From the Fruits of Our Deeds

Night:

Flames. We are marched from our homes, still in our Shabbat clothing. Stupefied, not yet aware that this is real, we gather in the shul

We pray

How does the city sit solitary, that was full of people! How she is become like a widow!

Kinot. Tears.

Crying, not greeting one another, we slink to our homes to not eat, not drink, not be entertained, not laugh, not make love

Morning:

We mourn.

Not just destruction of a building, but of an ideal

We have built our own jail with angry hands, raised as fists against one another

Because we still speak ill of one another

Because we still cheat one another

We look for hurt caused against us by a brother or a sister to justify our rage

We cause each other to fear saying anything, lest it be judged negatively

We burn our shuls down with chatter between the pages, during the prayers, over the words

And we justify and rationalize everything:

“I don’t want to speak lashon hora, but…”

“Sheltering money is an investment. It’s not actually theft. It’s my money, after all!”

Once sensitive to the plight of the downtrodden, we hurry past the beggar without as much as a smile of apology.

We destroy our own Holy Temple again. And again. And again. Year after year. Word after word. Deed after deed undone.

Chatzot:

We are wrung out, sad beyond words, beyond tears. Our contumely, our culpability in the destruction of others and of ourselves, disgusts us at last. We are ready for the chair.

Afternoon:

So tired. Hungry. Thirsty. Contrite.

Finally, we feel what we have lost.

A sliver of silvery light seeps sweetly into our souls…

We begin to yearn

And the yearning repairs us

Repairs the rent fabric of the universe

Slowly, slowly, we remember

Ancient history, when 600,000 people packed into a holy space

Worshipping together

Dancing

Singing

Not one complaining –

Not one!

That there is not enough space for ME, for MY worship, for MY experience.

It was all about each other.

Night:

May it once again, today and forever, be about each other.

Together, we will rebuild, with these freshly-washed hands.

Together.

RE – 10 Av 5778.