This spring and early summer did not conform to the plan I had for them. In late March, I was supposed to submit my rabbinic dissertation; I was looking forward to celebrating my grandmother’s 93rd birthday in Poland in April; I planned to combine my placement visits to Newcastle Reform Synagogue in May and June with short walking holidays in Northumberland and County Durham; finally, in early July, my family and friends were supposed to come to London from Poland, Israel, Germany and the UK to celebrate my ordination.
None of this happened. First, my dissertation deadline got postponed when many members of my College community developed Covid-19 symptoms; then family gatherings became impossible; then the visits to Newcastle were suspended indefinitely; finally, my ordination ceremony got postponed until further notice. Not that my family could attend it anyway; travelling abroad has become too cumbersome to be viable.
Cancellation of one of these events would not have been pleasant but it would be manageable. What made this spring and summer difficult for me was the cancellation upon cancellation of things that I was looking forward to or, at the very least, had planned. The hardest bit about it was that I didn’t know how long this limbo period was going to last and that I was aware that there was little I could do to change my situation. Feeling powerless and anxious, I turned to the Hebrew Bible to search for words that could express my feelings. I found them in Psalm 13:2-3:
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]How long, O Eternal; will You ignore me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me?[/perfectpullquote]
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]How long will I have cares on my mind, grief in my heart all day?[/perfectpullquote]
I am convinced that in lockdown all of us had a difficult experience that made us ask ourselves: ‘how long is it going to last?’ Let’s pause here to remind ourselves the emotions and actions that brought this moment about:
Was it anxiety about our and our family’s health?
Fear for our economic future?
Lethargic resignation?
Frustration and anger?
A mixture of all of the above?
In lockdown, we have experienced the feeling of insecurity about the future that characterised Jewish life throughout much of our history. In many periods, Jews felt like one hardship followed another. They yearned for an age of peace and prosperity, which was supposed to start with the coming of the Messiah. Soon after the destruction of the Temple, Jews expected Messiah to come in the near future to release them from oppression. They made numerous predictions regarding the date of Messiah’s arrival, which was supposed to spell the end of their suffering. These dates have come and gone until they were forced to conclude that the messianic age is not going to start any time soon. Abba Arikha (? – 247 CE), the founder of the Talmudic academy in Sura (modern day Iraq), expressed this belief as follows:
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]All the ends of days [of suffering] that were calculated passed, and the matter [i.e. the arrival of Messiah] depends only upon repentance and good deeds.
Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Sanhedrin 97b[/perfectpullquote]
Interestingly, Rav does not specify good deeds that one needs to perform in order to speed up the arrival of the messianic age. However, later in tractate Sanhedrin we learn that the Messiah has already arrived:
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi encountered Elijah the prophet and asked him: ‘When will the Messiah come?’ Elijah answered: ‘Go ask him.’ Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi asked: ‘And where is he sitting?’ Elijah replied: ‘At the entrance of the city of Rome.’ Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi asked him: ‘And how will I be able to recognise him?’ Elijah answered: ‘He sits among the unfortunate ones who suffer from illnesses [that force them to self-isolate outside the city].’[/perfectpullquote]
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””] Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi went to Rome to meet the Messiah. He said to him: ‘Greetings to you, my rabbi and my teacher.’ The Messiah said to him: ‘Greetings to you, son of Levi.’ Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said to him: ‘When will the Master [i.e. Messiah] come?’ The Messiah said to him: ‘today.’ Sometime later, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi met Elijah again and said to him: ‘The Messiah lied to me, as he said to me: I am coming today, and He did not come.’ In response, Elijah explained: ‘He said that he will come “today, if you would only listen to his voice” (Psalms 95:7)’. Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Sanhedrin 98a [/perfectpullquote]
As we can see, Rabbi Yehoshua Ben Levi encounters the Messiah but it does not bring about the messianic age he hoped for. When he shares his disenchantment with Elijah, the prophet explains that Messiah will only come when people will be able to follow his lead. Rabbi Yehoshua Ben Levi expects the Messiah to be a great military leader who shall liberate the Jews from Roman occupation. He doesn’t expect him to be a humble carer for the sick and the needy. Messiah, seeing Rabbi Yehoshua’s unwillingness to get involved in helping the vulnerable, realises that the world is not yet ready for the messianic age and disappears. Elijah then explains that he will return when we are ready to selflessly commit ourselves to taking care of the ones who need us the most.
Given the current restrictions on foreign travel, I think it would be difficult for most of us to travel to Rome. Nevertheless, we can follow Messiah’s example by supporting the most vulnerable in our family and community through this difficult time. We can give them a call to make them feel less lonely, do shopping for them, and help them stay connected by teaching them how to navigate Zoom and other channels of video communications.
I am convinced that this difficult time has a silver lining: it provides us with ample opportunity to follow Messiah’s example by taking care for others. I hope that, even though many of us spend so much time on Zoom these days, we will listen to the messianic call of our tradition and not put it on mute.
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