Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz – Rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Sites
A story is told about the holy Baal Shem Tov. On Simchat Torah he revealed a wondrous secret to his students: On the morning of the festival, when the angels prepared to sing their celestial song, they found the heavens filled with torn shoes—worn-out soles, broken heels. The angels were puzzled: what was the meaning of these rips and tatters?
The Archangel Michael, defender of Israel, rose and explained: “These are the shoes of the Jews who danced all night with the Torah scrolls. Their shoes were torn – but their hearts remained whole.” And from those ripped shoes Michael wove a radiant crown for the Holy One, blessed be He.
When we read this story today, in the shadow of the terrible tragedy that struck us on Simchat Torah two years ago, it is impossible not to feel the tears welling up in our eyes. But what tore through our lives were not only external events. They were also fractures in our hearts and souls. Each rupture gave rise to deep pain: the pain of brokenness, the pain of a void that cannot be filled. And such pain does not pass quickly. It accompanies us. It walks with us. It sings with us.
Yet we learn to see that every crack can also be an opening. Every fracture can also be a call. These rips do not separate us from our Father in Heaven; on the contrary, they draw us closer to Him. For it is precisely from within the brokenness that we turn to Him with our whole hearts. The rips are not only marks of deficiency. They are the raw material from which a crown of majesty is woven for God.
The Torah commands: “You shall rejoice on your festival, and you shall be only joyful.” We must understand this carefully. The joy the Torah speaks of is not superficial cheer, not a fleeting escape from reality. It is a deeper kind of joy – joy that can spring forth even from within pain, joy that grows not in spite of brokenness, but from within it.
In these last two years we have seen this joy in all its strength and beauty. The soul of our people has revealed itself in its most difficult moments: soldiers fighting bravely on the front lines; families opening homes and hearts to brothers and sisters; volunteers appearing wherever strength was needed; mothers holding entire families together with unimaginable courage; tens of thousands devoting themselves to hostages they had never met; yeshiva students turning their studies into prayers of faith and hope. These are not isolated stories. They are threads in a single fabric of an entire people. A fabric torn – yet rewoven into a crown.
Our nation has known many rips in its history: the rips of exile and dispersion, of destruction and persecution, of internal discord and bitter struggle. And yet, time and again, we have turned to God not in spite of these fractures but from within them. We did not conceal or deny them; instead, we sought the light that emerges precisely through them.
The great secret of the Jewish people has always been the ability to join rip to rip, soul to soul, until together they form a whole garment once again. This is the secret of our survival: that in our moments of brokenness we have learned that we have only one another, and that only through unity of heart can we be rebuilt anew.
Master of the Universe, may it be Your will to grant us wisdom and strength to mend the rips. Bind us to one another, bind us to the root of our souls and to Your holy Torah. Transform our pain into a crown of compassion, and our brokenness into a light of joy.
Wishing you a joyous and blessed Simchat Torah.
