Known as Bet Hachaim, or the "House of the Living," a Jewish cemetery is part of a community life. Marks a permanent physical presence in a city or region. Keeps the history and identity of the group alive. Bodies are buried directly in the earth to return to nature. Graves must remain untouched forever so the soul finds peace.
Cleanup efforts at the Isaac Aboab Jewish cemetery continue to bring together Jews from Porto. Non-Jews can hardly understand the profound meaning of this collective action. Of course it preserves historical heritage, honors the memory of past communities, and ensures physical safety and respect for the dead. There is more.
In Jewish mysticism, the first half of the night is dominated by Gevurah (judgment and severity). At exactly midnight, the energy shifts to Chesed (loving-kindness and mercy). It is believed that souls in the afterlife also experience this shift, allowing them to gather in a clean place.
While Halakha and mainstream customs outline strict boundaries between the living and the deceased, Kabbalah teaches on spirits conducting their own services, the "Midnight Minyan". After the clock strikes midnight— the barrier between the physical and spiritual worlds is thinnest—the spirits of the deceased rise from their graves, they gather in the cemetery to form their own minyan.
Jews avoid visiting cemeteries at night because it is considered the domain of spirits and harsh judgments. There is a real-world, devout practice where living people stay up to recite Tikkun Chatzot, the Midnight rectification. This is a prayer of mourning for the destruction of the Holy Temple. The folklore of the dead rising to pray at midnight is a supernatural mirror of this real-world custom.
