THE PROFOUND MESSAGE OF "WHERE IS MY LIGHT?"

A TRIBUTE TO OUR RABBI AND TEACHER SHERWIN WINE

Today marks the yahrzeit of Rabbi Sherwin Wine, the founder of Humanistic Judaism.

For many in our movement—especially our congregation—this is a day of personal remembrance (which we will also observe when I return to the bimah sometime soon).

And for everyone who holds our beliefs, it is also a fitting time to reflect on his teachings.

Over the years, Rabbi Wine wrote countless essays, lectures, meditations, and ceremonial readings. Yet there is one short composition that has risen above the rest. It is, of course, "Where Is My Light? / Eifo Ori?"

Since he first introduced it, it has become the closest thing our movement has to a shared anthem. We sing it at celebrations and memorials, on holidays and at life-cycle events. Most of us can easily recite it from memory. It is the clearest expression of our Humanistic Jewish vision, as central to our gatherings as certain traditional prayers—the Shema Yisrael or Kaddish, for example—are for theistic Jews.

Rabbi Wine frequently pointed out that after thousands of years of recitation, the meaning of the traditional prayers is frequently lost in repetition. He once joked that they had become little more than "a collection of Jewish sounds." In other words, familiarity carries some risk when we no longer think about their real message.

Eifo Ori may not be quite as ancient, but its questions are as old as humanity. As long as Homo sapiens has walked the earth, we have asked where we can find light in times of confusion, hope in moments of despair, and strength when life demands more than we think we possess. For just as long, religions have mostly answered those questions by directing people beyond themselves—to gods, to miracles, to revelation, or to prayer.

Rabbi Wine offered us a different direction.

Where is my light?

My light is in me.

Where is my hope?

My hope is in me.

Where is my strength?

My strength is in me.

It does not direct us to answers from beyond. It reminds us what lies within.

Had Rabbi Wine confined the answer to those words alone, it could be mistaken for a statement of rugged individualism, as though each of us must face life entirely alone. But it doesn't end there. It ends with three short words (only two in Hebrew!) reminding us that the very same capacities we can find within ourselves may also be found in our relationships with others.

It reminds us that we need not face life alone.

This is Humanistic Judaism in miniature.

Our confidence is in ourselves—but never in ourselves alone. It is in humanity itself.

All that we need is there. Our light, a metaphor for reason, compassion, creativity, and more; our courage and strength; and our capacity to live with hope are found in what we possess and share with others.

They are strengthened in family and community, shared between generations, and discovered anew whenever people help one another through life's darkest moments. This is something I have thought about a great deal of late.

Part of the appeal of Eifo Ori is that it is easy to remember and to sing. Had it not been so, it would not have served our movement as well as it has. Its simplicity helps keep its wisdom close at hand, especially when life puts it to the test. In those moments, we discover that its message still rings true.

There are moments in all of our lives when our own light seems dim. At those times, we often borrow light from others: from family, friends, healers, neighbors, and communities. They lend us their light, hope, and strength, reminding us who we are until we are ready to shine on our own again.

Rabbi Wine understood the profound power of our shared humanity. It is why he did not simply write, "My light is in me."

Because as true as that may be, it is also all around us. Just think of those you love and care for and you will say in your heart, "And in you."

That simple phrase may be the most enduring legacy of the remarkable man whose memory we honor today.