Some thoughts for the Nine Days of Av
Jul. 30th, 2006 11:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taylweaverSo we are now in the "Nine Days", that is, the nine days leading up to (and including) the Ninth of Av, the day that commemorates the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash (the Temple) not once, but twice.
And so, some random thoughts and random experiences that I have had over the past few days:
First, the war is still going on and they have called up more reserves. These include one of the staff members from the group my sister is in charge of (sorry to be so vague, but this is a public post). We also have family friends with two sons who could be called up - and they worry about that.
When I went to shul (synagogue) on Friday night, I was two seats down from the wife of someone who works for my father who is now serving in the reserves. I thought, as I sat there, about something a friend had told me, about a gay man who had said he likes davening (praying)with a mechitza (separation between men and women) because then it is less obvious who is in shul as a single person and who has a wife and a family - that he therefore does not feel as left out. I was wondering if the mechitza served the same role for women whose husbands have been called up for reserves - that maybe, after being home by themselves or with their children, missing their husbands and worrying for their safety, they might feel a bit more "normal" sitting in shul as they always do, surrounded by their fellow women.
On Friday, I went to visit the kotel tunnels - the underground excavation that shows the continuation of the Western Wall that we call the Kotel - that is, the western retaining wall of the temple complex from way-back-when that was destroyed about two thousand years ago. It seemed like a verya appropriate place to visit during the nine days - though it was just coincidence in terms of the timing.
The first section of the wall that we saw included this huge stone longer than a school bus. The stone had rectangular holes cut into it at regular intervals - they were added about 1000 years later to hold up the outer wall of a cistern - whose pattern somehow made me think of the slurry wall at the World Trade Center site. Which was a strange connection to make - and yet it seemed a bit less strange as I thought about it.
We learned all about the destruction of the wall - how the Romans wanted to leave no remnant - how they wanted nothing that the Jews could even point to and say, this is where our temple used to be - so they pushed down each stone one at a time, into the marketplace below - the economic center that existed against the retaining wall, for obvious reasons. (Our tourguide referred to it as Wall Street, which she said was for both literal and figurative reasons - as it was the street that ran along the wall, but also the economic center.) When they got to this large stone, they could not budge it, so they chiseled away at the top, until they got tired of it and left it as it was, the bottom whole, the top broken off - newer stones now above it.
We also stopped at the "holiest" spot along the wall, the spot that is closest to the holiest point in the Temple. People stopped there to daven, and on the one hand, it felt weird to me to daven in a specific spot, but on the other hand, when I could think of nothing to say, I felt like I had missed some sort of opportunity.
Before our tour, I also davened shacharit (morning prayers) at the kotel. This was not because I wanted to daven in that specific spot, but because I hadn't had time as we were rushing out of the apartment. I have to say, it felt like I was davening to a wall - a very disconcerting feeling. Nothing about it felt holy.
So that was Friday. I also ordered a necklace with a Hebrew quote on it - which I'll be happy to show off when I get back.
On Shabbat, I had another meaningful experience. We ended Shabbat with one of the youth groups. We joined them for dinner before Shabbat ended, and after dinner, they sang and sang and sang - both Jewish and Israeli songs. It was so beautiful. I forgot how great it was to do that back when I was in high school and in college.
The second song we sang was "lo yisa goy..." : "nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they study war anymore."
From our mouth to God's ears.
And so, some random thoughts and random experiences that I have had over the past few days:
First, the war is still going on and they have called up more reserves. These include one of the staff members from the group my sister is in charge of (sorry to be so vague, but this is a public post). We also have family friends with two sons who could be called up - and they worry about that.
When I went to shul (synagogue) on Friday night, I was two seats down from the wife of someone who works for my father who is now serving in the reserves. I thought, as I sat there, about something a friend had told me, about a gay man who had said he likes davening (praying)with a mechitza (separation between men and women) because then it is less obvious who is in shul as a single person and who has a wife and a family - that he therefore does not feel as left out. I was wondering if the mechitza served the same role for women whose husbands have been called up for reserves - that maybe, after being home by themselves or with their children, missing their husbands and worrying for their safety, they might feel a bit more "normal" sitting in shul as they always do, surrounded by their fellow women.
On Friday, I went to visit the kotel tunnels - the underground excavation that shows the continuation of the Western Wall that we call the Kotel - that is, the western retaining wall of the temple complex from way-back-when that was destroyed about two thousand years ago. It seemed like a verya appropriate place to visit during the nine days - though it was just coincidence in terms of the timing.
The first section of the wall that we saw included this huge stone longer than a school bus. The stone had rectangular holes cut into it at regular intervals - they were added about 1000 years later to hold up the outer wall of a cistern - whose pattern somehow made me think of the slurry wall at the World Trade Center site. Which was a strange connection to make - and yet it seemed a bit less strange as I thought about it.
We learned all about the destruction of the wall - how the Romans wanted to leave no remnant - how they wanted nothing that the Jews could even point to and say, this is where our temple used to be - so they pushed down each stone one at a time, into the marketplace below - the economic center that existed against the retaining wall, for obvious reasons. (Our tourguide referred to it as Wall Street, which she said was for both literal and figurative reasons - as it was the street that ran along the wall, but also the economic center.) When they got to this large stone, they could not budge it, so they chiseled away at the top, until they got tired of it and left it as it was, the bottom whole, the top broken off - newer stones now above it.
We also stopped at the "holiest" spot along the wall, the spot that is closest to the holiest point in the Temple. People stopped there to daven, and on the one hand, it felt weird to me to daven in a specific spot, but on the other hand, when I could think of nothing to say, I felt like I had missed some sort of opportunity.
Before our tour, I also davened shacharit (morning prayers) at the kotel. This was not because I wanted to daven in that specific spot, but because I hadn't had time as we were rushing out of the apartment. I have to say, it felt like I was davening to a wall - a very disconcerting feeling. Nothing about it felt holy.
So that was Friday. I also ordered a necklace with a Hebrew quote on it - which I'll be happy to show off when I get back.
On Shabbat, I had another meaningful experience. We ended Shabbat with one of the youth groups. We joined them for dinner before Shabbat ended, and after dinner, they sang and sang and sang - both Jewish and Israeli songs. It was so beautiful. I forgot how great it was to do that back when I was in high school and in college.
The second song we sang was "lo yisa goy..." : "nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they study war anymore."
From our mouth to God's ears.
