This past Shabbat, on a Shabbaton, we were divided into small circles, each group given a different aspect of the Beit HaMikdash to discuss.

Our group was given the Shechina—and how we understand it, and how we imagine it will be experienced in the Beit HaMikdash.

One woman in our group shared a perspective that resonated with many: that the Shechina is already within us, and redemption is simply revealing what has always been there.

I listened. And something in me resisted.

Not because it was wrong. But because, for me, it wasn’t enough.

Later, the woman who shared that idea asked me why I had been so quiet. My friend was there, and as I tried to explain what I was feeling, I found myself getting emotional.

Because if everything was already here—if we just didn’t access it properly—then what are we waiting for?

After everything we go through in life—the loss, the confusion, the weight we carry—I don’t believe redemption is only about uncovering what was already inside us.

I want something more.

I want a moment where Hashem’s presence is undeniable—where we don’t have to search, interpret, or convince ourselves.

A moment where we stand in the Beit HaMikdash and everything becomes clear. Where the pain we carried is not erased, but finally understood.

As it says in Tehillim, “אָז יִמָּלֵא שְׂחוֹק פִּינוּ וּלְשׁוֹנֵנוּ רִנָּה”—“then our mouths will be filled with laughter and our tongues with song”—a joy so overwhelming it can’t be contained, it pours out of us.

Because after all this time—after everything we’ve lived through—how could it be anything less than overwhelming?

The One we’ve tried to come closer to.

The One we’ve worked to serve, to emulate, to live by.

It cannot just be a quiet realization that it was inside us all along.

At the end of the Shabbaton, we sat in a circle and wrote down something we wanted to release before Pesach. Then it was burned.

It was simple. But it was real.

Because it wasn’t just about letting go. It was about refusing to keep carrying what no longer belongs in the life we’re trying to build.

Maybe there is something within us.

But I don’t believe that’s the whole story.

Because after everything, I don’t just want potential.

I don’t want a hidden God anymore.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)