From the Closed Gate toward the Open Roof - Between N'ilah and Sukkot
Daily online meditation with the Institute for Jewish Spirituality and Cantor Kerith Spencer-Shapiro
Blessing for The Interim Time
John O’Donohue
When near the end of day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things,
No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might come.
In this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a while it will be night, but nothing
Here seems to believe the relief of darkness.
You are in this time of the interim
Where everything seems withheld.
The path you took to get here has washed out;
The way forward is still concealed from you.
The old is not old enough to have died away;
The new is still too young to be born.”
You cannot lay claim to anything;
In this place of dusk,
Your eyes are blurred;
And there is no mirror.
Everyone else has lost sight of your heart
And you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You know you have to make your own way through.
As far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do not allow confusion to squander
This call which is loosening
Your roots in false ground,
That you might come free
From all you have outgrown.
What is being transfigured here in your mind,
And it is difficult and slow to become new.
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become
For your arrival in the new dawn.
from: “To Bless the Space Between Us” by John O’Donohue. Pub in 2008 by Doubleday.

אֵימָתַי הִיא נְעִילָה רַבָּנָן דְּקֵיסָרִין אָמְרִין אִיתְפַּלְּגוּן רַב וְרִבִּי יוֹחָנָן. רַב אָמַר בִּנְעִילַת שַׁעֲרֵי שָׁמַיִם. וְרִבִּי יוֹחָנָן אָמַר בִּנְעִילַת שַׁעֲרֵי הֵיכָל. אֲמַר רִבִּי יוּדָן [אַנְתּוֹרְדָּיָא] מַתְנִיתָא מְסַיְיעָא לְרִבִּי יוֹחָנָן. בִּשְׁלָשָׁה פְרָקִים הַכֹּהֲנִים נוֹשְׂאִין אֶת כַּפֵּיהֶם אַרְבַּע פְּעָמִים בַּיּוֹם. בְּשַׁחֲרִית. בְּמוּסָף. בְּמִנְחָה. וּבִנְעִילַת שְׁעָרִים. בְּתַעֲנִיּוֹת. וּבְמַעֲמָדוֹת. וּבְיוֹם הַכִּיפּוּרִים. אִית לָךְ מֵימָר נְעִילַת שַׁעֲרֵי שָׁמַיִם בַּיּוֹם.

When is Neïlah? The rabbis of Caesarea say: Rav and Rebbi Yoḥanan disagree. Rav said, when the gates of Heaven are locked. And Rebbi Yoḥanan said, when the gates of the Temple are locked. Rebbi Yudan Antordaya said: A Mishnah supports Rebbi Yoḥanan (Taäniot 4:1): “On three occasions do the Cohanim lift their hands four times in one day, mornings, Musaph, Minḥah, and at the locking of the gates: on fastdays, at support services, and on Yom Kippur. May you say that the gates of heaven are locked while it is still daytime?

P'tach Lanu Sha'ar - from the N'ilah Liturgy
פְּתַח לָֽנוּ שַֽׁעַר. בְּעֵת נְעִֽילַת שַֽׁעַר. כִּי פָנָה יוֹם:
Open for us the gate [of prayer] at the time of closing the gate for the day has declined.
הַיּוֹם יִפְנֶה. הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ יָבֹא וְיִפְנֶה. נָבֽוֹאָה שְׁעָרֶֽיךָ:
The day declines, the sun goes down and declines, let us [yet] enter Your gates.
אָנָּא אֵל נָא. שָׂא נָא. סְלַח נָא. מְחַל נָא. חֲמָל־נָא. רַחֶם־נָא. כַּפֶּר־נָא. כְּבוֹשׁ חֵטְא וְעָו‍ֹן.
Please Almighty, we beseech You, please bear [with] us, please pardon us, please forgive us, please have pity, please have compassion, please atone, suppress [our] sin and iniquity.

