Afterword

Jewish History Month After Month After Month

Kiddush Levanah is one of the many testimonies that show a symbiotic relationship between the Jewish nation and the moon. Just as the moon reflects the light of the sun, so too do we reflect the light of Hashem and His Torah. And, just as the moon waxes and wanes, so too the fortunes of the Jewish nation wax and wane. For fifteen days, the moon waxes, until it reaches its fullest size, and then for fifteen days it wanes, finally disappearing from view. And, then, the entire cycle begins anew.

In spiritual terms, Avraham Avinu represents the very nascent beginnings of the Jewish nation. In symbolic terms, Avraham Avinu represents the “birth” of the new moon. The Midrash (Ber. Rabbah 42) relates that Avraham was given the title “haIvri” because he was different from the entire world. The word “ivri” comes from the Hebrew word “eiver – the other side.” Avraham, being the very first person to come to the realization by himself that there is only One G-d, stood on the other side to everyone else when he began the process of revealing Hashem’s Majesty to the world.

As each generation became more familiar with the concept of Monotheism, Hashem’s Majesty grew in the world. This continued until fifteen generations after Avraham began reflecting Hashem’s light onto the world, when Shlomo HaMelech built the magnificent Holy Temple. He created an edifice that reflected the purity of Hashem’s light and His Torah to the entire world. It bathed the earth in the most vivid light ever experienced. For fifteen generations, beginning with Avraham Avinu, the “moon” waxed until it reached its peak with the building of the First Temple. Never since has there been such a clear manifestation of purity in the world. And then fifteen generations later, darkness descended on the world when Shlomo HaMelech’s exquisite Holy Temple was destroyed, and the Jewish People were sent into exile.

Just like the Jewish nation, the moon is in a constant state of flux, growing and shrinking, appearing and disappearing. At times, casting light into the dark and inhospitable night sky. And, at times, leaving us wrapped in seemingly never-ending darkness. And then the whole cycle begins again. As the light of the moon fades and leaves us in darkness yet again, Hashem is calling out to His beloved nation, “Don’t despair!” There have been too many moments in Jewish history when it looked so frighteningly dark, and the future looked even darker. Yet, paradoxically, it is the darkest moments of Jewish history that herald in renewal. Just as it seems as if the darkness will never dissipate, a new light reveals itself to warm us and bring us life.

And so, each month we pour out our hearts to our Father in Heaven, praying that the world merits to once again experience the true light. We ask from Hashem, that we, His Chosen nation, should not need to experience any more darkness. This is just as we request every morning in the first blessing before the Shema, “Ohr chadash al Tzion ta’ihr v’nizkeh kulanu meheirah le’ohro – May You shine a new light on Tzion, and may we all speedily merit its light.”

Please allow me to end this series on Kiddush Levanah with a story that encapsulates the determination of each Jew to do what Hashem wants us to do – even when it may be oh-so difficult to do so.

The long winter nights metaphorically describe the seemingly endless exile that we are in. There are many occasions in the heart of the winter when even the moon doesn’t seem to be able to penetrate the thick darkness. To step outside on such inhospitable nights can be daunting. However, if Kiddush Levanah needs to be recited, that is what one needs to do. A Jew from Monsey found himself facing a “Kiddush Levanah conundrum.” It was the month of Tevet, in the heart of the winter. The entire beginning of the month had been overcast, with no signs of the moon at all. And now it was the last night that Kiddush Levanah could be recited that month. Unwilling to let Kiddush Levanah slip through his fingers, he got into his car and began driving northbound on Route 17. He pulled off at Exit 110 and looked upward, and, lo-and-behold, there was the moon, as clear as can be! He parked his car, jumped out and started reciting Kiddush Levanah. When he was in the middle, he heard the sound of an engine. A car pulled up behind his car, and another Jew emerged, Siddur in hand, and he also began reciting Kiddush Levanah. Soon, another car pulled up, then another, and then another. Within a short time, there were at least twenty(!) Jews standing underneath a star-filled sky and a translucent moon. Together, they all recited the beautiful and poignant words of Kiddush Levanah. And then they all joined hands and danced together – in the middle of nowhere – in a joyous circle.

Fulfilling the enchantingly poignant words of the blessing, “Sasim u’smeichim la’asot retzon Konam – joyous and glad to perform the Will of their Owner!”