That starry sky at night, all those stars, galaxies: God is something like that. The rolling ocean: that too. Mountains a few can climb, but most can’t: those also work.

A group of beautiful, glowing orbs? Oh yes– the Sephirot!

We naturally back our way into the most authentic “religious practices” without a thought. In the right lane on the highway, cars merge from the onramp, and a driver naturally adjusts his speed to accommodate the onramp’s merging traffic. People usually do that for you, and you do it for them. If someone doesn’t, he probably had a good reason. You do unto others as you like them to do unto you, and you do not condemn the innocent.

The Sephirot, as representative of God, includes some divine characteristics, some of which can seem to conflict. Martin Buber’s “Tales Of The Hasidim” is full of stories relevant to that.

One such set of characteristics pairs “rigor” and “mercy.” Characteristics we all possess and sometimes struggle to balance.

These old musical groups from as far back as the ’60s still go out on the road and perform, as long as there’s an audience, and as long as there’s a semblance of the group. The so-called Somethin’-Somethin’s, say, had a #1 hit in 1964, which was recently used in a commercial for a fantastically popular shoe somewhere, and now that group has an audience there. Thanks to record company lawyers, the great-great-great grandson of the guy who played drums during the group’s only recording session now has the rights to the name. Four other guys are recruited, and these are the Somethin’-Somethin’s! Some obscure musicians get a gig, and lots of happy people enjoy the concerts.

At a kitchen table, sits a grandson of someone who bought the group’s only album when it was first released. He stumbled across it in his grampa’s house, and it touched him in a way little had, before or since. He youtubes this group’s shows, filled with disdain for the entire concept at work in this promotion.

Now they’re coming to his town, but there is no way he will go, because not only are they not the Somethin’-Somethin’s, they are the Anything But The Somethin’-Somethin’s. Had they changed the name a bit to acknowledge the reality of the situation, maybe he would go, but the artifice is deeply offensive.

This is understandable to anyone who has seen a favorite group replace a member and then act as if nothing had happened.

A group is coming to my town for maybe the first time ever, a favorite old group I’ve never seen. Research has revealed that only one of the four members is from the classic line-up that recorded those old albums.

Rigor kicks in. It’s not really them!

But a band can’t always hold onto members, whose careers can end for any number of reasons.  Can a fan say, “The new guys aren’t as good as the old guys, nor do they have their vision?” No. The new guys might be superior musicians, in the sense of combining technical ability and musical inspiration. The band as is might actually be better than before, although there’s no way of knowing that, the previous musicians being no longer around for comparison purposes. Do I know how long the “old” musicians had been in the band? No. Do I know how long the “new” musicians have been in the band? No. Do I know why the “old” musicians had been in the band? No. Do I know why the “new” musicians are in the band? No.

Rigor insists that reality be respected. This is not the same group of musicians one came to love so long ago, and those musicians will always hold first place in one’s affections for that group. That can’t be ignored.

But “mercy” also has a place. One decides fairness dictates that one give the “new” group a chance. It’s probably nobody’s fault that it isn’t the old group. And, as with all the things one loves,  some things can be understood, accepted, and charitably overlooked.