The angel from Bokim

What is the point of changing anything if others resist every significant thing you do? We are here. We have food and clothes. We do not need to worry ourselves with leading anyone. We don’t need to change any culture around us. People here lie. So what? They are promiscuous. So what? They don’t worship our God. So what? Live and let live.


But surely, you cannot feel full when your brother’s continued strength is only guaranteed by the magnanimity from your table? Must they live on the generosity of others, instead of having what they can also bequeath to their next generations? You are not complete until all is complete. Don’t fail your brothers. Don’t fail the next generation’


‘Manna. What is this? This was the question evoked by this magical food for weeks after it started. And that is what its name became. Manna. Food that had to be carefully measured. Diligently weighed. Consistently gathered. Meticulously guarded and doubly gathered on the day before the Sabbath. It did not allow for carelessness. It compelled attention. Food that taught discipline. Manna?