Singing & Sobbing: Our Chorus of Contradictions

Ezra 3:11-13

In Mesopotamian myth, when gods got angry, they left their temples, which were often destroyed. When their divine rage cooled, they ordered those sanctuaries rebuilt. The rituals of restoration were sacred theater: a king pinpointed the original foundation; bricks were moved with ceremony, mixed with shame; joy mingled with lament. Ruins didn’t just signal divine wrath—they invited a new relationship, stitched together by memory and hope.

The Judeans who returned to Zion with the first wave followed a similar script.

Ezra 3 celebrates the ritual revival of sacred time and space. During the Seventh month, as the summer harvests are brought in, and the holiday of Succot is celebrated, the people gathered for a modest celebration at the spot where the First Temple once soared.

The priests dress up, the Levites sing, the builders dig down to ancient stone. It’s a moment thick with meaning, a multi-vocal mix of feelings. There is a moment in these verses that chokes me up every time - especially with the timing on the Jewish calendar this year:

וַיִּסְדּוּ הַבּוֹנִים אֶת־הֵיכַל ה' וַיַּעֲמִידוּ הַכֹּהֲנִים מְלֻבָּשִׁים בַּחֲצֹצְרוֹת וְהַלְוִיִּם בְּנֵי־אָסָף בַּמְצִלְתַּיִם לְהַלֵּל אֶת־ה' עַל מוֹסְדֵי בֵית־ה'.

וְרַבִּים מֵהַכֹּהֲנִים וְהַלְוִיִּם וְרָאשֵׁי הָאָבוֹת הַזְּקֵנִים אֲשֶׁר רָאוּ אֶת־הַבַּיִת הָרִאשׁוֹן בְּיָסְדוֹ זֶה־הַבַּיִת בְּעֵינֵיהֶם בֹּכִים בְּקוֹל גָּדוֹל וְרַבִּים בִּתְרוּעָה בְשִׂמְחָה לְהָרִים קוֹל:

וְאֵ֣ין הָעָ֗ם מַכִּירִים֙ ק֚וֹל תְּרוּעַ֣ת הַשִּׂמְחָ֔ה לְק֖וֹל בְּכִ֣י הָעָ֑ם כִּ֣י הָעָ֗ם מְרִיעִים֙ תְּרוּעָ֣ה גְדוֹלָ֔ה וְהַקּ֥וֹל נִשְׁמַ֖ע עַד־לְמֵרָחֽוֹק׃

And when the builders laid the foundation of the Temple of God, the priests in their vestments with trumpets, and the Levites, sons of Asaph, with cymbals, took their places to praise God, as King David of Israel had ordained."

But many of the priests and Levites and chiefs of the clans, the elders who had seen the First House—on seeing the foundation of this House laid before their eyes—were weeping loudly, while many others raised their voices in a shout of joy.”

The people could not distinguish the shouts of joy from the people’s weeping, for the people raised a great shout, the sound of which could be heard from afar.

Ezra 3:11-13

The tears of the elders who remember the past mix with the triumphant song of the youth who celebrate the present.

What a moving moment.

This chorus of contradiction—tears and trumpets, joy and grief, restoration and ruin—is a holy dissonance. It’s not confusion. It’s clarity even mid chaos. It’s what faith maybe sounds like when it’s honest.

This year, tonight, as Israel marks its 77th birthday, once again marking a return to this land, we stand again at a foundation stone.

Some look and weep—for so much that has been and is still lost, broken, betrayed. Others sing—for what’s been built, defended, loved.

Some of us attempt to do both.

Like the elders - we remember other times the House was laid, and destroyed. Other times of exile, and return. Because every block of this complicated homeland holds both blessing and burden. We weep for the impossible price and the pain and the lack of hope on the horizon.

And yet with all those who refuse to give up on the dream of a real democracy where all people are honored and life is loved more than land - we also want to sing a song of joy and praise and pray for peace.

We learn from the ancients that to rebuild is not just to construct—it’s to reckon.

Just like the Mesopotamian kings who used ritual to restore not just bricks but trust, we too must ask: What was broken? What still needs healing? How do we keep honoring the past while laying the groundwork for something new and better?

The both/and of this scene on Succot around the new altar, with no temple yet, a work in process, is our blueprint of sorrow and song—calls us not to choose a side, but to inhabit the whole: To acknowledge the beautiful and name what’s painful. To celebrate resilience while mourning the cost. To let the sound of weeping strengthen, not silence, the shout of hope.

The psalmist wrote, “Those who sow in tears will reap in joy.” The builders in Ezra sowed in both. So can we.

And maybe, just maybe, the holiest sound isn’t the weeping or the laughter alone. It’s their harmony.

The cracked, brave chorus of people who still show up. Who still build. Who still believe - in a future that can contain multitude, our intertwined hopes.

Below the Bible Belt: 929 chapters, 42 months, daily reflections.

Become a free or paid subscriber and join Rabbi Amichai’s 3+ years interactive online quest to question, queer + re-read between the lines of the entire Hebrew Bible. Enjoy daily posts, weekly videos and monthly learning sessions. 2022-2025.

Become a Paid Subscriber? Thank you for your support!

#Ezra #BookofEzra #hebrewbible #כתובים #Ketuvim #Bible #Tanach #929 #עזרא #ספרעזרא #labshul #belowthebiblebelt929

#Ezra3 #TheSecondTemple #Zerubabel #rededication #sowintearsreapinjoy #IsraeliIndependenceday2025 #reckoning #chorusofcontradictions #Both/And #mixedfeelings #rebuildingJerusalem #rebuildingthetemple #nostalgia #grief

#peace #prayforpeace #nomorewar #stopthewarnow