Joy and sorrow, birth and death, creation and destruction—these opposites are bound together; one is not possible without its antithesis. All too often does joy come attended by sorrow—Purim is the great example of a “redemption” that is tempered by ongoing exile, of a victory which leaves the victor debased in his resemblance of his drunken oppressors. It is a joyous sorrow or a saddened joy—neither a tragedy nor a clean escape. As we turn back to the Torah cycle, the pairing of joy and sorrow will be a recurrent theme.
The number seven is symbolic in both directions—seven days are dedicated to celebrate a marriage, and seven to mourn a death. Seven are the days of creation in Genesis, and seven are the days of dedication of the priesthood at the end of Parashat Tzav. The Talmud in Megillah 10b famously announces that the introduction ויהי, “and then it happened…” always augurs disaster. This is the opening word of Megillah Esther, and also of next week’s portion, Shmini, and both texts do indeed include disasters. Yet even these tales they are not entirely unhappy. As the Gemara notes, the same word ויהי links the creation narrative to the dedication of the tabernacle, also in Shmini. A beraitha claims that the day the tabernacle was dedicated was God’s happiest day since creation. Why the sorrow? Continue reading