Written by Rabbi Harry Pell, Associate Head of School

The first is King Solomon, Shlomo HaMelech. Granted, he's been gone from the scene for some time, but there is a midrash about King Solomon that has taken on a life of its own, and from which I have drawn a great deal of comfort. According to one version of the midrash, which may actually be based on a Persian saying, Solomon challenged his servant to find a magic ring that if worn, would make a sad person happy, and a happy person sad. As the servant's allotted time to fulfill Solomon's impossible quest was about to expire, he asked a jeweler to engrave a ring with three simple words: גם זה יעבור, gam zeh ya'avor, "this too shall pass." On our happiest occasions, we need to cherish the moments because we know they won't last, and on our lowest days, we can take comfort in knowing that things will eventually get better. This too shall pass, גם זה יעבור.

The second person is Nachum Ish Gamzu. Nachum was a rabbi in ancient Israel in the first century c.e. (a second generation Tanna for anyone keeping score at home!) In all likelihood, he was known as ish Gamzu, the "man of Gamzu," because he was from a town called Gamzu, or more likely Gimzo, which was the name of a town in Israel at the time. This is not how the Talmud explains Nachum's name, though. Instead, the Talmud explains that Gamzu is shorthand for Nachum's nickname, גם זו לטובה, gam zu l'tovah, "this too is for the good." He approached all of life's challenges with a sense of optimism and hope. Had he lived today, they probably would have called him "Nachum Silver Linings," and I've taken his inspiration to look for silver linings myself. And amid all of the loss and difficulty, there are definitely silver linings.

Finally, I've taken inspiration from Rabbi Jacob Zahalon, who was both a physician and a rabbi in Italy in the late 1600s. I would not know of Rabbi Zahalon, but Rabbi Sosland highlighted him to me based on her father's research into Rabbi Zahalon's sermons. During Rabbi Zahalon's time as a leader in the Jewish community in Rome, the city was ravaged by the plague, and those who were not ill or dying were essentially under quarantine, locked into their homes to prevent the spread of the disease (sound familiar?) Jews could not go to shul, and Rabbi Zahalon could not deliver his sermons from the bimah. So, in twenty-first-century parlance, he pivoted. He flung open the windows of his apartment and encouraged his neighbors in the ghetto to do the same, as he shared his words of Torah from the window, instead of the bimah. Difficult times lead us to innovate, as Zahalon did, and the human capacity for creativity and innovation is an inspiration in and of itself.

As I write this, I don't know how long the pandemic will go on, or how many more months it will take to return to normal, or what normal will even look like when we get to the other side. But I do believe that we will get to the other side, and that this too shall pass. I believe that we will find the bright moments and unanticipated opportunities in the meantime, and make the most of them. And I believe that we will find new and creative ways to move our community forward, as Rabbi Zahalon did when his community experienced its pandemic, because we must.