market place blown away

The marketplace I refer to is not Hadera's shuk, where 4 Israelis were killed on Wednesday in a pigua (suicide bombing). After a pigua, the area is evacuated of casualties, cleaned up, and returned to normal in a matter of hours.

I refer to Abraham Joshua Heschel's The Sabbath. He writes, A thought has blown the marketplace away. He explains Judaism as a sacralization of time, rather than space. There are proscribed words and actions, but there is no proscribed place. Shabbat is something intangible you carry with you wherever you go. In Israel, it is evident every Friday afternoon, the thought is enough to shut down the country, to halt commerce, travel, and bitter words. To resume study, reflection, and have a family meal.

Two shabbats ago, I met up with my girls in Ashkelon, and we caught a taxi to Nitzanim, a beautiful Mediterranean beach. We set up camp, lit Shabbat candles, and had a romantic meal, the sunset still in view. This is the Shabbat I shed some fear, and did my first front walk-over. Nellie led a ballet class in the sand. We read a children's book "Galgalim" ("Wheels") in Hebrew. We talked about finding the Middle Way of Judaism. I went running on the beach, not knowing it was an area especially for macho Israeli guys to show off on their ATVs. Jerrin got a gory jellyfish thigh attack, but I didn't have to pee on it, because they keep vinegar at the bar.

Last Shabbat I was in Tzfat, which is known as the holy city of ruach. There are four holy cities: Jerusalem is fire, Tiberias is water, Hebron is earth, and Tzfat ruach (air/spirit). It is said to be the longest continually-inhabited jewish city in the world. Its old city is carpeted with pale sandstone, and blue hangs over the hill; awnings and window grates are painted blue, and the sky is clear and crisp. The air is said to be medicinal for body and spirit. Although I wasn't feeling too well after sleeping for 3 nights on the beach of the Kinneret through the weather change, I made my way to Kabbalat Shabbat at a Chabad synagogue and to the home of a Chabadnik couple and their 7 beautiful daughters. They spoke no English, so I focused on the food while Asher, the father, told tales of tzaddiks (righteous men) at length, and the women discussed the new exhibition at Yad Vashem. Tzfat was cold, but shivering in my bed did not diminish the power that I felt there. Fall had definitely begun and with it a different idea of what this year will bring. Most notably, a new friend, Shmuel, who has just begun studying at a yeshiva in Tzfat, asked if I was a revolutionary. Please, friends, I hope you understand that I can say no more.

This Shabbat I am visiting with the aunt of my dear friend, who fills her hilltop cottage with all the organic produce and exotic teas I can think of. She comforts me with stories of her adventures here and abroad, of meeting fascinating teachers, and learning to cook, and heal, and understanding where she was meant to go. This morning we swam in the sea, and this afternoon we had a sunset walk among pines and a rose garden, with both the Palestinian and Jordanian border fences in sight.

When I finish writing, I will invite Shabbat, and the marketplace of my words will blow away for a day.