There’s a constant murmur among the crowd. Suppose you were close enough to a swarm of bees, you’d probably be hearing something similar. Except that this swarm is praying. They’re speaking Hebrew at a very fast pace in an undertone that makes language barely recognizable. Which is odd, because the prayer they’re reciting is for recognition.

Days pass and the years vanish and we walk sightless among miracles. Lord, fill our eyes with seeing and our minds with knowing. And let there be moments when your presence, like lightning, illumines the darkness in which we walk.

The Sabbath is beginning. It’s Friday night just as the sun is setting. Jews all over the globe come together at precisely the same moment and call out to God in a prayer for light and vision. The Sabbath is a spectacle of celebration. Sadness, worry and stress are suspended for twenty-four bliss-filled hours.

The wonder of observing the Sabbath is not just in the relief it provides. It’s more than a renewal of spirit, or a comfortable gathering of community. Sabbath is a time to see miracles. Who among us couldn’t use at least one weekly miracle? And here’s where true wonder comes in: Life is a miracle, every waking moment.

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