Wake Up, Wake Up
Your light has come, rise and shine
Friday evening, the SLF and I were at six full days of non-stop movement. Sabbath approached, yearning to replace the hustle of those six days with her boundless joy and calming presence. We gleefully embraced her, ready for the respite that she weekly delivers.
There was extra meaning now. Standing in front of the Western Wall in Israel, on a cloudless 65-degree evening. The sun faded, while the overhead beams gradually replaced the vanished sunlight. The outer plaza filled in with tourists, while the section for prayer added one, two, ten, twenty people at a time — individuals, small groups, large classes of young men from nearby schools. One small group sang the Friday night prayer service, and then spontaneously began to dance around a seated, elderly man. I came to learn that this man was a Holocaust survivor who was part of the redemptive trip that started in Poland for Holocaust Remembrance Day and ended in Israel.
I turned behind me and joined a large group of men who were already locked arms over shoulders, swaying as they began the Friday night service. I was soon reminded why a little rest on Friday afternoon was so strategically beneficial. Our group soon expanded to over 150 men, dancing around the prayer leader, jumping up and down, singing to the point of screaming.
Come out my Beloved, the Bride to meet;
The inner light of Shabbat, let us greet.
Had they napped today as well? Unlikely. But they have younger legs.
TBC . . .