Etched in Gold

Seven weeks ago, I mailed my wedding ring back to Israel.

Our rings on our wedding day in the yichud room.

After wearing it for roughly eighteen months, I had come to finally admit it was too tight. In fact, I had finally reached the point where it was too painful to wear. I learned after meeting with a local jeweler, whoever sized me before we even bought our wedding rings sized me improperly, and I needed one whole size larger! Saddened, I knew the only way I could continue to wear the band I had grown so attached to was to contact the jeweler in Jerusalem, Israel, who crafted it and see what they recommend. They instructed me to mail it back to them to be resized.

As the sentimentalist and romantic that I am, ceasing from wearing my wedding ring felt like a piece of my soul was missing from me. When I handed off the package to be mailed, that hole cracked a bit further. Then my ring was trapped in customs for almost a month, with the jeweler tirelessly negotiating for its release. Eventually, I just had to let go of my worry and trust Hashem it would get to them.

Today, I am happy to say it is now back home.

Etched in Gold | Writing Lynn---Endless Musings — Wedding ring today

I knew when I sent off my ring it would not return the same. You see, we ordered our rings from an artisan, world class, custom jeweler in Israel [Hadaya Studio], who specializes in engravings. (I highly recommend them for any of your jewelry needs. Their work is art you can wear, they put their passion and pride into every piece, and they are the kindest people, too!) Thus, since my ring is covered in engravings, both inside and out, I knew to resize my ring, the jeweler would need to stretch it out. During the interim, as I desperately awaited its return, I often wondered what changes, if any, I would find when it came back.

Would I notice the changes? Had I memorized the engravings? The lines of Jerusalem’s skyline? The Hebrew words inscribed on the band? Was it as etched into my memory as it was in the gold?

Though I noticed plenty of changes as I studied the band again in my palm, the ring is the same ring. It is my ring.

The engravings are all the same. I think they only had to redo maybe one or two, but overall, they have faded you could say from the stretching. They’re not as prominent or deep, nor as visible as before, but the engravings are still there. Jerusalem still encircles my left hand; my husband’s choice words still bind me in gold.

Of course, immediately I was struck by the beauty of this imagery, of this tangible change, thinking of how we too are like gold; how Hashem forms, bends, stretches, and refines us as the master craftsman He is.

Currently we are in the month of Elul. We are preparing our souls to meet with our King on Rosh Hashanah, the head of the year, and to plead before His throne that we might be inscribed for a good life before the Book of Life is shut for another year, before the gates to Heaven themselves shut for one more year.

We also pray every day, every week, every Shabbat—every time we gather—the words which Hashem taught us to pray:

שְׁמַ֖ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵ֖ינוּ יְהֹוָ֥ה ׀ אֶחָֽד׃ Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD alone.

וְאָ֣הַבְתָּ֔ אֵ֖ת יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֑יךָ בְּכׇל־לְבָבְךָ֥ וּבְכׇל־נַפְשְׁךָ֖ וּבְכׇל־מְאֹדֶֽךָ׃ You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.

וְהָי֞וּ הַדְּבָרִ֣ים הָאֵ֗לֶּה אֲשֶׁ֨ר אָנֹכִ֧י מְצַוְּךָ֛ הַיּ֖וֹם עַל־לְבָבֶֽךָ׃ Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day.
Devarim [Deuteronomy] 6:4-6

Notice the translation says, “Take to heart,” but really the literal translation of the Hebrew (and I’m a novice so I could be wrong) is, “Upon your heart.” The Hebrew word, עַל, literally means on or upon, like you set a cup on a table.

This commandment is repeated in Devarim 11:18, but some translations instead say, “Impress these My words upon your very heart,” though the Hebrew is the same, עַל־לְבַבְכֶ֖ם. Again, literally, “Upon your heart.”

How then should we understand this commandment?

Obviously, one could argue the historical context, of how cuneiform or other ancient methods of writing were a literal pressing of a tokens onto a soft-surfaced, usually clay, tablet to create written engravings. Of course, this is still done today with modern printing presses (thank you, Johannes Gutenberg) in that inked blocks are pressed against paper to create mass produced texts. We know this. Thus, one could leave the understanding there, but there are further scriptures to explore which, I think, could broaden our grasp.

David frequently writes in his Tehillim of his desire for Hashem’s word to be within his heart (e.g. Tehillim 37:30-31; 40:8; 119). Though one might call it mere poetry, perhaps David—remembering the commandments of old, the prayers passed through the generations—knew it was meant to be taken almost literally, that Hashem wanted His words of wisdom and love to be so alive within the souls of His people, it was as if they were etched within their hearts?

Did he embody this desire, endlessly expressing this passion throughout his life, so much it influenced his son, Solomon? He, too, frequently wrote about taking Hashem’s wisdom to heart, carrying it within, and inclining towards His words. Just read his Proverbs. Though is there any other image more famously described than Solomon’s own words within Shir Hashirim [Song of Songs] 8:6?

שִׂימֵ֨נִי כַֽחוֹתָ֜ם עַל־לִבֶּ֗ךָ כַּֽחוֹתָם֙ עַל־זְרוֹעֶ֔ךָ Let me be a seal upon your heart, Like the seal upon your arm.

Except, I think my favourite isn’t even Solomon’s words; though I adore them and the image they create. Rather, I think it’s the promise of Hashem to the prophet, Jeremiah, when He said,

נָתַ֤תִּי אֶת־תּֽוֹרָתִי֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔ם וְעַל־לִבָּ֖ם אֶכְתְּבֶ֑נָּה וְהָיִ֤יתִי לָהֶם֙ לֵֽאלֹהִ֔ים וְהֵ֖מָּה יִֽהְיוּ־לִ֥י לְעָֽם׃ I will put My Teaching into their inmost being and inscribe it upon their hearts. Then I will be their God, and they shall be My people.
Jeremiah 31:33

Hashem makes this promise to Jeremiah after the destruction of the Temple, of Jerusalem, and the exile of the people of Israel to Babylon under the nefarious hand of Nebuchadnezzar. The image of Jeremiah we remember today is that he sat atop the ashes of Jerusalem and wept for the fate of his people, utterly lost and hopeless. However, Hashem makes this promise, giving him the hope Jeremiah desperately craved amidst his lamenting. It is a promise that Hashem will not forget His people, they will return to the land, and instead of entrusting the people to write His law upon their own hearts as He charged them hundreds of years before on the mountain of Sinai—Hashem vows that He, himself, will write His teachings—His love and devotion to Israel—upon their own hearts.

Is there no better thought than that of a G-d who humbles Himself to meet us where we are in our sorrow and grief, to tell us He Himself will do what we could not in our own strength? That we are not forgotten, but cherished and loved?

So you see, as I sat and studied my new but old ring, I realized that despite all the complete $h*t that was 2020—Hashem is still near. Though He has felt so very far away, He hasn’t let me go. And I think even more encouragingly, His words are still etched into my heart. Though they may not be as deep, though they may seem to have faded, though I may not see them as easily, though their rough edges have been worn smooth—they are still there through all the stretching and beating and bending I’ve endured.

His love has never left me.

Thus, I should and shall never leave Him.

How funny then I should remember this, for the rabbis teach, too, that the month of Elul אֱלוּל‎ is an acronym for the verse,