The soul is sent to Sheol, to Hades, to the realm of the dead. The body is laid in the ground and decays. At death, the soul is separated from the body. Psalm 16 gives us a window into what happened when people died. And not only David, but all of the saints in the Old Testament died in this way. He was laid with his fathers and saw corruption (Acts 2:29 13:36). This verse is a puzzle because of a simple fact: David died. For David, Psalm 16 contains a bit of a puzzle. We sing Psalm 16 differently than David did. You see, the people of God have not always sung the psalm in the same way. I love to sing Psalm 16, because it reminds me of one of the glories of living after Easter. Who wouldn’t love to sing lines like these? Death Comes to Us Allīut those aren’t the only reasons I love to sing this song. We rejoice with our whole being, and our flesh dwells secure (Psalm 16:9). Because of all of his goodness, our hearts are glad.
He is our lodestar - set out before us, making us unshakeable.
He is our portion and our cup (Psalm 16:5). In his presence is fullness of joy, and at his right hand are pleasures forevermore (Psalm 16:11). In fact, all the goods that are good come from the Good that is God.ĭavid celebrates the goodness of his people, brothers and sisters in the faith, in whom he delights (Psalm 16:3) the goodness of our inheritance, which he is keeping for us (Psalm 16:6) the goodness of his counsel (Psalm 16:7). The fundamental declaration is that God is our Lord and our good. I love the truth in these eleven verses.ĭavid begins, “Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge” (Psalm 16:1). I love to sing Psalm 16, because it’s a psalm of joy and gladness in God’s goodness. Happy Pesach.Or let your holy one see corruption. It will be mine – because I was a kid and everything was 10 feet taller. But that Passover grandeur and camaraderie will forever be ours. Tomorrow I’ll be asked how long our seder went.
Much of the family slept, their heads resting on folded arms at the table. We said Dayeinu, ate, sang about a goat and talked Torah until 2 a.m.īy then, most of the guests had gone home. Rabbi Tarphon and Rabbi Eleazar ben Azariah sat and learned in B’nei Brak. Been in place of “misubin.” But I had too. I’d been drinking since my bris.) I stood and sang Ma Nishtanah (the Four Questions) in Hebrew and Yiddish. And my mother made sure those who were hungry came and ate. She was the chief chef, the general, the industrial engineer navigating, and adjusting the Passover table and its place-settings, in order to squeeze one more person around the table. “Let us remember our kedoshim tonight, those Jews who courageously broke the middle matzah in Auschwitz to remember Yitziyat Mizrayim. Nor did he forget the Inquisition, the pogroms or the Jewish community leaders hanged in Iran in our times. We are they, and they are us.”Īnd he never forgot the Holocaust, even in good times. My father continued: “We are the Jewish People, and tonight Moses sits at our table and so does the sweet Jewish sexton from Kiev. My father welcomed us all to the seder: “Family, friends, once we were in Egypt. It was the opening night of the Exodus, and like Jerusalem, which expanded during the three pilgrimage festivals, so too did our home. Old ladies living alone zestful, ideological university students debating Hegel Jews and non-Jews. As a little person, I saw layers upon layers of company, some of whom were familiar, others who were newcomers, and still others who were mendicants, living on alms.įrom time to time, my elbows resented the fact they had nowhere to rest on the table, but mostly I was in wonderment at the exaggerated “space versus people” formula these holidays allowed. Indeed, if an artist were to paint it, it would look like a busier Last Supper. Nobody was ever turned away from our seder. Everyone had chosen their favourite wine-stained Haggadah. The fish heads my mother loved, stared up at us as if disappointed. Eliyahu would accept our invitation, wholeheartedly. A bulbous white pillow had been placed on my father’s armchair, waiting to be creased by his recline, and sweet and tearing Pesach smells intertwined with the aromas of the rest of year.
The chandelier on the ceiling in the dining room illuminated the table and its finery.
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