The Sacred Pilgrimage of Life

The Jewish metaphor for the ultimate curse is homelessness, exile, wandering in a wilderness all our lives. Blessing, then, is being in touch with out sacred center, knowing a place that we call home. On the grand scale of things, that home is Eretz Yisrael. On a lesser scale, we manufacture our own sacred places which then become our homes because they are outfitted with reminders of the larger story of our people. First and foremost are our literal homes, the houses where we live. In the backyard we build a sukah, as if we were the ancient farmers harvesting Israel's autumn crop; springtime gives us Pesach, where our very table becomes Egypt and then Exodus and then freedom. Shabbat itself begins with the Kiddush, and its gentle reminder that this day is zekher liyetsi'at mitsrayim (``a reminder of the Exodus from Egypt''). Around our walls and on our shelves stand tangible reminders of the Jewish story that we make our own --- a menorah, perhaps, or a piece of Jewish art transforming bare walls into markers of the site we now call sacred.