It’s a question that goes right to the heart of how we remember – and how we live a life connected to something bigger than ourselves.
Let’s dive into a story. A story that begins with a broken Sabbath and ends with a tangible reminder woven into the very fabric of our lives.
The Legends of the Jews tells us that there was once a man who desecrated the Sabbath. A pretty serious thing. But how did it happen? GOD, in this telling, asks MOSES, "Do you know how it came to pass that this man broke the Sabbath?"
Moses, ever humble, replies, "I do not know."
And GOD explains: "On week days he wore tefillin – phylacteries – on his head and arm to remind him of his duties. But on the Sabbath, when tefillin are not worn, he had nothing to call his duties to mind, and he broke the Sabbath."
Think about that for a second. The very tools he used to remember GOD's commandments during the week were absent on the Sabbath. So, what was to be done?
GOD then commissions MOSES with a crucial task: "Go now, MOSES, and find for Israel a commandment the observance of which is not limited to week days only, but which will influence them on Sabbath days and on holy days as well."
This is where the zizit come in. According to this legend, MOSES selected the commandment of zizit – the fringes worn on the corners of a garment. The idea being that simply seeing the zizit would constantly remind the Israelites of ALL the commandments of GOD.
It's a beautiful idea, isn't it? That a single, visible act can trigger a cascade of remembrance, drawing us back to our obligations and our connection to the divine.
So, what can we take away from this? Perhaps it's a reminder that our spiritual practice isn't confined to specific times or places. It's a continuous thread woven into the tapestry of our daily lives. A constant, subtle reminder of who we are and what we strive to be. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the whole point.