The Spirituality of a Flower

The flowers, in all their colored splendor, journeyed from fertile land to take root in the most barren of places. To witness and partake of the birth of the Jewish nation.  Their attendance, forever cemented in history, no small part of the story. Their vibrant legacy, everlasting and celebrated today still, year after year.

The flowers of Har Sinai. Lush and sweetly fragrant in the midst of the desolate desert, the least likely place to survive. They, along with animals and various greenery, gathered to proudly stand by to witness the giving of the Torah to the Jewish nation. It is said that at the time of Matan Torah the desert was flourishing with life and vegetation.

What are we to make of this anomaly? A desolate land becoming an oasis of life and beauty, our meeting with Hashem the catalyst for this paradox. Why bring B’nei Yisrael through the harshest of desert conditions only to be met some weeks later with such beauty? Why not beautify their entire journey?

Mitzrayim, as the Hebrew root of its very name infers, was a place of spiritual constriction for B’nei Yisrael. It was a place of immorality and extreme physicality. Of hardship, distress and suffering. B’nei Yisrael were steeped in a life of subjugation amidst the depravity of the Egyptians. Once an elevated people in Egypt, they were slowly, methodically, reduced to slavery and pain. They were beaten, downtrodden, broken until they were themselves no longer.

Hashem stepped in and rescued B’nei Yisrael. The exodus from Egypt was big and awesome. It was grand and miraculous. In the short span of just several months B’nei Yisrael experienced two exceptional realities; they went from extreme servitude to freedom and immense wealth. They were finally under the auspices of G-d. And yet, they still were not ready to receive the Torah. 

How does one process this unfathomable experience? 

It is precisely the journey through the desert barrenness that B’nei Yisrael needed in order to prepare themselves for the giving of the Torah. The desert’s desolation was the exact necessary atmosphere to shed the negative impact of their time in Mitzrayim. To bring us as far as possible from a world of materialism. B’nei Yisrael prepared themselves for weeks and days in this severe environment to undo what had been done, to merit meeting their Creator. The desert established the proper frame of mind to connect to who they should be. To, like their surroundings, strip themselves of any physicality, to be the barest version of themselves. A hollow vessel eager to be filled with G-d. The desert reflected their psychological state of humility, openness, and a readiness to accept.

And then it was time. The desert too had to prepare itself to receive G-d. The flowers and greenery surrounded the mountain in anticipation of this moment. They were, in fact, witness, participant and enabler. They set the stage for this moment, readying the space, giving honor to what was to be. Allowing Bnei Yisrael to experience this occasion. The gloriousness and sweet scent of the flowers permeated the air, awakening our senses, empowering us to reach higher and higher levels of spirituality. The most sublime point in our history called for the most beautiful of settings. For G-d and for us to be surrounded by beauty which uplifts and transcends us to a sacred, more joyous state.

To be in the magnificence of nature, to gaze at a beautifully designed object, a stunning person, fills us with awe. It changes our mood, inspires us, lights us from within. Our physical world has an impact on our spiritual selves, our senses have a direct impact on our emotions; how we feel, how we act. Walking into a beautiful room changes our demeanor, we carry ourselves with just a bit more dignity. Watching the sun rise, its rays bursting through the clouds humbles us. It is nothing short of a spiritual experience. 

Nowhere is this more clear than with B’nei Yisrael’s exodus from Mitzrayim to Matan Torah. Their inner, spiritual state can be traced by looking at their physical surroundings. The interplay between the two drastically different atmospheres highlights how impactful our physical surroundings are to our mental and emotional being. 

And we relive this idea today. On Shavuot we fill our synagogues and homes with fragrant plants and beautiful greenery to remind us of the pleasant smell that filled the world when the Torah was given. Through our senses we are transported to the time we were closest to G-d. And we bring a piece of that holiness to us today, setting the stage for us to reach a higher level in our own lives.

The privilege of creating our external, physical spaces is one that we, as women, honor. We beautify our surroundings, we create homes for ourselves and our families to blossom and thrive in. On Shabbat we set our tables with extra care and finery; beautifully designed table settings, fresh flowers, an elevated menu. On Succot we bring our most delicate china into our temporary dwellings. We build our physical to build our spiritual. 

Herein lies the power of the flowers of Har Sinai. Their presence, an elegant reminder of the connection between the spaces we inhabit and the spaces pulsating within us. The beautiful spaces calling for perfect harmony.