Ashkelon War Diary: Six Encounters

Sometimes, to write something new, you first need to learn an ancient language. In recent months, out of the painful reality of the war, I felt the need to return to deep sources, to the teachings of secrets and Kabbalah. Something opened up. A different voice began to speak.

The following texts were written in a single breath, on one winter day in Ashkelon, during a brief lull between the bombings. They are not essays or analyses. They are fragments of experience, an attempt to document the strange and wondrous encounters that occur when everyday reality cracks, and through the cracks, a different light flashes.

---

I.

In the morning, at a street corner in the city center, a great lion sat down, and there was a great commotion. I happened to be wearing my tefillin, so I felt no fear and approached him. I said, "What are you doing here?" He roared. I said, "Come with me." He came. We entered a side street, and I said to him, "Aren't you ashamed? You come here and cast terror upon human beings?" He told me, "I came to demand God." I told him, "What good are your roars that only frighten people? Go back to where you came from." He told me, "In my roar is hidden a great protest against bloodshed, against the fact that I must prey on gazelles to live. I am tired of murdering, but nature depends on the state of man, and the state of man depends on the state of Israel, that is why I came." I told him, "We are a small nation fighting for its existence, what do you want?" He told me: "That is the problem, you do not know who you are." He roared. He told me, "Recite your verse for me." I told him, "In the beginning, God created." He told me, "By means of that point called 'beginning,' a palace called 'God' was created. Now continue." I told him, "The heavens. Et is all the letters, from Aleph to Tav. Heavens (Shamayim) is all the names (shemot)." He calmed down. I told him, "Go, return to where you came from. You did not come in vain, your protest has been heard, and I will write a post about it on Facebook. Be optimistic." He told me, "All my optimism is sealed within my roar." He left.

II.

Later, on the way home, I noticed a man walking slowly. After a few streets, I met him again, while everyone around was walking normally. I approached and walked beside him, asking, "Why do you walk so slowly?" He told me, "I am gathering thoughts. Good thoughts, bad ones, sad ones, complicated ones. And I turn all the thoughts into one simple thought. And one simple thought I turn into one word, and one word into one letter. That letter blossoms in the air and disappears, and then I begin again." I said to him, "If that is what you do, then there is no fruit to your labor, and everything is destined to disappear?" He told me, "That is not what I said. The letter disappears but it exists. It enters the fog, where the letters have their place, and from there it rises to that cloud called 'the Smiling Cloud,' and it brings down rain and protects from the sun." I immediately bowed slightly and said, "Peace be upon you, my teacher and master, how many are there like you who walk slowly?" He told me, "In Ashkelon, I am alone. In Ashdod there is a woman. There are a few here, a few there, and in Jerusalem there are the most." I said, "What are you called?" He told me, "The Laborers and Wayfarers." I said, "Rabbi, what is the source of all thoughts?" He stopped. He told me, "You have asked a good question, my son... He is also called 'Reisha d'lo Ityada' (The Head that cannot be known), He is the Ancient of all Ancients, the most hidden of all hidden things, and thought cannot grasp Him at all." "At all?" I asked. He thought and said, "In the time to come." He walked on.

III.

After that, I walked on the beach in Ashkelon, and behold, a great fish was washed ashore, and from the fish's belly emerged a man with a suitcase in his hand. I said to him, "Who are you?" He told me, "I am a professor of philosophy at the University of Berlin. I fled the Nazis in '39, and the ship sank, and a great fish swallowed me, and I was preserved in saltwater. Where have I arrived?" I told him, "Many years have passed, and you have arrived in the State of Israel." He immediately took off his shoes, kissed the sand, and shed a tear. "The end of days," he said. I said, "What did you do all those years in the belly of the fish?" He told me, "I studied Torah." I said to him, "Tell me one new insight." He told me, "At the Binding, Abraham, who is 'Mercy' (Hesed), binds Isaac, who is 'Judgment' (Din). And so it is when putting on tefillin: the right hand, which is 'Mercy,' binds the left hand, which is 'Judgment.' And so it is certain that Mercy must overcome Judgment every day, but not completely, only to bind it a little." I said to him, "Thank you, Rabbi," hugged him, and accompanied him to the Ashkelon branch of the Ministry of Aliyah and Integration.

IV.

When I entered the market today, an old man grabbed me. He said, "If you are looking for seekers of God, and they are few, go to the small shop, to the man who sits there alone." I entered the shop and asked the man, "How do you seek God?" He told me, "In the beginning, there was a will that created a will, and the created will fragments into billions of wills. Every soul is a will, and I sit and in my thought, I clarify, gather, join, unite, and weave all the wills into one general will, which includes them all, and that will ascends. And then will meets will and a harmony is created, a supreme splendor above and below." I said, "Rabbi, bless the people of Israel." He told me, "Israel is a celestial creature that stands in the center of the heavens, and when it walks upon the earth, it only wears the form of a people. Blessed and blessed is she, above and below, but she must be united, for this is a very high matter. And for unity I grieve and for it I pray, and a word to the wise is sufficient."

V.

Towards evening, on my way home, I saw a man in the street walking with a lit candle on his head. I immediately asked, "What do you do for a living?" He told me, "I prepare feasts for the Holy One, Blessed be He." I said, "How so?" He told me, "I prepare feasts for the poor, and to every feast for the poor, the Holy One, Blessed be He, comes with the poor. And there are those poor in substance, and even poorer are those poor in spirit." I said, "What is the remedy for the poor in spirit?" He told me, "One must adorn the bride before her wedding canopy. Every correction, every renewal, every living emotion, every delicate chirp adorns and gladdens the supernal Bride, and she invites one to participate with her in the canopy, and they become partners and friends, and are healed from the poverty of the spirit." I said, "Rabbi, what about those in despair?" He told me, "That is the business of the righteous of the vacant space, who can pass through the void and save the suffering souls... and there are special righteous ones... who can draw out those souls." I said, "Who are those righteous ones?" He told me, "Every one of us." He walked on.

VI.

Before sunset, I came to the empty, wintry beach of Ashkelon, and there I saw a man sitting and silent. And I understood that he had something to say, and I sat down beside him. I said to him in silence, "What do you have to say?" He said to me in silence, "How can one speak of something that cannot be spoken of?" I said to him in silence, "It is possible, because we came from there." We were silent. Suddenly a wind came and blew his hat off. He grabbed his head and laughed. He said, "Oy!"