Back in the Land! – Observations in Quarantine (5)

Jerusalem – Sabbath – May 1, 2021

Yesterday was bedlam.

With Friday’s dawn, the sickening news about the crushing to death of 45 people at a Jewish religious festival on a Galilee mountain.

Frightening images filled our screens; eye-witness accounts chilled us.

A taut-faced Netanyahu made a helicopter flight to the scene, stood in grim silence gazing at the carnage, then declared that tomorrow (Sunday) will be a national day of mourning.

Distraught families set about the terrible task of identifying loved ones. Once done, they rushed to get their bodies to the cemetery, and into the ground, before the Sabbath began.

(Traditionally, Jews don’t embalm; if at all possible, there is no delay between death and the burial of the shroud-wrapped remains – usually without a coffin.)

Then quickly, almost abruptly, that frantic, frenzied, fear-filled day came to an end.

The sun set, streets grew still; a kind of hush draped itself over the Land.

It’s not been just the usual Shabbat stillness that I have grown to love so much – the pervasive quietness that facilitates the flow-in across my balcony of worshipful synagogue singing across the road, and playful children’s voices from bedroom windows.

Further afield, across the city and out into the country – measuring from the relatively unchanging domestic daily news coverage (on sites that post updates on the Sabbath) – the atmosphere stayed subdued, reflective.

Not peaceful, though, not really. Rather, there’s a sense of waiting; that the nation is holding its breath, bracing.

Waves that were assaulting the senses throughout last week have momentarily been restrained.  But they  are building, gathering themselves to come roaring back in, to loose again the turmoil: political ugliness in the Knesset, Muslim violence on the streets; menacing Iran, bullying Europe.  And not so good ol’ America.

All of which will bombard us via our screens.

But for now, waiting.

Waiting for the Day of Mourning, set by the government for Sunday, to come to an end.

And the evening and the morning will be the first day.