As you know, I just got back from doing a wedding in Sicily, the first in this town since the Jews were expelled by Spain in the early 1500’s.  There’s a long and surprising history of Jews in Sicily, and I’ll share some of that during the oneg, but first I want to say how good it is to be back home.  I love travel, and I happen to be adaptable to new places, and I’m pretty comfortable in new situations.   As it turns out, that doesn’t include driving in Sicily.  By the time my plane landed, and I found out my bag was in Denver and had spent over an hour trying to communicate to the lost baggage office that the Delta check-in person had accidentally switched my bags with the bags of someone going on a ski vacation in Denver, and that I don’t have the right claim ticket because they were switched.  Anyway, I ended up driving into downtown Palermo in the middle of rush hour, which in Palermo means chaos, with cars halfway in and out of lanes, scooters weaving in and out along with pedestrians, and roads that are not really wide enough for two way traffic particularly with lots and lots of cars double parked.   At one point I and about 100 other cars had to cross four lanes of traffic to turn left onto an eight lane road.  There were no traffic lights, just a video-game of Froggie in my rental car.  And my rental car was a stickshift, which is ok, but it had the tightest clutch I have ever experienced.  It reminded me of my father’s ancient Simca back in the 70’s that he used to try to teach me how to drive a stickshift. So I was lurching around in stop-and-go traffic while my GPS completely misdirected me to turn onto one-way streets the wrong way, and spit out the names of roads – but there are almost no roadsigns in Sicily.  After over two and half hours  of having my GPS send me in circles, only to announce again and again, “you have arrived at your destination.” Thing was, I wasn’t even all that near to my destination.  

            I am not proud of myself by the end of that, and I’m glad there is no recording of what I said in the car to the GPS, but I was in a full melt-down.  I have driven in Italy, France and Israel and enjoyed it, but in Sicily, I was way out of my comfort zone.  I hated the situation, hated myself for getting myself into this situation, and hated Sicilians for the insane way they drive.  

            Later that night, after I had to call for someone to come get in the car and navigate me to the apartment, and after I had a drink, I was telling Tim about it, and it dawned on me that many people feel out of their comfort zone in many situations, including just coming to synagogue or Jewish events.  I tried to think about how what is a place of comfort for me is Sicily in a rental car for others.  It made me want to be much more empathetic to people when they feel too far out of their comfort zone.  

            I also thought about how important a sense of faith can be to help one stay  grounded when you find yourself too far out of your comfort zone.    Faith can’t make my GPS start working, or the clutch suddenly cooperate, and it can’t change the way Sicilians approach traffic, but when I was on the verge of abandoning my car in the street, it helped me calm myself down and realize I’m fine and the world is good and I’m just having a moment.  

            It also occurs to me that being out of our comfort zone is sort of Judaism’s brand.  When you think about it, every major character in the Torah’s story is about being out of their comfort zone.  Adam and Even get kicked out of theirs, Noah gets flooded out of his, Abraham is commanded to leave his.  And in the Book of Exodus we are reading now, we find Egypt pretty comfortable before a new pharaoh forces us out of our comfort zone, and then God and Moses start rocking the boat again, back and forth between slavery and freedom, and then escape into the wilderness, and what is the wilderness but a profound metaphor for being out of our comfort zone.  It is faith that allows them to stay grounded and moving forward in the midst of such upheaval, and not a simple faith in magic, but a deeper sense that they are part of something larger and more lasting, and that the current discomfort will pass and some new equilibrium will return.   

            We are all out of our comfort zones these days. Since this pandemic began, and now with the Omicron variant after the hopeful days of getting vaccinated and getting back together. 

            Earlier I talked about the Shiviti, and in the coming weeks I’ll write a blog about the Shiviti with more details for you, but the basic meaning of “I keep the Eternal with me always”, the simple idea that you are connected intimately and innately with something greater, whatever name you choose to call it, that then as the Psalm continues, 

I keep the Divine One with me always
God is at my right hand; I shall not be shaken.

So my heart rejoices,
my whole being exults,
and my body rests secure.  (from Psalm 16)

But as we go through this time out of our comfort zone as a community, but also so many of us going through very personal journey’s out of our comfort zone, let yourself find comfort in a sense of connection to a larger story, and to a larger consciousness, to God as our tradition sees it:  absolutely one but with endless names and qualities.  It is not magical thinking to let yourself feel the presence of the sacred, to let yourself feel connected and comforted, grounded by an awareness of the divine.   There will be time to analyze and be skeptical about it, and that is also sacred work, but at times like these, when we are out of our comfort zones in so many ways, it is ok to simply let yourself feel that unnamable Other and find a bit more comfort and peace amidst all the turmoil. 

Shabbat shalom.