Have you ever wanted something so bad that it hurt your heart? Seen something so horrific that it just bled your heart dry? Just want to go home, lie in bed or even a corner somewhere, and long to feel safe for even just the one, single night?
Tragedy on Mount Horen
This past week, we extend our hearts in compassion to our Israeli brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. Early Friday morning, just past midnight, 100,000 Israelis gathered at the tomb of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai on Mount Meron to celebrate the holiday of Lag B’Omer.
Due to yet unknown reasons but likely the result of the sheer number of people, the mass of people gathered began to stampede, and—last I heard—45 people tragically died as a result, including 4 Americans.
The Omer is a 49-day period between Pesach and Shavuot, the time between our redemption from slavery in Egypt to our receiving Torah—the light of wisdom—at Mount Sinai. As we know, our enslavement in Egypt was not the first time we’ve seen tough and bloody days.
Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai lived at the time of the Roman Empire. In around the year 127 CE, just about 60 years after the Roman destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem and just about 5 years before the Bar Kochba revolt, Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai was heard speaking against the Romans.
One of his students—probably frightened for his life and his family’s safety and well-being—spoke his words to the Roman Governor. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was promptly sentenced to death, so he fled with his son to the caves where they lived on dates and carobs alone for 13 years.
One day, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and his son saw a bird escape the net of a hunter, not once, but twice. On the 33rd day after Passover, they felt encouraged and began to believe that they were no longer forsaken. After taking just a few steps, they heard the Bat Kol, a faint whisper of the echo of the voice of God, “You are free.” It is their freedom—and ours—that we celebrate each Lab B’Omer.
A Humbled Heart
This week, we read from two portions from the Hebrew Bible, Behar and Bechukotai (Leviticus 25:1 – 27:34).
In Parashat Behar, God tells us to institute a sabbatical year for the earth each seventh year. While we can eat produce from the fields, we may not plant or work the land during the seventh year.
Also, each 50th year, we should maintain a jubilee year where Israelites should return to their land and ancestral homeland and all Israelite indentured servants freed and their debts released.
Parashat Bechukotai tells us that we will be rewarded with fertile rains and God’s presence if we adhere to these commandments, though warns of consequences if we do not; we will fall before our enemies, be heart stricken by homesickness, and we will rot from guilt.
So how does one become freed from such horrors and callousness? By opening ourselves and humbling our heart. How important it is to give our hearts a break!
Each seven years, we are reminded that there is plenty! We are reminded in Leviticus 25:19. The Divine tells us, “And the land will give its fruit, and you shall eat your fill and dwell there in safety.”
God is speaking to You! “There is more than enough to go around.” We are all enough. Each and every single one of us. Can you hear the Bat Kol now? “You are enough!”
Our lives are ripe and filled with plenty. Lest we forget, the Divine asks us to do with less, to give the land a break, and in the process enliven our heart with its own sabbath rest. Each and every moment, we are reminded that we can feel safe. And dwell here in safety. Home is never far away. Even in the darkest of times!
“On the Slaughter”
Chayim Nachman Bialik wrote the following poem following the Kishinev pogrom in 1903. It is called Al HaSchitah (On the Slaughter):
Heaven, beg mercy for me!
If there is a God in you, a pathway through you to this God –
which I have not discovered –
then pray for me!
I – my heart is dead, no longer is there prayer on my lips;
all strength is gone, and hope is no more.
Until when, how much longer, until when? [Ad matai, ad anah, ad matai?]
You, executioner! Here’s my neck – Go to it, slaughter me!
Behead me like a dog, yours is the almighty arm and the axe,
and the whole earth is my scaffold
– and we, we are the few!
My blood is fair game – strike the skull, and murder’s blood,
the blood of nurslings and old men, will spurt onto your clothes
and will never, never be wiped off.
And if there is justice – let it show itself at once!
But if justice show itself after I have been blotted out from beneath the skies –
let its throne be hurled down forever!
Let heaven rot with eternal evil!
And you, the arrogant, go in this violence of yours,
live by your bloodshed and be cleansed by it.
And cursed be the man who says: Avenge!
No such revenge – revenge for the blood of a little child –
has yet been devised by Satan.
Let the blood pierce
through the abyss! Let the blood seep
down into the depths of darkness, and
eat away there, in the dark, and
breach all the rotting foundations of the earth.
Until When? How Much Longer? Until When?
We are no strangers to the world of Chayim Nachman Bialik! Have you never begged for mercy? Or mourned a broken and dying heart? Have you never demanded vengeance? Or lay your neck on the line?
Where do you hear the voice of the Bat Kol calling out, “You are free!”?
Until when? How much longer? Until when?
When do you untrap the dove, release her from suffering, and allow peace in your land? Peace in the recesses of your home, and in the cracks of your heart?
Ad matai? Ad anah? Ad matai?
What do you look at and find satisfactory? What is your fill? When can you look in the hardest of mirrors and recognize that you… are… enough?
Until when? How much longer? Until when?
When can we look from our hearts and allow ourselves to live? And permit hope to transverse our veins?
Ad matai? Ad anah? Ad matai?
What will it take to not demand self-sacrifice? To pull our necks from the altar away from under the butcher’s knife?
Until when? How much longer? Until when?
What will it take to not demand revenge? To withdraw our swords, and pull our enemies necks from atop our sacrificial altar?
Ad matai? Ad anah? Ad matai?
As I write these words and say them to God, know that I am equally, if not more so, saying them for myself. As I write these words and say them to you, know that I am equally, if not more so, saying them to myself.
Blessed are “You”!
May all those broken hearts lost the other night in Mount Meron—and may I and we all—return home and dwell in safety.
May we all realize the fullness of life—our own life, the life of our dearest ones, and even our enemies—with a full, complete, living heart.
May we not let blood seep into the earth, but use our tears to water the saplings of justice and compassion.
May we all realize the freedom to answer Chayim Nachman Bialik’s question: Until when? How much longer? Until when?
Ad matai? Ad anah? Ad matai?
Until when? Now!
How much longer? Just this moment!
Until when? Now!
Baruch Atah, Adonai! Blessed are You—each and every single one of You!
God of Wisdom, allow us to see Your light and show ourselves at once. God of Justice, allow us to wipe off the blood and turn away from slaughter. God of Mercy, allow us to return home and give the fields of our heart a break and much needed rest.
When? Now!
How much longer? Forever!
When? Now!
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Adam Fogel
www.mindfuljudaism.com