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December 6, 2024
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Linking Northern and Central NJ, Bronx, Manhattan, Westchester and CT

The Holy Mountain: A Poem for Parshat Chayei Sarah

We ascended that mountain when I was young,

I was told it’s a holy place,

Since my youth, my parents claimed,

It was where one could encounter God’s face.

 

They said holy priests are there,

“Will I see them?” I naively asked,

They said, “No, I’m afraid the service of those priests,”

Is already in the past.

 

You mean, I won’t see them like I do each day,

Covered in a tallit as the congregation they bless?

I won’t see them offering sacrifices,

Adorned in their unique sort of dress?

 

These are different priests, they said,

Whose uniform is not the same,

And this mountain is not Har Hamoriah,

But one that has a different name.

 

This mountain too is in Jerusalem,

But behind a forest to the West,

But just as the Kohanim you speak of,

Through these, our nation has been blessed.

 

Don’t get me wrong my child, Har Hamoriah,

Is a place we continue to revere,

There still may be a mitzvah nowadays,

To ascend three times a year.

 

Its sanctity is eternal,

Remaining from Avraham’s time,

But the kedusha here is unique,

On this mountain together we climb.

 

We’ve almost completed our ascent,

My child, to our destination we will soon arrive,

I looked in the distance and exclaimed in my distress,

 

But these people are no longer alive,

Why are we visiting a cemetery and who are the priests,

In a panic, I began to yell,

Are we not visiting a mountain of holy people,

Is what I recall you did tell.

 

A holy cemetery is not difficult to find,

In this country there are many a holy grave,

If you wanted to visit the righteous,

Why not visit the Machpelah cave?

 

We can pray by the most righteous of all,

Avot and Imahot with their stellar reputation,

A place from which through the generations,

Our people drew inspiration.

In fact, its character is not just its inhabitants,

But also its purchase sacrifice,

Efron exacted from Avraham,

Quite an exorbitant price.

 

Four-hundred silver shekels,

The equivalent of hundreds of thousands of today,

What was the motivation Avraham had,

For a cave so much he was willing to pay?

 

But Avraham paid little attention,

To the truly outrageous cost,

He knew the sacrifice had to be made,

To ensure his land wouldn’t be lost.

 

In addition, perhaps the number 400,

Avraham unknowingly prophesied,

Would foreshadow and encourage a future,

Filled with Jewish pride.

 

Yes, 400 would be the magic number,

Yaakov would avert Esav’s army of 400 men.

The redemption from Egypt after 400 years,

Is where we encounter that number again.

 

It also happens to be the number of parasangs,

When we measure the land of Israel,

And so it’s a number that represents protection and redemption,

And, thus, with its magic Avraham struck a deal.

 

And so I ask, why do we visit this mountain?

The righteous reside in Chevron!

Will we not visit the Machpelah cave?

For fear of the car getting hit with a stone?

 

My child, this mountain, we call “Har Herzl,”

And has a holiness like none other,

People come here occasionally to visit,

Their sister or their brother.

 

Or mother, father, son, daughter or spouse,

Immeasurable is the pain,

When visiting these righteous people,

Composure one cannot maintain.

 

With each and every visit,

There is a new flow of tears,

And the numerous wounds do not close,

Despite the many years.

 

These are the priests and the righteous,

About whom we did speak,

It is from the heroic actions of these Jews,

Inspiration you should seek.

It is due to their strength and courage,

Over the years, that we survive,

Their sacrifice serves as the foundation,

Upon which our nation continues to thrive.

 

Pray at the graves with intensity,

Of the famous 35 of Kfar Etzion,

Or the grave of many soldiers,

Who arrived in Israel all alone.

Having no family, yet determined to fight,

 

They left their place of birth,

They called it their holy mission,

A sacrifice, only God can determine its worth.

 

And so I was captivated, transformed,

By the thousands of monuments I saw there,

And like so many others visiting,

I offered my personal prayer.

 

I realized I was in the presence of

The heroes of our nation

And as I looked far and near

I did so with profound admiration

 

So many of the monuments with dates,

Of ’48 and ’67,

So many, during those years,

Returned their pure souls up to heaven.

 

The years ’73 and ’82,

Many of the fallen only 18 years young,

Lives yet to be lived,

Songs yet to be sung.

 

And now, 12 years later,

To this same place, I have returned,

I, too, have the privilege,

A permanent residence, I have earned.

 

It was a busy night of burials but, finally,

Dirt too covered my Aron,

It was the kindness of a female soldier from Teaneck,

Whose all night digging gave us our kavod acharon.

 

I am proud to have joined all these heroes,

With the constant visitors, I’ll never be alone,

In addition, I, together with these righteous,

Are in close proximity to God’s throne.

 

Avraham and Sarah thanked me,

For protecting their people as a soldier so brave,

You’ve ascended the holy mountain they declare,

Even more holy than our Machpelah cave.


Rabbi Ezra Weiner, former Teaneck resident, made aliyah this summer.

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