From Rabbi Craig Mayers
October & November 2020
Last month in Miami-Dade County, some restrictions on gatherings were eased. Mayor Carlos Gimenez said in a news conference, “while we’re heading in the right direction, we’re not out of the woods.” That phrase “out of the woods” has deep meaning for us, but why? What is the problem with the woods that we should obsess over getting out of them?
For much of human history, traveling through (or worse, being lost in) a dense wood was very perilous, posing dangers ranging from death from exposure to death by becoming lunch for wildlife. Thus “not out of the woods yet,” a phrase which first appeared in the late 18th century, carries the sense of still being in danger although progress towards safety is being made. Lost travelers in a forest who have found the path home may be encouraged and optimistic, but they should not be complacent. There’s always the chance that a smart wolf will be waiting along that path home. We find ourselves figuratively in the woods, as we continue to navigate through this pandemic. We are definitely not out of the woods yet, and we cannot let down our guard.
Woods can represent danger. But Judaism has a long tradition of positive relationships with trees and nature. We even have a holiday centered around trees (Tu B’Shevat). Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, the founder of Breslov Chasidism, used to encourage his students to go out into the woods and talk to Hashem. His prayer says in part, “May it be my custom to go outdoors each day among the trees and grasses, among all growing things, there to be alone and enter into prayer.”
Our holiday of Sukkot speaks to this relationship with nature and to God’s protection. A sukkah is a flimsy hut at first glance, but it contains a powerful message – don’t rely on these partial walls, on this perforated roof through which you can see the heavens. Your real protection comes from above. Again, trees feature into our observance of the holiday as we make our sukkah’s roof resemble a forest canopy.
For much of human history, traveling through (or worse, being lost in) a dense wood was very perilous, posing dangers ranging from death from exposure to death by becoming lunch for wildlife. Thus “not out of the woods yet,” a phrase which first appeared in the late 18th century, carries the sense of still being in danger although progress towards safety is being made. Lost travelers in a forest who have found the path home may be encouraged and optimistic, but they should not be complacent. There’s always the chance that a smart wolf will be waiting along that path home. We find ourselves figuratively in the woods, as we continue to navigate through this pandemic. We are definitely not out of the woods yet, and we cannot let down our guard.
Woods can represent danger. But Judaism has a long tradition of positive relationships with trees and nature. We even have a holiday centered around trees (Tu B’Shevat). Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, the founder of Breslov Chasidism, used to encourage his students to go out into the woods and talk to Hashem. His prayer says in part, “May it be my custom to go outdoors each day among the trees and grasses, among all growing things, there to be alone and enter into prayer.”
Our holiday of Sukkot speaks to this relationship with nature and to God’s protection. A sukkah is a flimsy hut at first glance, but it contains a powerful message – don’t rely on these partial walls, on this perforated roof through which you can see the heavens. Your real protection comes from above. Again, trees feature into our observance of the holiday as we make our sukkah’s roof resemble a forest canopy.
Stephen Sondheim’s masterpiece Broadway show (later a major motion picture) “Into the Woods” takes a unique look at our fairy tales. So many of the tales seem to feature the woods – the scary version, usually. “What is it about the woods?”, is a question posed by the lyrics, and Sondheim posits a world where all the fairy tales occur in the same woods at the same time! Some have commented that elements of the musical are very Jewish in their theming. An article in Kveller said, “The real Jewish soul of ‘Into the Woods’ is the sense of overcoming unexpected, seemingly random disaster via a sense of community.”
There’s an old Chassidic story of a boy who went out into the woods every afternoon. One day his father followed him. The father observed his son talking to the animals and trees. When they returned, he asked the boy, “Why do you go out into the forest every day?” “I go to be with God,” the boy answered. His father asks him gently, “Isn’t God the same everywhere?” “Yes,” said the boy, “but I’m not.”
The woods aren’t necessarily something to be scared of – especially if it’s a place we go to find God and ourselves. In some ways, perhaps being “out of the woods” maybe isn’t such a good thing. May we continue to find God and ourselves in whatever woods we find ourselves in, and may we continue to merit His sukkat shlomecha – His canopy of safety and peace.
There’s an old Chassidic story of a boy who went out into the woods every afternoon. One day his father followed him. The father observed his son talking to the animals and trees. When they returned, he asked the boy, “Why do you go out into the forest every day?” “I go to be with God,” the boy answered. His father asks him gently, “Isn’t God the same everywhere?” “Yes,” said the boy, “but I’m not.”
The woods aren’t necessarily something to be scared of – especially if it’s a place we go to find God and ourselves. In some ways, perhaps being “out of the woods” maybe isn’t such a good thing. May we continue to find God and ourselves in whatever woods we find ourselves in, and may we continue to merit His sukkat shlomecha – His canopy of safety and peace.