Questioning faith in the parsha
People die but not relationships
Another, I think later, text by Yehuda Amichai opens one more window on this morning’s discussion:
My father’s memorial day
On my father’s memorial day
I went out to see his mates –
All those buried with him in one row,
His life’s graduation class.
I already remember most of their names,
Like a parent collecting his little son
From school, all of his friends.
My father still loves me, and I
love him always, so I don’t weep.
But in order to do justice to this place
I have lit a weeping in my eyes
With the help of a nearby grave –
A child’s. “Our little Yossy, who was
Four when he died.”
“My father still loves me, and I/ love him always, so I don’t weep”. So it was that Jacob was gathered to his people and Israel continued to live. But we weep for the little boy, we weep for what did not flower.