Parashat Tazria
by Rabbi Yaakov Haber
After days of anticipation, the world stood in awe as the moon eclipsed the sun. People
were giddy with excitement as they beheld this wonder of “nature,” some driving for
many hours just to catch a better glimpse of it. (This writer has a neighbor who took his
family on a seven-hour trip to Buffalo, New York, just for a better viewing!)
And indeed, it was quite a sight. How strange to see an entire world bathed in orange!
How jarring to see the lights go dim on entire towns in a matter of moments! How
surprising to feel the temperature suddenly drop!
But then, just as the eclipse was over, something far more miraculous occurred.
Interestingly, people were so busy recovering from the wonder they had just observed
that they barely even noticed it.
As the moon moved onward in its path, the sun suddenly reappeared. There was light in
the world! And warmth! It almost seemed as if it had always been there, or had shown
up on its own. There, suspended somewhere in the universe, was a giant, yellow, fiery
orb giving light to the entire world and bringing warmth to all its inhabitants.
Somehow, this orb set so perfectly, that it’s close enough to give light, without being so
close as to burn us. And somehow, it’s timed so perfectly, that it never hinders our
ability to sleep at night, mysteriously disappearing until the people of the world need its
services the next morning. And, in perfect precision, the moon appears as the sun
departs, to give just enough light for the minimal outdoor function needed during
nighttime.
At that moment when the sun reappeared, it was almost as if someone had said, “Let
there be light!”
But of course, Someone did.
When the anomalies of nature inhibit the world’s perfect function, many people are
excited over the change. But others are awed by what is always there. The fact that
some things are so common and appear with such regularity should not make us think
less of them—but more.
In fact, those who are acutely aware of Hashem and His creation of the world were most
moved on the day after the eclipse. That day was Rosh Hodesh Nissan, the first day
that one can say Birkat Ha’ilanot. This beracha, which we often refer to as “the beracha
on the fruit trees,” is in effect a blessing of praise for the onset of spring. As we behold
the return of the foliage and we reflect on the perfectly orchestrated world Hashem has
created for us, including the fruits that are beginning to bud, we praise Him, שלא חיסר
בעולמו כלום—that He made a world in which there is no lack.
It’s a perfect world, created, run, and timed to the nanosecond. And we don’t need to
travel across the country to see it. We need only look outside, and we will see a
magnificent, perfect world.