The Story of the Menorah

I think a strange thing happened. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but perhaps not. I know that people tend to think these things when going through extremely difficult times as a way of coping or feeling better. But I still think it's strange and well... you decide! I'll just tell it like it happened.

Actually, rather than tell it like it happened - I'll start off with a question to you, the reader.

What do you think are the chances that two pairs of people, sitting on opposite ends of a room, would simultaneously have a conversation about let's say...the weather?

Not so unusual, right? Maybe a 30% chance of that happening. Maybe more? The weather is a pretty common topic of conversation.

OK. So what would you say are the chances of two pairs of people, sitting on opposite ends of a room, simultaneously having a conversation about... ants?

That might be more unlikely, let's lower the percentage of that happening to a 2% chance.

So what would you say are the chances that two pairs of people, sitting on opposite sides of a room, simultaneously have a conversation about the ancient Menorah from the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and both discuss the common belief that it is hidden in a secret vault deep under the Vatican in Rome?

Well, that's it - that's exactly what happened. Here's how that went down:

On the Thursday following the funeral, my cousin Bob came to visit me. He told me about how his son is writing a movie script with a scene about this topic. Later that evening, I went to my mom's house and my other cousin Daniella came to visit me together with her husband Jonny. I sat with Daniella on one sofa and Jonny was talking with my uncle on another sofa. Neither of us could hear the other one's conversation - that's for sure. So I told Daniella about our other cousin's script detailing the part about the Menorah being hidden under the Vatican. Then we joined my uncle and her husband's conversation and I repeated the same thing. They said - "That's strange - we were just talking about that!"

I said, "That is strange, but I was telling Daniella about how some people claim that the Menorah is under the Vatican in a secret vault." And my uncle said "Well, yes - that's exactly what we were just talking about. In fact, I was just saying how it might not be under the Vatican as is popularly believed, but rather back in Jerusalem in Rehavia."

So, there you have it, that's what happened. My uncle knew nothing or heard nothing of the script my cousin was writing. And I would guess that this was probably the first time in my life I spoke in conversation about the ancient Menorah. But it gets a bit weirder.

The night before and all that morning, before I went to my apartment to accept visitors, I had talked to my uncle Gadi and my father, both physicists, about the nature of energy. I admit, I wanted to understand the concept of energy better to see if there could be any scientific possibility whatsoever that human energy, or consciousness, or our souls, or whatever you want to call it, could possibly continue after death. I asked what happens to the energy we have within us - the electrical energy in our brains, chemical energy in our cells, etc. My dad said that since energy cannot disappear, it is probably converted to an electromagnetic wave and dispersed into the universe. That actually tied in nicely with my own little theory that maybe dark energy, proposed to make up some 90% of the universe, is actually somehow connected to the consciousness of all living beings including ants and trees and humans etc, that maybe there IS some kind of connection between the physical universe and a spiritual energy. Our conversation spanned the big bang theory, the period of inflation, why the universe is expanding at an accelerating rate and so on. But all this is for another post. The POINT IS, I was interrogating my uncle and father about energy for hours and I was so deeply and frustratedly unsatisfied with the not knowing or understanding of any of this.

When the coincidence happened with the subject of the Menorah, I felt like something was happening at that moment. I just felt something. My mom came in to the room from the kitchen and I immediately asked her - "Mom, what is the meaning or significance of the Menorah from the Jerusalem temple?" Without hesitation, she replied "It symbolized an energy that went on and on." She meant the story of Hannuka, about the miracle of light that burned for 8 days instead of whatever it was supposed to be.

To me, it was like a very clear and resounding answer, straight from the universe to the question that had been driving me insane over the previous 24 hours. And I felt like a momentary joy, is the only way I can describe it, a real joy that Amir somehow in some form, still exists.

When I told this story to a friend of mine, she said something that struck a chord with me. She said that sometimes, when you ask the right question, you can be receptive to getting the answer straight from, yes, I'm going to say it again - the universe.

OK. Now I have to find a replica of the Menora to put in my living room. Every time I'm sad and miss you, Amir, I'm going to look at it and remember this incident.