Omer 21

Barukh ata Adonay, Eloheinu, melekh ha’olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al sfirat ha-omer.

Blessed are You, Adonay our God, ruler of the universe, who makes us holy with mitzvot and gives us this opportunity to count the Omer.

Today is day twenty-one which is three weeks of the Omer. Hayom yom esrim ve ehad she hem shlosha shavuot laOmer.

Today is Malkhut be Tiferet, dignity within beauty, nobility within harmony.

So there’s a story about a small Shul. It’s broken down, old, no one goes any more. There are 6 elderly Jews left, and whether it’s Pinchas complaining about how much work there is or Sura chirping about her grandchildren, none of them are all that focused on faith any more. Finally, Rabbi Shmuel knows there’s a problem so he goes to see a wise Rebbe in a distant place. When he finally reaches there, the Rebbe is no help. “I really don’t know what to tell you,” says the Rebbe. “But you know what – I’ll let you know what my deep spiritual insight has discovered. One of you is the Messiah. You don’t even know it yourselves yet, but there it is”

Well, Rabbi Shmuel hurries home and tells this to his congregation. Everyone is confused. Who could it be? Not Devorah who was frankly, too old and thin and ill all the time, surely? Not Moyshe who was much more focused on his back than on his prayers? Not Rachel! She was hardly ever there! But what if it was? It could be!  Rabbi Shmuel? Sure he was forgetful and scattered, but he did know a lot about Torah…

Moyshe was just about to complain to Pinchas about his back when he thought “the Moshiach wouldn’t complain about backs!”. Pinchas was almost ready to tell Surah to talk about anything other than her grandkids when he thought, “what if She’s the Moshiach – those are the Moshiach’s grandchildren. They’d be pretty important.” He listened attentively. “Hmm,” thought Surah, “he listens so well. Maybe he’s the Messiah. He has a lot to do for a Messiah. Maybe I could help”. She set up some chairs and that Shabbat, brough a kugel to kiddush. Devorah settled in with a nice cosy smile. Delicious. And Rachel, who was there on one of her random visits was so impressed that she came the next week!

Gradually, as the six treated each other nicer, prayed with more kavanah and were more thoughtful in their own behaviours, more people came to shul. It started with Rachel, and then Surah actually brought her grandchildren, and then Pinchas brought his, and they had such a good time that their parents came the next week.  There were more people all the time, and the Shul grew and brightened. Thoughtfully, Moyshe hung a plaque that said “the Moshiach’s Shul” and this became the new title and attracted more people yet.

One day the Rebbe heard ot this Shul and decided to see it. “Well,” he said to Rabbi Shmuel, “did you figure out which one of you is the Moshiach?” “The Moshiach??” Said Rabbi Shmuel. “Who has time for that? Our Deborah sisterhood is starting up, our shool needs a new teacher, I hve a lunch planned for Sunday and Wednesday and our Torah sudy is booked for at least three months ahead. I’m not going to worry about the Moshiach! But really, Rebbe, is one of us the Moshiach?” “Well,” said the Rabbi, “the six of you saved something! You saved a Shul. And if saving a Jewish soul is like saving a world – then saving this shul is saving the universe.”

What would I be like if I was the Moshiach? Would I be more careful about that stain on my shirt? Would I avoid sarcasm more and worry less and work just a tiny bit harder? What if my friend was the Moshiach? Would I be more likely to call him up or to do that small favour for him? If I saw everyone as noble – as a Moshiach, a leader of leaders, would I be kinder? Because if I was – that would be beautiful. That would be majesty inside of harmony and nobility – nobility in the everyday.

Today, I recognize beauty and harmony when I see it – in evry face I see, including the one in the mirror. After all, any of us could be the messiah.

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Posted on May 17, 2018, in Iyar, Omer and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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