I left my office on Tuesday afternoon, March 29, at around 13:30. I picked up & dropped off hitchhikers along the way. I always make it a point to pick up hitchhikers & give people rides. I figure that if I do good with the car, then perhaps Shema will bless me as I drive it. Driving through Hawara was absolutely fine. We even got stuck in slow traffic; nobody even looked at us.
I drove up past Har Bracha & through Kiryat Luza to the gate at the national park. I saw men cleaning the area around the Pesach pits (it breaks my heart to see garbage & litter in that holy place!) & getting it ready for the great offering. I used my annual Parks and Nature Authority pass to enter. I couldn't go to the holy places right away as I had some work to do on the computer. I did that, put the laptop back in the car & walked out on the Mountain. It was windy & chill but I didn't mind. I was the only person there which was just as good. I looked down at Kiryat Luza and at Har Bracha, looking at both but actually in neither. I thought, how appropriate! As much as I try to learn about the Israelite Samaritans (including the IS version of the Torah) & talk to my IS friend, I know that I will, in all likelihood, never be one of them. I will always be the literal outsider looking in. And Har Bracha (which might as well be our entirely religious neighborhood)? I'm not at home there either. There I'm the figurative outsider looking out. I never felt so alone. I went to Givat Olam, took off my shoes and socks, opened the fence (how symbolic! I, the rabbinic Jew, opening the fence!) and walked out on the bare rock. I wanted to feel the rock with my feet. I lay down flat on Givat Olam (I wanted to feel the rock on my face and my hands) and prayed for the day when I can go to Aargareezem openly & not have to steal away on furtive visits. I also prayed that Shema should please, until that day comes, grant me some sort of equilibrium.
I stood up, walked around some more, then knelt & lay flat and prayed some more. I left Givat Olam (closing the gate, I won't say "fence"!) and walked out to the wooden deck overlooking Mt. Eval & Nablus down below. Before leaving I went to the Altar of Yesaahq & walked down & around & stood in front of it for a good while, awestruck, trying to imagine Yesaahq stretched out on there with Abraahm ready to do Shema's bidding. But then it was time to go & I went back to the car. I know that there are the other holy places on the Mountain and one day I will ask my IS friend to show them to me but for now it is Givat Olam & the Altar of Yesaahq that draw me.
The drive back through Hawara was equally uneventful. I picked up & dropped off more hitchhikers on the way home.
I wrote the following verse:
Furtive visits, snatched on the sly;
time too short, til the next visit good-bye.
Until then the Holy Mountain I see
must remain hidden deep within me.
I thought/think about receiving the High Priest's blessing, which is very comforting, and a great source of strength, to me.
Our youngest son (15) once expressed an interest in coming to see the Pesach offering. He wants to see the shechita and preparation of the lambs & lowering them into the blazing pits. He hasn't brought up the idea lately. I hope he has forgotten about it. I really would prefer not to see the ceremony again, once was enough. To see it again as an observer, a spectator, and not experience it as a participant, would be heart-rending. I also see that the Israel Nature and Parks Authority will be having the usual activities but I that isn't how I want to come to the Mountain. All the visitors might think it odd to see me praying at the various holy sites.
I see that the Israelite Samaritan and Jewish counting of the Omer will coincide this year. We will both start on Saturday evening April 23/Sunday April 24. I can count with my Jewish friends & neighbors and none of them will realize that I'm really counting according to the Israelite Samaritan understanding of "from the morrow of the Sabbath". Where better to hide than in plain sight?
On another note. On the Shabbat before Purim, the rabbi at our shul spoke as he usually does & mentioned Haman in the course of his remarks and added that Haman was an Amalekite. His adorable four year old son piped up & said that the King of Arad was an Amalekite. I looked up the King of Arad (Numbers 21:1-3 and saw that Rashi says that he was indeed an Amalekite even though the actual text says nothing of the kind and describes him as a "Canaanite" who "lived in the South." Rashi cites various midrashic sources to the effect that these descriptions don't mean what they say and that the King of Arad really was an Amalekite. I think this is another example of the rabbis playing around with the plain and simple meaning of the actual text to make it say what they want it to say. What if the text actually means what it says & not what rabbinic sophistry says it says? There's a thought.
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