The Network is Down and Grandpa is in Me - Tesaveh

 Its 11AM Thursday morning and I amdriving back to Manhattan. I came to Brooklyn this morning to make threecondolence calls, but since I left my house early this morning, I have had nocell service. I have no Waze, so I am not sure how long the drive will be and Ican’t listen to any classes, so I am hoping with the help of Siri, to get ajump on this week’s article.     This lack of connection and how, inthese few short hours, I have beendealing with the loss of my phone reminded me of the words of the Ohr HaChaimHaKadosh on the opening verse of this week’s portion.     “Shemot Rabbah 52,2 relates that thescoffers amongst the Jews ridiculed the idea that Hashem would take upresidence in a structure made by Moses. From this we see that not only did theGentiles not credit the idea that the G-d of the Heavens had come down toearth, but even some of the Jews could not believe this. Accordingly, eventhough it was evident that Hashem's presence was indeed in the Tabernacle onthe first day of Nissan, the day the Tabernacle had been erected, they did notconsider this as evidence that Hashem's presence would remain there on apermanent basis.      “Once they observed the ongoing miracleof the Western Lamp, (need to pause here to explain)      The Gemara (Shabbat 22b) says that theNer Tamid spoken of in the Torah, is referring to the ner ma’aravi — thewestern lamp — of the Menorah. It served as a testimony for all mankind thatthe Divine Presence dwells among the Jewish people.     The uniqueness of the western lamp wasthat the Kohen always put into it half a lug of oil, the same amount of oil aswas put into each of the other six lamps (half a lug = 5 ½ oz.). This wassufficient to last for the longest nights of Tevet, and yet it outburned allthe candles.     They all burned the entire night andwould extinguish in the early morning. In the summer, when the nights areshorter, they would burn into the morning hours. After they went out in themorning, the lamps would be cleaned out and fresh oil and new wicks would beplaced in them. This service was known as “hatavat haMenorah” — “making good” —i.e. preparing the Menorah for kindling. The candles would not be lit againuntil the late afternoon. The western candle, however, continued burning theentire day until it was time to kindle the Menorah again in the evening.     This miraculous uninterrupted burning ofthe western lamp went on all the years of the first Beit Hamikdash, and servedas a testimony for Hashem’s presence in Israel. The western light continued toremain lit during the forty years that Shimon HaTzaddik was Kohen Gadol duringthe early years of the second Beit Hamikdash.       The Ohr HaChaim continues … “this servedas testimony that Hashem's presence was there to stay.      “The Torah impressed upon Moses that theoil for the Menorah in the Tabernacle would become the vehicle by means ofwhich Hahsem’s presence in the Mishkan/Mikdash would be demonstrated when the'eternal flame' would be lit.”     I thought to myself, we have bars on thephone to indicate connection, while they had this flame on the menorah toindicate connection with Heaven above. So, what went through their minds whenthe flame went out?      Must be a mistake! Must be something Idid wrong? Maybe we need a reset?     When I got in the car, in the wee hourswhile it was still dark outside and entered the address in Waze, I noticed the phonehad no service. Sometimes this happens, so I put the phone into airplane modeand then back to standard mode, causing it to search for a signal. It searchedbut found nothing. Instead of any reception lines, there was simply an SOS inthe upper right-hand corner.      So, I decided to reboot the phone, andwhen I turned it back on, fully expected to see that I had service, but Ididn’t. Still sitting in that upper right-hand corner was SOS. (The universalsignal of distress!)      I went into settings and tried to see ifanything was amiss and then I wondered if perhaps AT&T was down. I thoughtthat was unlikely as all the other cars were driving and I noticed Waze runningon their screens within their windshield holders.      Heaven doesn’t break the connection. Itmust be me. Perhaps AT&T could be down in Atlantic Beach, but over thebridge it would re-connect. That’s what I thought and it didn’t.      As it was very early, I decided to stopat the Keli Mikveh as I had some things in the trunk to dip. I turned the phoneoff again while my hand froze as I dipped a frying pan, some glasses, andwhatever else Chantelle packed into the bag. And I wondered if when I got backin the car, the phone would work. Maybe the zechut of dipping the dishes wouldfix things.     