A liminal state – a transitional phase of ambiguity, uncertainty, and transformation.
No better term to capture our current experience.
Time froze on October 7th, we never really moved on, and now, that excruciatingly long day is entering into Bein Hashmashos, the twilight zone, a state of liminality.
The root of liminal is limen, the Latin term for threshold. But a threshold is a clear bridge between inside and outside; you know exactly where you are coming from and where you are going. If we were to consider ourselves to be on a threshold, it would be a threshold made of running water, and the door before us opens into the complete unknown.
Which one of those precious captive souls we’ve praying and walking for are still alive?
Which bodies will never be recovered and will remain buried in the tunnels of Gaza forever?
Will Hamas really put down their arms? Are the people of Gaza really capable, after so much indoctrination, to sustain peace?
How long will it take the State of Israel to recover? Politically, financially, psychologically? Will the State of Israel recover?
What is the future of Jewry in Britain? In Europe? In America?
A liminal state – a transitional phase of ambiguity, uncertainty, and transformation.
“Zacharti lach chesed ne’u’rayich,” G-d praises the Jewish People for following Him into the desert, something I never thought of as a very big deal. G-d had just decimated the Egyptians through ten plagues; is following Him out of slavery all that impressive?
But it was my immaturity, my false bravado, that prevented me from seeing how terrifying it is to try something new. The comfort of what we know has an incredible hold on us; people will stay in abusive relationships for years because the unknown is far scarier.
Yes, it was a very big deal for the Jewish People to go, to take their families, some leaving their families, to leave behind everything they knew, to “follow Him in the desert.”
The Sukkah is the ultimate liminal space; sturdy but not too sturdy, a roof but you could still see the stars, it might be missing a wall or two, with gaps, but still considered a residence. Will our Sukkah stay standing this year or will the s’chach blow away? Will we get to eat all our meals outdoors or will it rain?
A liminal state – a transitional phase of ambiguity, uncertainty, and transformation.
But it’s not just the s’cach that can blow away in the wind; markets crash, loved ones get ill, relationships sour. Life is full of instability.
And that is precisely why we sit in the Sukkah.
The sukkah is described by the Zohar as the ‘shade of faith.’ By reminding us of the fragility of life, we are reminded how even in our greatest moments of instability, of liminality, G-d is watching over us.
There is a story told, known as The Last Seder in the Warsaw Ghetto, about a young boy and his father sitting together as the Warsaw ghetto is being burned to the ground by the Nazis. The boy, after finishing the Mah Nishtana, asks his father if he could ask him a fifth question. “Tatte, will I be alive next year to ask you the Four Questions?”
With tears in his eyes, the father reaches out to hold his son’s hand: “Moishe’le, I don’t know if you will be here next year to ask the Four Questions. What I do know that next year and every year after, a young boy just like you will ask his father the Four Questions.”
Our classical commentators debate the extent of Hashgacha Pratis, of personalized providence. Is G-d orchestrating every detail of your life or does He allow nature to run its course? Is the fender-bender you got in a message from G-d or a product of bad driving?
But all agree that the Jewish People as a whole are guarded by Divine Providence. In which country? With which government? In war or in peace? Who knows. What we do know is that G-d promises us that as a people we will prevail.
The individual Jews who followed G-d into the desert, they didn’t make it across the threshold. They all died in the desert. But the Jewish People as a whole made it through, from the darkest of places to the Holiest of lands.
To know that we are a part of this G-dly drama, to know that we are charged with doing everything we can to see it through, to know that G-d is watching over us, encouraging us, pushing us, so that we, the Jewish People and all of humankind, can make it across this threshold, I don’t know about you, but I find that to be extremely comforting and stabilizing.
Sergeant Major Elkana Vizel was one of the brave souls who gave his life to help us get to this point in history. Like all soldiers in Israel, he left a note for his family. His read as follows:
If you are reading these words, something must have happened to me. If I was kidnapped, I demand that no deal be made for the release of any terrorist to release me. Our overwhelming victory is more important than anything, so please continue to work with all your might so that the victory is as overwhelming as possible.
Maybe I fell in battle. When a soldier falls in battle, it is sad, but I ask you to be happy. Don’t be sad when you part with me. Touch hearts, hold each other’s hands, and strengthen each other. We have so much to be proud and happy about.
We are writing the most significant moments in the history of our nation and the entire world. So please, be happy, be optimistic, keep choosing life all the time. Spread love, light, and optimism. Look at your loved ones in the whites of their eyes and remind them that everything we go through in this life is worth it and we have something to live for.
His story is not over.
A few months ago, his widow, Galit, remarried. Right before the chuppah, she asked for the microphone and shared the following message: “Elkana, I am traveling on the path you paved for me. I am not swerving to the right or to the left… Every moment I am choosing life. I am choosing to be happy. I am choosing the vigor of life.
Elkana, please do me a favor. Continue to pray from Heaven for all the widows and for all of the nation of Israel.
Don’t forget what we agreed upon: Total victory is more important than anything else… against our external enemies… against our internal enemies – against sadness, against laziness, against giving up hope, against anger…
Since Simchat Torah, but in reality since the sin of Adam, we have been in a continuous war. We are in the same battle…
Elkana, you always fought your entire life… A war of good against bad.
And both of us know that good wins.
To the beloved Vizel family- Elkana is with you always. We are with you always. We are not leaving you. We are not giving up on you. We are family. It’s not easy for you. It’s not easy for us.
But Elkana asks of you: Be happy, ti’h’yu b’simcha!”
The Jewish People are no strangers to liminal states. Let’s sit in our flimsy Sukkahs and feel the warm embrace of G-d, let’s feel the strength of being part of this brave and holy nation, and let’s celebrate this holiday of overcoming liminality with simcha, with happiness.
Good Yom Tov. Chag Sameiach.