Parashat Ki Tavo 5769--Elul Reflections

A recent article in the New Yorker magazine discussed what is known by economists as the “status-quo bias.” Economic studies have shown that once a “default” option is identified, people tend to choose it. And, once making a choice, people tend to stick with what they’ve elected. In fact, “just designating an option as the status quo makes people rate it more highly” (James Surowiecki, August 31, 2009, 29).

As we continue navigating this month of Elul (the 29 days leading up to the High Holydays), such reflections on change jump out at me. Yes, these observations by economists ring true. It is often easier to simply stick with the status quo, the default option, the known entity. And yet, our Jewish calendar compels us to stop and reexamine. This is a time for us to recognize that which is unsatisfactory in our lives and to make efforts to change.

This we know. This we have heard again and again. But, still we remain the same. Still we choose the default. Still we stick with the known. Why?

The New Yorker article continues:

Some of this may be the result of simple inertia, but our hesitancy to change is also driven by our aversion to loss. Behavioral economists have established that we feel the pain of losses more than we enjoy the pleasure of gains. So when we think about change we focus more on what we might lose rather than what we might get. Even people who aren’t all that happy with the current system, then, are still likely to feel anxious about whatever will replace it (James Surowiecki, August 31, 2009, 29).

This year’s season of Elul is different. We are called upon to change ourselves internally in a time of great upheaval and external change. We have spent the past year watching and experiencing gas prices, personal savings, home values, places of residence, jobs, benefits, economies, corporations, budgets change. Often not for the better. Often to places that feel intolerable.

This has been a time of deep loss for our society. We must recognize this as we head into Elul. This loss shapes our own process of teshuvah. This loss affects the way we are able to change. How can we risk changing and losing again when it feels that so much has already changed and been lost?

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Ki Tavo, the people stand on the edge of the Promised Land. Moses speaks to them of the ritual of first fruits, which they will be called upon to enact once they enter their New Land. They are told, “When you enter the land that Adonai your God is giving you...you shall take some of every first fruit of the soil...put it in a basket and go to the place where Adonai your Good will choose to establish the divine name” (Deuteronomy 26:1-2).

Amidst the many commandments reviewed by Moses, this commandment holds deep importance, not only to the Israelites, but also to us today. Amidst the loss, the change, the wandering, and the harsh realities of the desert, Moses makes us a subtle promise: You will still yet know sweet new fruit. Your wandering is not all there is. Or, as the Psalmist declares, “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy” (Psalm 126:5). Every new season brings with it the opportunity for hope and new life.

Our tradition asks us to change, to risk loss (even at this time of great upheaval), because our tradition is cyclical. We are taught that life is an ever turning circle. We are taught that “One may lie down weeping at nightfall; but at dawn there are shouts of joy” (Psalm 30:6). This year, we may not know which songs of joy are still to come. They may be different tunes than we had planned. The text may be altered from the versions we have known. The rhythm may be reimagined. But the joyful song will be pleasing to our souls all the same. This is the promise of Elul. Let us embrace it.