A long time ago, Rabbi Simon the Righteous revealed, ‘King David used to sling his harp above his bed. There it would hang suspended as David left for the world of dreams. Every night a north wind would gently caress the strings of the graceful harp. Gently the thrumming woke David from his slumber. In the still darkness of Jerusalem, David anticipated the task ahead. Immediately he would gather his heavy tomes and begin to study the holy words of the Torah.’1
Now inspired, David approached his table. Uncorking the ink and taking up his reed David set down his powerful and timeless words. Their inspiration has stirred readers through centuries that have stretched into millennia. The pious have found hope in those one hundred fifty poems. The afflicted have recovered broken parts of their souls. Celebrants have found reason to dance and laugh. The shunned have found an understanding heart.
Tehilim, Psalms, is the record of David’s midnight ruminations on God and Torah.
Each psalm is a poem requiring thoughtful reading and consideration. It s not always clear at first the actual goal of any particular psalm. Sometimes David seems to be speaking of his earlier life experiences. At times he is the voice for Moses, our teacher. In yet other places, David seems to know what lies in our heart and pierces it with his incisive words. While there are times when his exuberance for God is so great that it is difficult to key into the depth of his feelings; other times David is the voice of our soul.
It is believed that King David wrote a single chapter in his Psalms devoted to the brit milah, the covenant of the flesh that began with Abraham, our father. While there is little disagreement that David wrote a chapter about the covenant there is much discussion about which psalm is the one as none of them make overt mention of the brit milah.
Some believe the chapter of the covenant is actually the twelfth psalm. They base their claim on the introduction where David wrote, “An ode for the victorious on the Eighth, a psalm by David.” The brit milah takes place on the eighth day after birth. Would not this would be the allusion to the covenant? What else could the “Eighth” be if not the brit? Yet there is a larger problem with this: no other mention is made of the brit milah throughout this entire psalm.
Perhaps, suggests sage Rabbi Eliahu Gutmacher, the reference lies in the sixth chapter, not the twelfth. The sixth psalm opens with the words, “For the victorious one who plays the song on the Eighth.” We sing songs and praises when the brit milah is performed as another Jew comes into the holy covenant. Could this Psalm be the one because mentions the word 'song'?
What does the number ‘eight’ signify? It is the first day of humanity’s earthly existence. Remember that the seventh day is the Shabbat. That too was a creation of the Holy One. Shabbat is volitional not passive. Shabbat did not occur because God’s creative processes had stopped. On the contrary, the Shabbat was the final act of the One. The Shabbat was as much a creation as the moon.
Not until the first Shabbat ends is man on his own. Until then the process of creation have continued seamlessly. From the swirling chaotic mass of the cosmos to the seas teeming with life to the act of the Seventh Day, God has endeavored to craft both time and space. Eight is then when life stands of its own accord outside the borders of God's Creation. The eighth day after Creation is really the first day of humanity. The day of the brit milah, the eighth day after a life has been born, is likewise the first day of its Jewish life. Mimicking the seven days of Creation, the newborn waits for its moment which arrives on the morrow.
Shmini Atzeret, the least well-known of all the holy days, also arrives after a full week of celebration of the connective holy day, Sukkot. After seven days of singing Hallel; sitting, eating and rejoicing under the sun and stars in the Sukkah; shaking the four species, we conclude our Festival. Now, like the eighth day after Creation we are bereft of the guiding arm of the mitzvot of Sukkot. There is no waving of the etrog and lulav. There are no more blessings in the Sukkah. We are done. It is complete.
There is only a single moment – this Shmini Atzeret --before we reclaim our lives and move on. Where do we go? How do we proceed? That is the likeness to the eighth day after the Creation: we now choose our path. All the structure and practices of Rosh Hashanna, Yom Kippur and Sukkot come to a crashing halt. We choose like Adam and Eve emerging from Eden on the eighth day.
