When I imagine peace.
I imagine the world shaking.
And our ancestors gathering in the ancient academies of Jewish learning.
And in the midst of wailing…a pause for creating.
Then, the words of Oseh Shalom and The Aramaic memorial prayer for the dead. Mourners recite this prayer at every service, every day, in the presence of a minyan (prayer quorum) over the course of a year (for a parent) or thirty days (for a sibling or offspring). The prayer actually makes no mention of the dead, but rather prays for the sanctification and magnification of God's name. Yatom emerging like holy lights enkindling the room and repairing the breach.
As they lamented their oppression.
And envisioned their long-sought-after liberation.
They imparted to every generation:
Peace does not occur in the happy places.
It is the bursting of Jewish light.
Into our millennia-long rebellion against the intruding and lingering dark.