NO GREATER JOY

 

By Susan Diamond

I am unmarried. Loved by my family, yet to be loved by a husband. It all changes tomorrow, the month of Av on the 15th day in the land of Jerusalem.

I come from the tribe of Dan. You may know the story of my people. We are descendants of Abraham. Just one of twelve tribes who left Egypt to follow Moses as he led us to our new home.

We were a disobedient lot, testing God, losing faith, and doubting. So many doubts about the promises and the Promised Land waiting for us at the end of our journey.

And so, instead of taking God’s Word, Moses relents to our people’s demands. He sends twelve men, one from each tribe to scout out the land and report back. Ten of these spies bring back tales of woe. Two come bearing sweet treats from our future homeland and assurances, with God’s help, we will succeed and prosper.

You may know the rest of the story. God was not pleased with us. He made us wander in the desert for forty years until nearly an entire generation dies out. God allows only two men from the original group of twelve to enter the new land; Joshua and Caleb, the two spies bearing good news and faith in God.

Even our holiest most venerable leader, the humble Moses, was laid to rest in the desert, never stepping foot in the land of milk and honey.

By the grace of God, that’s where I live today. We have fields of plenty, bearing fruits of all species. Though we work hard, we are a happy lot.

There is no greater joy than having one’s sins forgiven. That’s exactly what happened to us after our epic failure of faith.

Every summer there is a festival. We honor God’s grace and forgiveness shown to us after the episode of the spies, and other historical events in which our people lost faith and were forgiven.

I am beyond myself with excitement, waiting for the dawn of the new day. Tomorrow I will join my sisters from all over Samaria to celebrate and participate in Tu b’Av, Festival of Love, where my husband waits for me.

Daybreak in the vineyards. The grapes are heavy with dew and the sun is a thin orange line low in the horizon.

We all wear white. We exchange dresses one young girl to the next until there is delightful confusion as to which one is the daughter of a poor man and who has a father fat and wealthy...READ MORE