1000 years ago, the Crystal cracked...
Jul. 13th, 2006 04:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bnewmanToday begins the three weeks leading up (or is it down?) to Tisha B'Av, when traditional Jews mourn the destruction of the Temple. The story of the Temple's destruction, and the traditional hope for its eventual restoration, has always (since I first really thought about it) reminded me of "The Dark Crystal".
I'm not sure how to approach this time. I've deepened a lot in my Jewish practice lately, but my upbringing was Reform and didn't feature the remembrance of the Temple very prominently (or at all). I'm drawn to a mystical appreciation of my people's mythology, but I'm deeply ambivalent about how much significance to attach to the embedding of that mythology in real, historical time. I know I'm not comfortable with the idea of a single sacred place to the exclusion of all others — after all, the Holy Mountain could be anywhere.
However, I do feel drawn to acknowledge the theme of exile — the idea, represented by the destruction of the Temple and our expulsion from the Land, that we and the divine Presence are both in exile in the world. It seems to me that "exile" must mean the illusion of separateness, the failure to see all beings as connected, what others have called "alienation". We — all of us, not just Jews — are in exile because we perceive ourselves to be alone when we're really connected, and the divine Presence is in exile among us because She is the connection that we so often fail to acknowledge.
So what do we do about this? We make connections, of course. Connections between people, connections with nature, connections between the physical performance of a sacred act and its higher meaning. Jewish sages have taught that meaningful actions like these restore the scattered sparks of divinity that are trapped in the broken world. The same general idea could be described with other metaphors. I believe that every tradition which teaches mindfulness and loving-kindness is together in this work.
So, what's the significance of the actual destruction of the actual Temple (twice!) in historical time? We Jews are a people of history. Mystical truths may be timeless, but it is our history that calls us to bear witness to them. Thus, while some degree of spiritual exile is a condition of all people at all times in history (even, I suspect, while the Temple was standing), our bearing witness to this truth is inextricably bound up with our literal, historical exile.
Speaking of such things... even as I write this, hostilities have resumed between Lebanon and Israel. Meh. Yep, the world is still broken. So I will close this post with a prayer for peace: May the One Who makes peace in the high places make peace for us, and for all Israel, and for all who dwell on Earth, and let us say "Amen".
I'm not sure how to approach this time. I've deepened a lot in my Jewish practice lately, but my upbringing was Reform and didn't feature the remembrance of the Temple very prominently (or at all). I'm drawn to a mystical appreciation of my people's mythology, but I'm deeply ambivalent about how much significance to attach to the embedding of that mythology in real, historical time. I know I'm not comfortable with the idea of a single sacred place to the exclusion of all others — after all, the Holy Mountain could be anywhere.
However, I do feel drawn to acknowledge the theme of exile — the idea, represented by the destruction of the Temple and our expulsion from the Land, that we and the divine Presence are both in exile in the world. It seems to me that "exile" must mean the illusion of separateness, the failure to see all beings as connected, what others have called "alienation". We — all of us, not just Jews — are in exile because we perceive ourselves to be alone when we're really connected, and the divine Presence is in exile among us because She is the connection that we so often fail to acknowledge.
So what do we do about this? We make connections, of course. Connections between people, connections with nature, connections between the physical performance of a sacred act and its higher meaning. Jewish sages have taught that meaningful actions like these restore the scattered sparks of divinity that are trapped in the broken world. The same general idea could be described with other metaphors. I believe that every tradition which teaches mindfulness and loving-kindness is together in this work.
So, what's the significance of the actual destruction of the actual Temple (twice!) in historical time? We Jews are a people of history. Mystical truths may be timeless, but it is our history that calls us to bear witness to them. Thus, while some degree of spiritual exile is a condition of all people at all times in history (even, I suspect, while the Temple was standing), our bearing witness to this truth is inextricably bound up with our literal, historical exile.
Speaking of such things... even as I write this, hostilities have resumed between Lebanon and Israel. Meh. Yep, the world is still broken. So I will close this post with a prayer for peace: May the One Who makes peace in the high places make peace for us, and for all Israel, and for all who dwell on Earth, and let us say "Amen".
