As threads of my soul, Israel has been integral to my prayers for so long, time has little meaning. This association with Idolatrous Hate is a weight on my soul, dragging my spirit down. All these suffocating attacks on people of good-will and family members who see the beloved hope of the family destined to grow up and do great things, going off the rails: Hanging around with a bad crowd as my avatar and his ilk.
Acting in strange ways by giving friendly ambassadors low-chair wedgies. Vandalizing the neighborhood trees. Saying it’s OK to kill by who than what has been done. Throwing Code-word spitballs at relatives who don’t know they don’t have permission to speak.
Praying for the return of King Saul, marketed as an interim monarch pending Moshiach.
For a long time, family members will try to reason. Maybe have a friend organize an intervention. Then, even after everybody’s been effectively shut up and shut down, keeping the faith, they still come when called, mortgaging their own future to make bail. After the young phenom’s determined career is clear, that we must all trust for our retirement, we’re still family, for good or ill. Nobody’s going to disown, or file for divorce. Or move out. Collections, bills will be paid as before. On the surface, the waters are calm. Not a ripple.
There’s trouble in the engine-room of my journeys, My Prayers. I wondered where this association with haters would lead within me. Before, the manifold came up, all systems go online ready, Captain. I’m trying to make full power in My Prayers, but an injection of the conscious into my subconscious by my conscience is pulling me down.
The world below is as ever, stars and weather the same.
Eventually, the prayers start changing, as pure water polluted by something else: Fear of haters by a hater of fear. Not a conscious intentional change, but an awareness of something foreign alien unwelcome. My soul’s afflicted by this man-as deity must agree to an addendum association, of my immiscible prayers to the Idolatry of Hate.
So, naturally, I double down on My Prayers. Shocked and knocked down Low. As you gave yourself a heter to Hate I gave myself a heter from keeping quiet in go along to get along by saying aloud the Virtue of stopping the noise of words that ‘bring the devil into’ our hearts by drowning out messages in Chosen that we don’t choose to remember.
An expedient heter to do business with Idolaters does not extend to becoming the Idolaters of Hate they are. I pray for Israel all day, but not for things. I can’t pray for Hate.
An expedient heter to kill innocent gentiles as livestock does not undo five thousand seven hundred years of becoming in egalitarian yetzer tov for humanity.