What an exciting time it is in the Jewish calendar! In the span of
just three weeks Jews throughout the globe have reaffirmed our freedom with the
holiday of Pesah, we have celebrated renewal Rosh Hodesh Iyar, and we danced through the streets of Yerushalayim on Yom Haaztmaut, as we marked 64 years of Jewish
sovereignty in Eretz Yisroel. Simultaneously, however, we
revisited nightmares of the Holocaust on Yom Shoah, and recalled the soliders lost defending this country on Yom Hazikaron. These are, without a
doubt, two of the most depressing and trying moments of the Jewish year. There
is a tension, an uncomfortable coexistence of two seemingly divergent
depictions of the collective Jewish reality; are we amidst a time of
unparalleled bereavement or are realizing the reinvigoration of a once hidden
joy?
On the one hand we mourn the 24,000 talmidim (students) of Rabbi Akiva,
killed for a failure to respect each other. On the other hand, we bear witness
a wave of blue and white flags flood the streets of Yerushalayim, marking 45
years since our capital’s liberation. The omer, it seems, is a confused and
complex time.
Really, however, it is a period of managing these dichotomies
in our life. It is an opportunity to reflect, and to challenge ourselves to live
life to its fullest, embracing both the opportune and the appalling. The first
stage of achievement is ambition, the forerunner of anticipation is often
anxiety, and the precursor to rebuilding is, unfortunately, destruction. We
fail if view each of these different times as separate, isolated experiences; only
when view them all in the context of holiness and see them all as crucial
strands in the Supreme tapestry, can we really feel ourselves standing at Har
Sinai, experiencing Hashem’s revelation.
This is a tension echoed by Hizkuni (a 13th century, French commentator) in his commentary on this
weeks parsha, Acharei mot- kedoshim. Throughout kedoshim there are references
to Aseret Hadibrot, each with a nuanced difference. L’dugmah (for example), Hashem referrs to himself as Ani (I) instead of Anochi (the venerable I), and the commandments for Shabbat and kibbud av ve’em (respecting one's parents) are said in the
passive rather than in the imperative. Hizkuni suggests that the reason for
this is , בה לפי שכל הדברות כללות because all of the commandments are included in it. In
other words, every experience that we have in life will be complex, and the key
is to allow ourselves to experience it all.
In one of my
favorite teachings, the Mikhilta d’rabbi Yishmael on Parshat yitro (which was taught to me by Rabbi Ethan Tucker), we find the
famous words.זכור ושמור, שניהם נאמרו בדיבור אחד " (Remember and keep--the two different phrases used in the different recounting of the Ten Commandments--both of them were said in one utterance).Here, though, it is clearly
not speaking about Ta’aseh and lo ta’aseh (positive and negative) mitzvahs. His other examples, show that what we are actually
concerned about are two mitzvoth that seem mutually exclusive. That is to say,
if I accept the paradigm of Shabbat fully as a day of zachor, elements of shamor
are impossible, while if I accept it fully as a day of shamor, zachor is unachievable.
The objective, it seems, is to somehow simultaneously accept both narratives,
and realize that what initially seems to be an impossible tension, morphs into
a rich, and fuller reality.
Over this omer period, my kavana is to experience both
elements, each individually, yet also as a unit, together. To allow the power
of both realities to permeate my being, and to experience the time in the
fullest of ways.
