IN SEARCH OF TIKKUN OLAM AFTER SEPTEMBER 11, 2001

Oh eternal Source of life,

Source of what connects everyone and everything

And of what disconnects:

I don't know that I can call you God,

Or Adonai Eloheinu, Allah, the Tao

Or any other name for all that connects,

That makes meaning,

Or that people use to separate themselves

In Your name.

But today, in my grief

I must reach out to Your one-ness

To Your many-ness

To all that exists

Which is You, Which is us, Which is everything

All connected.

We are of you, of the universe

But we forget.

Which explains my tears today.

In this time of grief and of fear

Too great to describe in my meager words,

I call out for healing to the rhythms of universal connection

To the ground and to the air and to the waters that sustain me and all who live

To the stars and planets as you vibrate in harmonies I cannot understand

To the leaves, hinting of autumn glory

To every tender exchange ever shared between people and peoples.

I call out:

Oh Oneness oh Many-ness

Please help me find strength,

With so many dead to grieve at once.

Not the strength to make others afraid

Not the strength to make revenge

Not the strength to continue this cycle of evil.

That is no strength to me

But only fear and pain and righteous anger transformed,

Desecrated, perverted, without healing

Oh Source of life

Oh One-ness proliferating into Many-ness

Oh Many-ness unifying the harmonies of the Universe

Oh music of stars and quarks and birds and whales

And music of many rituals observed around the world:

This is the help I ask.

To find the strength to love through my tears and my fears

To love all the dead of this dreadful time

And to love all who love each and every one of them.

It's not so hard to love the passengers and crew,

Fashioned against their will into tools of others' destruction.

Not so hard to love the cleaning women and businesspeople

Easy to love heroic rescuers caught in the inferno

Crushed below so many stories so many lives.

Not so hard to love those who will never stop yearning

For their loved ones' return, never to be.

But how can I find the strength

To love the assassins? I said Kaddish for them too.

But I know that is not enough.

What anguish brought them to this terrible place?

Can I love their mothers and their orphaned sons,

Some of whom will take their place

Some of whom will work for peace?

This is hard, so hard, but I must.

My world, perhaps something even greater

Depends on it.

Can I love the Palestinian boy, my cousin,

Rock in hand?

Yes I can. He is a child and I love him.

But can I love the Israeli soldier who guns him down?

Can I love this child's brother

Who waits three years to take his revenge

On a bus filled with Jews?

Can I love an Israeli government who forgets

That we too once were strangers

Blamed for all wrong with the world.

This is hard, so hard, but I must.

My world, perhaps something even greater

Depends on it.

Can I love those who believe the Taliban

Crusher of women

Perverter of Islam

Will root out evil

And who are willing to die

To avenge American bombings on Arab soil?

This is hard, so hard, but I must.

My world, perhaps something even greater

Depends on it.

Can I cry enough for half a million Iraqi children

Or for my own government whose righteousness

Caused their deaths by blockade?

No milk, no penicillin, no compassion from the powerful.

Can I care enough about why so many people hate my beloved home

And stop the bombings stop the despoiling

Of Your beautiful and damaged earth?

This is hard, so hard, but I must.

My world, perhaps something even greater

Depends on it.

Oh Source of life and of all the connections in the universe

Can I care enough about the despoilers of the earth

The greedy so despised and feared

To help them to help us to help me

Know that we create our own destruction

With every soul we ignore

With every soul we reject

With every soul we hurt

With every person and every thing we use up

And throw away.

Oh eternal Source of connection and disconnection

Of life, of peace,

Of death and of hatred

Help me.

Help me find the only strength that matters.

Oh One-ness and Many-ness

We may call you Adonai Eloheinu,

or Allah or the Tao or we may call you many gods

Or we may not call you at all.

Whatever we imagine to be true

Please, please

Give me the strength to help grow compassion for all

And to grow enough compassion to go around

     and around

     and around.

How else to heal a shattered world?

How else to do Tikkun Olam?

How else to heal myself?

     Jodie Kliman

     September 18, 2001

     Rosh Hashana, 5762

(The Hebrew Tikkun Olam refers to the spiritual obligation to mend a

broken world.)

Jodie Kliman lives in Brookline, MA, where 7 people were lost to the tragedy. She grew up in New York and worked in the World Trade Center many years ago. She has many people in her personal and professional life who lost relatives and friends in the attacks of September 11th. She can be reached at jkliman@world.std.com.