“A cry is heard in Ramah —
Wailing, bitter weeping —
Rachel weeping for her children.
She refuses to be comforted
For her children, who are gone.”
כֹּ֣ה ׀ אָמַ֣ר יְהֹוָ֗ה ק֣וֹל בְּרָמָ֤ה נִשְׁמָע֙ נְהִי֙ בְּכִ֣י תַמְרוּרִ֔ים רָחֵ֖ל מְבַכָּ֣ה עַל־בָּנֶ֑יהָ מֵאֲנָ֛ה לְהִנָּחֵ֥ם עַל־בָּנֶ֖יהָ כִּ֥י אֵינֶֽנּוּ׃ כֹּ֣ה ׀ אָמַ֣ר יְהֹוָ֗ה מִנְעִ֤י קוֹלֵךְ֙ מִבֶּ֔כִי וְעֵינַ֖יִךְ מִדִּמְעָ֑ה כִּי֩ יֵ֨שׁ שָׂכָ֤ר לִפְעֻלָּתֵךְ֙ נְאֻם־יְהֹוָ֔ה וְשָׁ֖בוּ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ אוֹיֵֽב׃ וְיֵשׁ־תִּקְוָ֥ה לְאַחֲרִיתֵ֖ךְ נְאֻם־יְהֹוָ֑ה וְשָׁ֥בוּ בָנִ֖ים לִגְבוּלָֽם׃
Jeremiah 31:15
Friends -
Greetings from the hot summer days in Jerusalem, during these Three Weeks of Dire Straits, on which we remember old wounds of national traumas - in the midst of ongoing political challenges, and ongoing heartaches here, and in so many places of pain and struggle all over the world.
We don’t grieve just to remember - we take this precious time to mourn, and to learn how to repair.
Shedding tears is one way that helps us open our hearts to this process of healing.
The tears of Rachel the Matriarch, heard throughout the ages, echoed in these words of Jeremiah, are the soundtrack at this annual time of grief.
These tears and tales might comfort and guide us as we prepare for our upcoming session on the “Judaism: Born Divided” journey - focusing on the two exiles endured by both kingdoms of Israel in the north and Judah in the south.
Rachel’s role and story, as the mother of two tribes - and the Mother of the North - is intertwined with the historical schism between the Kingdom of Israel and Judah.
Although she was the mythic Mother of the North and her burial site, as described in Genesis may be in the northern territory of Benjamin - north of today’s Jerusalem - her tomb is found nowadays south of Jerusalem - in the Judean hills near Bethlehem.
How did the mother of the north end up in the south?
What does this have to do with our exploration of the ancient schism, its modern meaning - and our need to be consoled?
And - how does Mother Mary show up in this saga??
Today’s post offers a wink towards our next session on July 19, with a reminder of how stories contain the recipes for redemption.
Jeremiah, living through the loss of Judean sovereignty and the destruction by Babylon in 568 BCE brings us Rachel’s lament as she guards the border - where her exiled children will walk away from home, in chains. His specific location is accurate - she laments at the spot where the caravans of exiled and defeated peple of the Kingdom of Israel were led away from home.
But Jeremiah is talking to his own people in Jerusalem, a century later, just before they too will be led away as refugees - still remembering the previous exile - the destruction of the northern kingdom of Israel.
The mother’s tears know no borders.
For Jeremiah, and for us, Rachel’s haunting lament embodies not just the sorrow of loss but the collective trauma experienced by both kingdoms, as well as the yearning and the faith in redemption.
Feminist scholars like Judith Plaskow emphasize the importance of reclaiming both grief as a tool for repair -and lifting up women’s voices in biblical narratives.
Plaskow argues that “Rachel’s weeping is a powerful expression of maternal grief that challenges us to acknowledge the pain of loss and the strength of resilience.”
Men in our patriarchal reality are taught not to cry and hold it in.
But Mother Rachel’s tears remind us all to let it out.
This perspective invites us to see Rachel not only as a symbol of suffering but also as a figure of strength and hope amid the historical ruptures that have shaped our identities, often through hardship.
But what is it about her resting place that has to do with our story of schism?
The Tomb of Rachel, for centuries a pilgrimage site, and still a popular one today, has become a focal point for political discourse.
While the most widely accepted location is the heavily guarded citadel, near Bethlehem, in the border between Palestinian and Israeli areas, debates about the actual location reflect deeper historical and ideological divides.
In his insightful article, “Where Was Rachel Buried?”, Prof. Aaron Demsky presents various scholarly views, including the notion that the tomb may have originally been situated further north, in the territory of Benjamin:
“The traditional site of Rachel’s tomb, located between Jerusalem and Bethlehem, is a later identification that may not reflect its original location.”
This geographic nuance is significant, particularly as we contemplate the narrative of loss and return, exemplified by Jeremiah’s prophecies. Ramah, where her cries are heard, is also up north - and it checks out with the verse in Genesis that describes where she was buried by the grieving Jacob.
So when did Rachel’s tomb ‘move’ south - identified with Judah’s Bethlehem?
It’s possible that Rachel’s tomb, like much of the Northern Kingdom’s narratives got co-opted by the Southern Judah. After the fall of Israel, Judah was left to tell the tale and possibly reclaim and ‘own’ Rachel’s role as well - although her sister Leah was the official mother of the south.
There may also be a really surprising link with ties into the story of another mythic mother, Mary, the mother of Jesus. Demsky suggests:
“The belief that Rachel’s tomb should be located near Bethlehem has its earlier appearance in Matthew 2:16, which connects Rachel’s cry in Jeremiah to the story of how Herod killed children in Bethlehem when searching out baby Jesus:
“When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the magi.
Then what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled: “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”
(Matthew 2:16-18)
Like Rachel, Mary famously cries for her slain child. Her tears are so important - they are part of the Christian liturgy. Somehow the stories of these mourning mothers and their tears are integrated into our sacred stories.
So however Rachel’s tomb ended up where it now is, despite debates in the rabbinic sources, the current site, just north of Bethlehem, eventually became identified as the ‘real tomb’ of Rachel, a marker for hope, right on the border, in the midst of bitter battles for land rights and dignity between Abraham’s children.
Beyond the tragedy of territorial disputes - the myth of the mother who helps her children’s hurting hearts heal — endures.
The tears continue flowing for the exiles of all children, everywhere.
And the words of Jeremiah, smeared with tears, all those generations later, echo like a mother’s hug -- don’t give up hope, don’t give up patience: You are never alone.
Poet and feminist scholar Alicia Ostriker reflects on Rachel’s tears:
“In the face of loss, Rachel teaches us that mourning is a sacred act, a space where hope can emerge.”
This perspective invites us to consider how Rachel’s tears can inspire a collective movement toward understanding and reconciliation, transcending political boundaries.
The tears of the mothers and the poetry of prophets remind us today that even in deep sorrow, there is a promise of return, restoration, and renewal.
🚩 Our Next LIVE LEARNING Session:
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A Tale of Two Exiles - Mourning Both Jerusalem and Samaria
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Judaism: Born Divided Landing Page
Wishing us all Shabbat Shalom, healing and consolation.
Peace שלום سلام
Amichai
Thank you, dear Rabbi, for your wise words that contain the notion of grieving as well as active hope for renewal and redemption.