It didn’t and so I accepted that mostprobably it was either a virus infecting the phone, a messed-up setting or anissue with my internal antenna. I needed an AT&T store to help.      When you first find that you’redisconnected, you panic. Is it me? Is it them? What if someone wants to reachme? I am expected to be connected always. Now I am not! Is there a pay phone. Iactually looked for one on street corners, in the gas stations, and on the BeltParkway. I had a quarter! And I was hoping to at least call someone and havethem text the groups to tell them that my phone was out and I was unavailableso that no one would worry. But there are no payphones anymore.     Later on, driving on Coney IslandAvenue, I spotted a cell phone store and pulled in front. Maybe they open at8AM? No, they don’t open until 10 AM.     At the second house, I thought to borrowa phone. But it was pretty much me and the family in mourning. So, I didn’tbother. As I got back in the car, not having removed the phone from itsholster, I thought about how at first, I panicked, and I felt so lost without aconnected phone and without Waze, and without being able to look up where I wasgoing, or to let anyone know where I was in a day and age when people worry ifthey are out of touch for even a moment. That initial panic gradually led to afeeling of being anxious which lessened to a feeling of concern, and finally acceptance.I said that Hashem disconnected me. It is what it is.     Sitting in the car, I said to myself,one more stop, one more misvah, (and at each visit, I realized that without aphone, I was more focused and felt that the person or people I came to visitdid more for me than I did for them) and I’ll be in the city by noon and I’llstop into the office and then I’ll go around the corner to AT&T and theywill fix it.     I wondered if this is what happened withbenai Yisrael. The candle goes out. The line is dead. Is it a mistake? Can wereboot? Can we light it again. And between the end of the First Temple and the beginningof the second, we did. Maybe there weren’t as many bars in the second temple,but there was steady connection for forty years and then not so steady aconnection.     And then the Greeks came and the lightwent out again. At first, we went through the steps. It must be something onour end. Reboot! Relight. Do something. But all we got was SOS. Until theMacabees showed up. But then the Romans came and poof!      I imagine that as we turned off ourconnection whenever we felt like it, Hashem finally reacted in kind and shutdown the system. The light of the Menorah went out. The bars went out. It wasSOS,      And maybe we, as a people, went frompanic, to being anxious, to being concerned and finally acceptance. And thetragedy I thought, is that with acceptance, we steadily forget what we lost. Wedon’t even realize what it was to have the phone. We go back to the pay phone,to the maps, to the messages, to the answering services, the beepers, theoperators, the telex machine, and the messengers. (If you are sharing this withfamily, you’ll have some explaining to do). We don’t even remember what it was like tohave that always open, clear and direct connect.     And as I finished dictating this to Siri,the strangest thing happened as I was moving from the Prospect Expressway upthe ramp onto the Gowanus leading to the tunnel, bars lit up, messages startedcoming in and service was back. What happened, I wondered?      I made a call to the office, but becamedisconnected after a few seconds. I tried texting, but then the phone went backto SOS. Was it really my phone or was it AT&T? Do I need to go to the phonestore. And with the service out again, I couldn’t figure anything out. Strangepuzzle!      There was a connection, however brief,reminding me that potentially the system worked. Was that like the littlemiracles we see in life? Was that like the reminders Hashem sends us, tellingus, “I am here, I am with you!”? Do we too easily forget those reminders?      Coming out of the tunnel and headingonto the FDR, service returned. I noticed on the family chat, a note explainingthat AT&T was down all across the country and was gradually coming back.     What happened? No one knew yet. And whatwould happen if everyone disconnected? Today the Greeks and the Romans are notthe tools, would it be the Russians or the Chinese? Scary!      But for a brief moment I understood whatthe light of the menorah meant. When it was on, we were connected and when itshut off, we were in a panic of SOS.      The verse ends with the words, NerTamid, everlasting light, and I as I made my way towards the office withservice going on and off, I prayed that we would be zocheh to all see that NerTamid, lit speedily in our days, in the Bet HaMikdash, Bimherah BeYameynu,Amen!      Shabbat Shalom     David Bibi