Sculpting in Time, Creating a Moed: On Cinematic Editing and the Perception of Time in Judaism

Anyone who has ever entered an editing room knows: the editor's work is first and foremost dealing with time. A second back, a frame forward, cut. But what kind of "time" are we dealing with? Is it only chronological, linear time? Or is there a possibility of editing from a different, richer, and deeper perception of time?

In the Torah, the word "Zman" (זמן - time, in the modern sense) barely exists. Instead, Hebrew thought offers three completely different concepts: Et, Olam, and Moed.

1. Et (עת - The "Now" of the Shot) "Et" is related to the word "Atah" (עתה - now), meaning the present moment. This is subjective time, the momentary experience. In the editing room, the "Et" is the single second, the frame, the shot. It is the internal rhythm of every moment, the feeling that one shot conveys when it stands on its own.

2. Olam (עולם - As in "Le'Olam" - Forever) (The Eternity of the Film) "Olam" is eternity, the time beyond time. It represents the grand structure, the complete idea that is not dependent on a fleeting moment. In the editing room, the "Olam" is the entire narrative, the central axis of the film, the message or feeling that remains with the viewer long after the film ends.

3. Moed (מועד - The Cut as an Encounter) "Moed" comes from the word "Lehiva'ed" (להיוועד), to meet. This is the sacred moment when eternity ("Olam") meets the fleeting moment ("Et"). There are Moeds set in advance (festivals), and there are Moeds that man participates in setting (like Rosh Chodesh - the New Moon). In the editing room, the cut is the "Moed." The cutting point is the sacred encounter between two shots, between two moments. This is the place where the editor, as a partner in creation, decides to bring together the eternal and the transient and create new meaning.

Jewish Time: A Spiral of Change 

The Jewish perception of time is not a closed circle, but a spiral that has direction and hope. The word "Shanah" (שנה - year) is close to "Shinui" (שינוי - change), and "Chodesh" (חודש - month) to "Chidush" (חידוש - renewal). The Exodus from Egypt, for example, was not only a release to freedom from physical slavery, but also a release to freedom from the slavery of cyclical and pessimistic time. It established a new beginning of months in the spring, a time of growth, and introduced Matzah – "bread without time," bread that was freed from the need to rise.

In the editing room, this is a call to the editor not only to arrange events, but to build a narrative of change and hope. To understand that every cycle (scene, act) must advance the inner line of the story.

Time Travel: Teshuvah, Shabbat, and Editing 

Judaism assumes that time is not irreversible. Teshuvah (תשובה - repentance/return) is the ability to return to the past and correct its moral meaning. Shabbat (שבת) is the ability to encounter the future ("a taste of the World to Come") that comes to visit the present.

In the editing room, these are our most powerful tools. The flashback is not just a tool for revealing information, but an opportunity to do cinematic "Teshuvah" – to present a past event in a new light that changes our entire understanding of the present. The flashforward or foreshadowing are ways to bring a "taste of the future," to create a sense of destiny or a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled.

Editing as Revolution: The Gospel of Jewish Time 

Just as the perception of time in Judaism is a revolution that has a gospel – the gospel of the ability to correct the past and taste the future – so too must the editing stemming from it be revolutionary, avant-garde, and experimental. This is editing that is not bound by chronology. It is free to jump in time, to connect memory and prophecy, documentation and dream. It does not just arrange the shots in the order of their occurrence, but connects them according to the inner logic of the soul's will, and creates "Moeds" – new and unexpected encounters in time.

The gospel of such editing is the liberation of the viewer and the creation from the prison of linear time, and an invitation to an experience where every moment carries within it both the past and the future.

This is the difference between films like "Back to the Future" or "Interstellar," which allow a dialogue with time, and Tarkovsky's "Solaris," where the past imposes itself on the present without the possibility of Teshuvah.

But of course, as the Mishnah says:

"There is no man who has no hour, and there is no thing that has no place."

Our role as creators is to understand what the place is and what the hour is.

Sacred Cinema

 If there are different types of time, and if the editor can move between them, then perhaps a Pre-Prophetic film is an encounter between the soul of the creator and the soul of the viewer. And if the soul is infinite, then the film is a dialogue between two pieces of eternity.

This is sacred cinema – a meeting point between the eternal and the transient, between the infinite and the momentary now.

And to the editor sitting now in front of the timeline, a recommendation in two words: Openness and Freedom. Azut d'Kedusha (עזות דקדושה - Holy boldness).