A thought on Parshas Tazria -Metzora
"...yamim rabim..."
"...for many days..." (15:25)
In describing an interval of time in which a husband and a wife must remain apart, the Torah tells us that this may last for "many days."
The Chezkuni ponders this: the time frame relevant to the laws outlined in this verse is a three day interval. Three is hardly "many." Less than half-a-week is not really a long time at all. Why the "exaggerated" tone to the verse's use of words?He writes, citing a midrash, that any time which is difficult for people is called "a long time." The expression "for many days" depicts the emotion of those moments. In objective reality, they are a few days, a little time. In subjective experience, those few days are really quite a while of waiting.
It is this relativity, where phenomenology (one's private encounter within an event) wrestles with the world of matter and substance, that we have a hard time defining "time." When you enjoy something, it is quickly over and when you suffer, it seems not to end.
When we are with those who matter to us and to whom we matter, those years and decades can rush by like the wind blowing high above the trees, where shadows run from themselves. When someone you love is absent, the wait seems endless.
And here we are in golus. HaShem scattered our people among nations and across oceans. We proclaim our watchful vigil for ge'ula. Does that wait seem long? Is it yamim rabim for us, or do we fail to notice the seasons which tarry and the centuries marching by us?Are we privately attuned to the spiritual reality, which lasts and lasts, or distracted by the temporal joys of mundane monotony?When that shofar gadol resonates across the skies, will we rush to greet the moshiach demanding "what took you so long?", or will we see the grime of golus slipping away, asking, "so soon?" Or will the moshiach have to come over and greet us, reminding us that the time has come today?Refuah sheleima to my son Yosef Ezra who emerged from surgery , with HaShem's loving care, and a bracha to my wife who is on the March of the Living in Poland, helping young people find the spirituality within the ashes, and guiding survivors back to their memories. Good Shabbos. D Fox
"...for many days..." (15:25)
In describing an interval of time in which a husband and a wife must remain apart, the Torah tells us that this may last for "many days."
The Chezkuni ponders this: the time frame relevant to the laws outlined in this verse is a three day interval. Three is hardly "many." Less than half-a-week is not really a long time at all. Why the "exaggerated" tone to the verse's use of words?He writes, citing a midrash, that any time which is difficult for people is called "a long time." The expression "for many days" depicts the emotion of those moments. In objective reality, they are a few days, a little time. In subjective experience, those few days are really quite a while of waiting.
It is this relativity, where phenomenology (one's private encounter within an event) wrestles with the world of matter and substance, that we have a hard time defining "time." When you enjoy something, it is quickly over and when you suffer, it seems not to end.
When we are with those who matter to us and to whom we matter, those years and decades can rush by like the wind blowing high above the trees, where shadows run from themselves. When someone you love is absent, the wait seems endless.
And here we are in golus. HaShem scattered our people among nations and across oceans. We proclaim our watchful vigil for ge'ula. Does that wait seem long? Is it yamim rabim for us, or do we fail to notice the seasons which tarry and the centuries marching by us?Are we privately attuned to the spiritual reality, which lasts and lasts, or distracted by the temporal joys of mundane monotony?When that shofar gadol resonates across the skies, will we rush to greet the moshiach demanding "what took you so long?", or will we see the grime of golus slipping away, asking, "so soon?" Or will the moshiach have to come over and greet us, reminding us that the time has come today?Refuah sheleima to my son Yosef Ezra who emerged from surgery , with HaShem's loving care, and a bracha to my wife who is on the March of the Living in Poland, helping young people find the spirituality within the ashes, and guiding survivors back to their memories. Good Shabbos. D Fox
posted by Rabbi Dr. Fox at 11:08 PM
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