Norman, and I took a Bioethics class last year and enjoyed it, and when we heard about Talmud study, we re-upped. Jeff is in, too, though he's too busy to meet us for our pre-class dinners -- my favorite part of the evening.

We had no class last week on account of Rabbi's wife giving birth to their second child, a girl. He's 25, and only has 2 kids -- dude needs to step up his game! Before class, I told him that when his parents moved here, they had just the one child, Mendel. Jeff and Lili kept up with his parents through 3 kids, but then Rabbi Yossi and Nechama pulled away. They have 9!

Last night we met at One Thousand Sunny, an Asian place in the Center across from the office building which is the temporary Chabad HQ. The Center has a comically high number of restaurants -- Roasters for breakfast, and just about every other kind of food. One Thousand Sunny was ok -- I think next week we may go simple, per Norman's request: Jersey Mike's Subs.

The class last night was a lot of history of the Talmud -- the various rabbis from about 300 BCE to 300 CE and how they put the great document together. Honestly, much of the history went over my head -- I don't see bringing up Talmudic history at future cocktail parties - but at the end of the evening, the class resonated with me.

Rabbi Moshe told of a parable of a young Rabbi asking his much wiser Rabbi suegro why goats walking always seemed in front of ewes. The elder rabbi said "Like the world, darkness comes before light."

And we learned the Hassidic view of creation. The Big Man was infinite, and had G-d light far greater than can be imagined. He decided to create the world, and made it a dark place, until He said, famously: "Let there be light." And then there was the day and night, forever -- light following darkness.

Rabbi explained that was the way of all the world -- we all have darkness from which we must emerge to live in enlightenment -- whether a disability, or challenge. Since all religion is personal, I reflected on my own life: the darkest day being July 14, 1982 when my Dad died in my arms, and how, as my life went on, I was bathed in an enormously huge amount of light in the form of my family and dear friends.

Since great, or at least mediocre Talmudic scholar minds think alike, after class I said to Barry and Norman I was thinking of the Gloria Estefan song "Coming Out of the Dark." Norman already had the lyrics on his cell phone -- it occurred to him, too. Gloria's song is about emerging from the darkness of a bus crash that nearly killed her, and her long rehab allowing her to again perform and soar.

There are 2 more classes, and I look forward to them. Life has fallen into a lovely rhythm -- Tuesdays with grandkids, Wednesday class. I'll probably sign up for the next JLI class, too. Wifey is committed to Wednesday night mah johng, so she'll probably skip, but maybe Norman and Barry and even Jeff will wish to continue.

Speaking of Barry, his boy Scott's Big, Fat, Media wedding draws nigh. We're scheduled to muster, 9 of us (Ds, husbands, boys, nanny Lizeth, and Wifey and I) in 2 Fridays at MIA and fly up to D.C. Hopefully the weather is tenable, and the cherry trees in bloom. If not -- plenty to do inside -- I can't wait to see the faces of Little Man and Baby Man when they see the rocket ships and dinosaur skeletons.

Yes, life holds darkness -- each night, certainly, and sometimes even when the sun shines. But oh that light is so beautiful...