Dear Elul Writers,

Last week I went to a retirement party at Emory; a long-time facilities employee was leaving his position as the custodian of the university’s chapel. I didn’t know Mr. G. well — there is no regular davening that happens in the chapel. But, we would interact around the High Holy Days or graduation or campus-wide vigils. Mr. G. is a quiet person who is vigilant about the space that he takes care of. He didn’t necessarily want to be friends, but he wanted to set up the space in the way that it was supposed to be set, and, when the time came, to break it down again. 

All of which is to say, I did not expect to be moved by the affair. Yet, the party, attended by colleagues from our chaplaincy team, members of Emory’s Facilities Department and some of the staff and administrators from the Candler School of Theology, ended up feeling like a celebration of a sacred space and its caretaker. 

Those who knew Mr. G. better than I did, spoke of his deep care for the space. They talked about the way that he would polish the wooden exterior doors of the building, or how he would come in at night to shampoo the carpet. One professor from the theology school spoke of Mr. G.’s faith, how his service to the building was a service to the Divine. For forty communities on campus, across faith traditions, the chapel is a place where they come for prayer and meditation and connection, and Mr. G. made sure that the place was befitting of such a sacred purpose. Here, I had shown up to this event out of a sense of obligation, and now my eyes were filled with tears of appreciation for this holy work (to be fair, it doesn’t take much).

In Psalm 27, the official psalm of this season of teshuvah, we say, collectively, “My one request is to dwell b’veit Adonai, kol yemei chayai / in Adonai’s house, all the days of my life.” My friend and chevrutah, R’ Margot Meitner, used to ponder about what kind of housemate the Holy One would be. Would there be dishes in the sink? Would things feel too cluttered? Too tidy? Would there be passive-aggressive notes left on the counter? Having recently reflected on the real labor required to maintain holy space, the question that emerges for me is, what does it mean to reside in holy space? What is required of us? When it comes down to it, are we willing to polish doors or shampoo carpets? 

DAY 15 PROMPT

We place so much emphasis on the inner-work during this time of the year — the soul accounting and the quiet time for reflection. It might feel nice (and necessary) to put some sweat into our Elul journey. On the 15th day of the month, consider what labor you are willing to do this year for the holy communities and sacred spaces in your life. Will you set up chairs for Kabbalat Shabbat? Help clean up the green space in your neighborhood? Organize the food pantry at a local shelter? What makes work feel like holy work to you? If we imagine ourselves dwelling in G!d’s house, what upkeep are we willing to do?

Take care,

Jordan