Perhaps the missing psalm of David is a paean to Shmini Atzeret. Could the most hidden of all the psalms be the one that challenges us to start over? A new beginning? Might the last of the holy days be a gift where we can put into place all the sorrows, vows and tears of the previous month? The ultimate new start.
1 Berachot 3b
Now inspired, David approached his table. Uncorking the ink and taking up his reed David set down his powerful and timeless words. Their inspiration has stirred readers through centuries that have stretched into millennia. The pious have found hope in those one hundred fifty poems. The afflicted have recovered broken parts of their souls. Celebrants have found reason to dance and laugh. The shunned have found an understanding heart.
Tehilim, Psalms, is the record of David’s midnight ruminations on God and Torah.
Each psalm is a poem requiring thoughtful reading and consideration. It s not always clear at first the actual goal of any particular psalm. Sometimes David seems to be speaking of his earlier life experiences. At times he is the voice for Moses, our teacher. In yet other places, David seems to know what lies in our heart and pierces it with his incisive words. While there are times when his exuberance for God is so great that it is difficult to key into the depth of his feelings; other times David is the voice of our soul.
It is believed that King David wrote a single chapter in his Psalms devoted to the brit milah, the covenant of the flesh that began with Abraham, our father. While there is little disagreement that David wrote a chapter about the covenant there is much discussion about which psalm is the one as none of them make overt mention of the brit milah.
Some believe the chapter of the covenant is actually the twelfth psalm. They base their claim on the introduction where David wrote, “An ode for the victorious on the Eighth, a psalm by David.” The brit milah takes place on the eighth day after birth. Would not this would be the allusion to the covenant? What else could the “Eighth” be if not the brit? Yet there is a larger problem with this: no other mention is made of the brit milah throughout this entire psalm.
Perhaps, suggests sage Rabbi Eliahu Gutmacher, the reference lies in the sixth chapter, not the twelfth. The sixth psalm opens with the words, “For the victorious one who plays the song on the Eighth.” We sing songs and praises when the brit milah is performed as another Jew comes into the holy covenant. Could this Psalm be the one because mentions the word 'song'?
What does the number ‘eight’ signify? It is the first day of humanity’s earthly existence. Remember that the seventh day is the Shabbat. That too was a creation of the Holy One. Shabbat is volitional not passive. Shabbat did not occur because God’s creative processes had stopped. On the contrary, the Shabbat was the final act of the One. The Shabbat was as much a creation as the moon.
Not until the first Shabbat ends is man on his own. Until then the process of creation have continued seamlessly. From the swirling chaotic mass of the cosmos to the seas teeming with life to the act of the Seventh Day, God has endeavored to craft both time and space. Eight is then when life stands of its own accord outside the borders of God's Creation. The eighth day after Creation is really the first day of humanity. The day of the brit milah, the eighth day after a life has been born, is likewise the first day of its Jewish life. Mimicking the seven days of Creation, the newborn waits for its moment which arrives on the morrow.
Shmini Atzeret, the least well-known of all the holy days, also arrives after a full week of celebration of the connective holy day, Sukkot. After seven days of singing Hallel; sitting, eating and rejoicing under the sun and stars in the Sukkah; shaking the four species, we conclude our Festival. Now, like the eighth day after Creation we are bereft of the guiding arm of the mitzvot of Sukkot. There is no waving of the etrog and lulav. There are no more blessings in the Sukkah. We are done. It is complete.
There is only a single moment – this Shmini Atzeret --before we reclaim our lives and move on. Where do we go? How do we proceed? That is the likeness to the eighth day after the Creation: we now choose our path. All the structure and practices of Rosh Hashanna, Yom Kippur and Sukkot come to a crashing halt. We choose like Adam and Eve emerging from Eden on the eighth day.
Perhaps the missing psalm of David is a paean to Shmini Atzeret. Could the most hidden of all the psalms be the one that challenges us to start over? A new beginning? Might the last of the holy days be a gift where we can put into place all the sorrows, vows and tears of the previous month? The ultimate new start.
1 Berachot 3b
No comments:
Post a Comment