זֶה הַכְּלָל: כׇּל דָּבָר שֶׁמְּקַבֵּל טוּמְאָה כּוּ׳. מְנָא הָנֵי מִילֵּי? אָמַר רֵישׁ לָקִישׁ, אָמַר קְרָא: ״וְאֵד יַעֲלֶה מִן הָאָרֶץ״. מָה אֵד — דָּבָר שֶׁאֵינוֹ מְקַבֵּל טוּמְאָה וְגִידּוּלוֹ מִן הָאָרֶץ, אַף סוּכָּה — דָּבָר שֶׁאֵין מְקַבֵּל טוּמְאָה וְגִידּוּלוֹ מִן הָאָרֶץ. הָנִיחָא לְמַאן דְּאָמַר עַנְנֵי כָבוֹד הָיוּ. אֶלָּא לְמַאן דְּאָמַר סוּכּוֹת מַמָּשׁ עָשׂוּ לָהֶם, מַאי אִיכָּא לְמֵימַר? דְּתַנְיָא: ״כִּי בַסּוּכּוֹת הוֹשַׁבְתִּי אֶת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל״, עַנְנֵי כָבוֹד הָיוּ, דִּבְרֵי רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר. רַבִּי עֲקִיבָא אוֹמֵר: סוּכּוֹת מַמָּשׁ עָשׂוּ לָהֶם. הָנִיחָא לְרַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר, אֶלָּא לְרַבִּי עֲקִיבָא מַאי אִיכָּא לְמֵימַר?

§ We learned in the mishna: This is the principle with regard to the roofing of a sukka: One may not roof the sukka with anything that is susceptible to ritual impurity or whose growth is not from the ground. The Gemara asks: From where are these matters with regard to the roofing of a sukka derived? Reish Lakish said that the verse states: “And there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the entire face of the ground” (Genesis 2:6); just as mist, i.e., a cloud, is a substance not capable of contracting ritual impurity, and its growth is from the ground, i.e., arises from the ground, so too, the roofing of the sukka must consist of a substance that is not susceptible to ritual impurity and its growth is from the ground. Since the mitzva of sukka evokes the clouds of glory with which God enveloped the Israelites in the desert, the legal status of roofing should be like that of a cloud. The Gemara asks: This works out well according to the one who said that the sukkot mentioned in the verse: “I made the children of Israel to reside in sukkot” (Leviticus 23:43), were clouds of glory, as it is reasonable that the roofing of the sukka is modeled after clouds. However, according to the one who said that the children of Israel established for themselves actual sukkot in the desert, and the sukkot of today commemorate those, what can be said? According to that opinion, there is no connection between a sukka and a cloud. As it is taught in a baraita that the verse states: “I made the children of Israel to reside in sukkot”; these booths were clouds of glory, this is the statement of Rabbi Eliezer. Rabbi Akiva says: They established for themselves actual sukkot. This works out well according to Rabbi Eliezer; however, according to Rabbi Akiva what can be said?

Clouds
Denise Levertov
The clouds as I see them, rising
urgently, roseate in the
mounting of somber power
surging in evening haste over
roofs and hermetic
grim walls—
Last night
as if death had lit a pale light
in your flesh, your flesh
was cold to my touch, or not cold
but cool, cooling, as if the last traces
of warmth were still fading in you.
My thigh burned in cold fear where
yours touched it.
But I forced to mind my vision of a sky
close and enclosed, unlike the space in which these clouds move—
a sky of gray mist it appeared—
and how looking intently at it we saw
its gray was not gray but a milky white
in which radiant traces of opal greens,
fiery blues, gleamed, faded, gleamed again,
and how only then, seeing the color in the gray,
a field sprang into sight, extending
between where we stood and the horizon,
a field of freshest deep spiring grass
starred with dandelions,
green and gold
gold and green alternating in closewoven
chords, madrigal field.
Is death’s chill that visited our bed
other than what it seemed, is it
a gray to be watched keenly?
Wiping my glasses and leaning westward,
clearing my mind of the day’s mist and leaning
into myself to see
the colors of truth
I watch the clouds as I see them
in pomp advancing, pursuing
the fallen sun.