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A Kabbala Perspective

April 29, 2011: Two billion sat glued to their television sets this morning, to watch the marriage of Prince William and Princess Catherine.

There is something of the human being that will never be satisfied by being human; a part of us—an integral core—that demands the unattainable reside somewhere within our world. A prince by virtue of royal lineage, a princess lifted to a place where I could never be, a marriage from a fantasy world beyond my own, yet here on planet earth. No matter how powerful I could imagine myself, how wise and how masterful, how esteemed and respected, their world will remain transcendent of my own.

Yet, the British loyalist says, this is my prince, this is my princess.

The cynics are right—this marriage is nothing but symbolic. Royalty has been lost to the world. And so we crave it even more.

From the moment that they were sundered apart, the mystics tell us, the earth craved to reunite with heaven; physical with spiritual, body with soul, the life that breathes within us with the transcendental that lies beyond life, beyond being.

And as much as the pulse of life yearns to return above, yet more so does the Infinite Light yearn to find itself within our world, within that pulse, within finite, earthly existence.

Towards this ultimate union, all of history flows, all living things crave, all of human activities are subliminally directed. When it will finally occur, it will be the quintessential of all royal weddings. You won’t need to find a hut on your island with a television. You won’t need to google “royal marriage.” The wedding will be before your eyes. You shall be lifted to that place.

May it be soon in our times, sooner than we can imagine.

The sky above Itamar.
The sky above Itamar.

Shalom my sweet, innocent children.

Shalom, Yoav. Shalom, Elad. Shalom, Hadas.

It’s already thirty nights we are not in this world, my sweet, innocent children.

Now we are in a better place. A place where men would never dare burst into our home with knives in their hands. Thirsty to spill our Jewish blood.

We would love to kiss you again, our sweet Tamar, Ro’i and Shai.

You cannot see us, but we are with you. Imma Ruthie and Abba Udi are watching you from up above. From where we are praying for you. From where we are trying to protect you.

From human cruelty which can slash the throat of a three months-old baby in her sleep and spear a three year-old boy to the heart.

It’s already thirty nights we are not in this world, my sweet, innocent children. Now we are in a better place... From the hypocrisy of a world which is not able to respect us even after we’re dead. Which uses the term “settlers” to deprive us of our humanity. Of our right to be here in this land which was promised to us since our forefathers’ time. Which disregards our blood-soaked wars of defense to appease the same countries who launched them decades ago.

Countries who oppress their own citizens yet shamelessly foist upon us a twisted moral standard. In the name of a false peace. Places where hanging, stoning and lashing are not an irregular part of life. Where at the news of three children butchered in their cribs and beds, they distribute candies and dance in the streets. Coloring their hands red for people to remember that killing Jahud is an important duty.

My dear children, we hope you understand the choice we made. To live away from luxury and comforts. To see taken away from us the honor to be called “victims” and to see our killer’s motives regarded sympathetically. It was a choice of life. A choice for a better and more peaceful life for our brothers and sisters. For all our nation. And future generations. A choice of a refined existence, based on studying and teaching Torah and transmitting it in a never-ending chain. A choice of joy and love though a few miles away from our homes people prefer destruction and hate.

Good bye again, our precious children. We will never stop watching you from up above and we will keep asking for only the very best for you. Good bye again, our precious children,. We will always be with you, our beloved. Go on being proud “settlers,” people who live in their own land fearing only G‑d. Go on being proud to be Jews as Abba and Imma taught you in the short period in which we shared our lives. Say the Shema prayer every night. Know that Imma and Abba are still there, holding your hand, very tight. Kissing and embracing you, in the way you’ve always liked. Go on asking G‑d to make you grow good and beloved. By every person who meets you. By everyone you know. Good night my precious children, do not seek revenge. Don’t waste useful energies cursing our murderers and living in pain. Go on building houses, planting trees, filling our schools with your future children.

Go on with our unfinished task. The task of raising Jewish generations full of love and devotion. For G‑d and His land. Proud to be part of a nation that never gives up. Though facing a tragedy, a weapon, a war. Though confronted with innocent blood, despaired calls in the night. Go on loving each other. Also this means to be a good Jew: To accept what G‑d has decided for us.

Good bye again, our precious children.

We will never stop watching you from up above and we will keep asking for only the very best for you.

We will love you forever.

Your parents,

Imma and Abba

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