בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים
Blessed be H’, Rekindler of the Extinguished
There are times when the fires of spirit seem to grow cold, when fervor abates, prayers become wooden and devotions routine.
All this is natural, and is as much part of the inner life as the cycles of day and night, new moons and old, summer and winter are features of the celestial planes.
But there is a difference. Our minds can comprehend the rhythms of the external world, and our senses let us follow their ebbs and flows. When the hours after midnight seem black and long, we glance at our watches, and yes, just ninety minutes till the first glimmering of dawn; when the waning crescent moon disappears in the east, the almanac will tell us when to expect its return in the west; in the depths of winter we can often smell the approach of spring.
What aids us, though, if the very Face of H grows faint and dim? And if the glowing embers of Presence flicker out and die, what assurance is there that that dark emptiness will ever end? Who has not experienced fear of an everlasting loss of Spirit?
In fact, terror of the endless eclipse of God can prepare us for renewal. Daily we acknowledge the name of H’ as “Rekindler of the Extinguished.*” When we call from the place of no-spirit, it is precisely there that the Glory is manifest again, and a great mystery is revealed: H’ resides hidden within its own absence.
“There is no place without H’.“
[* Symbolic interpretation of the prayer for the resurrection of the dead.]