Holy Flimsiness and the Kabbalah of Linguistic Dissonance

What a trip this has been. The build-up of spiritual connectivity has been gradual, beginning with Rosh Hashanah, gaining steam through the "Ten Days of Teshuva/repentance" (between RH and YK) and reaching its zenith on Yom Kippur. Total rush. So much so that this Shabbat can feel slightly disorienting. Where are we spiritually in the existential scheme of things?

The poetic opening line of this week's Shabbat Torah portion is helpful. "The Heavens listen to me speak and the Earth hears the words of my mouth." While this is obviously referring to the speech and words of G-d, it alludes to a multidirectional sounding of the human voice as well. The Divine settings favoring human earthly behavior, albeit directed by a divine and heavenly ethos, is not an arbitrary divine quirk. As far as preferences go, it is essential. Judaism is not about nomadic asceticism and disengagement. That's why we only do YK once a year. Perhaps this explains the strangely equal emphasis placed on enjoying lavish meals before and after a day of holiness, equal if not more so to the focus placed on the fasting and holiness ambiance itself.

We are indeed multilingual creatures in that Judaism asks us to gain fluency in the language of multiple realms. The vertical Yom Kippur-esque language of the heavens and the Sukkoth-based proficiency in the horizontal language of earth. The space between Yom Kippur and Sukkot encompasses the same span. We are asked to imagine standing at the entranceway to heaven, sending forth our inner High Priest envoy into the Kodesh Hakadashim, the Holy of Holies, and immediately afterwards to anticipate and prep for seven days of earthly worship in the great outdoors under the flimsiness and impermanence of our rickety Sukkahs.

This week's Torah portion beautifully captures the poetry and the irony of that sublime, down-to-earth holy dissonance.