Skyward is below. Some updates on Erzebet, she appears in my book Capital Punishment in Popular Culture, Toys, Games, and Nursery Rhymes-Toying with Death, Cambridge Scholars Publishinghttps://www.cambridgescholars.com/product/978-1-5275-0116-4. She will appear in my book War Paint-Ethics in Beauty, Press, December 2025 or 2025. https://ethicspress.com/search?q=tsagaris
Skyward for December 2024
Cosmic Thoughts
David H. Levy
Torah study, a meeting among friends and members, takes place on most
Saturday mornings. It is the only time
that I try to awake before noon. It is a
program of Beth Shalom Temple Center, our synagogue. During each two-hour session we continue our
discussion of the Torah, which is composed of the first five books of the
Bible. I am a bit uncertain as to my
role there. I do begin each session
with a poem from my collection of night sky-related poetry. But once when it was my turn to read from
Genesis, a passage described how a group of people stayed on the someone’s
land one night: “Then Jacob offered
sacrifice upon the mount, and called his brethren to eat bread: and they did
eat bread, and tarried all night in the mount.”(Genesis 31.54) Without really thinking about it, I added,
“And while they were there, they set up their telescopes and enjoyed a lovely
evening of stargazing.” Most laughed,
some were stunned, and possibly one just left.
I
love the relationship that the Torah points out that developed between God and
Moses. I had the feeling that they
became friends. It appeared that God’s
anger was kindled frequently, with good reason. and that, as our Rabbi pointed
out, Moses tried to calm him down.
Even though I consider myself agnostic—we cannot know if God even
exists—I do take my faith quite seriously.
I find it appropriate to think that God has a temper, and even a sense
of humor.
As
our discussion went on week after week, I suggested the idea that other people
might have a similar, personal relationship with God. I suspect that my late wife Wendee did. But before I get to the story I want to tell,
it is time to relate just how special Wendee was. Except for eclipses of the Sun and the Moon,
Wendee did not come into our marriage with a passion for the night sky, but she
built it as time passed. She never tired
of urging me to continue and expand my early morning comet hunting sessions. On occasion, as I looked eastward in
anticipation of closing the observatory roof, I would see her smiling
face. She did not like to climb out of
bed before dawn, but when I asked her if she would like to arise early the
morning after I discovered my most recent comet in 2006, Wendee replied that
she wouldn’t miss that opportunity for the world.
Wendee’s
passion was not at all limited to looking outward, to the sky. She also encouraged me to look inward. Joining the Torah study was her idea. It began my weekly Saturday early
rising. Right from the start I did considerable
reading of the Genesis and Exodus chapters, and I began a tradition of reading
a poem at the start of each session which I still do. The Torah study is an activity that remains
close to my soul, and I look forward to it always.
Wendee’s
role in Torah study did not affect just me.
“She always had profound words to say,” relates Dr. Martin Cohen, the
leader of our Torah study group. “I will
always remember her insights intro scripture and what she felt when she looked
up into the heavens, and the potentials she saw in all of humanity.”
Now for my purpose
in writing this article. I like to think that she used that friendship to her
advantage on April 8, 2024, during the total eclipse of the Sun. On April 8, we
did catch portions of the incoming partial eclipse. But as the dark umbral shadow of the Moon
rushed towards us, the clouds thickened and we could not see the Sun. The sky was darkening quickly, and the
temperature was plunging so fast that I could feel it plummet. It seemed obvious to me that we were not
going to see the total phase of this eclipse. Then I imagined that in Heaven,
Wendee turned to God:
“God,” she said, “Why won’t you let Doveed see
the eclipse?”
“Well,” God smiled as he replied,
“Doveed hasn’t been that good a boy lately.
For example, he still doesn’t have a handle on my third
commandment. He may be trying, but he
hasn’t got it yet.”
“So what?” snapped Wendee. Let him
see the damned eclipse!”
“OK. You’re the boss.”
In the next minute I saw by far the
most dramatic total eclipse I have ever witnessed. The clouds parted magically.
There was a spectacular corona, and a lovely prominence at the lower limb of
the Sun.
After the total phase of the
eclipse was over, I witnessed a spectacular display of sunlight glimpsing its
way through valleys on the edge of the Moon, an effect called Bailey’s Beads. Wendee
approached God again and said, “Actually, God, you’re the boss.”
The smile vanished as God replied,
“Yes, I am the boss. But I have tasked you with taking care of Doveed.”
I cannot forget
that incident. And in a sense, it
doesn’t matter if it really happened that way or not. It will always live in my memory. I miss Wendee terribly, and
wonderfully. She gave me a significantly
richer sky, and a much happier life.
Moon, Jupiter and Saturn
