Dear friends,
Tisha b'Av is both an end and a beginning. I can't begin to imagine the sense of failure I would have felt had I realized that it was all over. At moments like these, you have no choice but to stop the endless blaming that comes so easily when you look in the mirror and don't like what you see. The fact that I was there means that there is a reason for my being there – an inescapable piece of reality that I cannot erase.
When you go to the Kotel – the beautiful, wonderful, almost unbelievable remnant of eternity that, for reasons known only to Hashem, He chose to leave us – you are standing before a retaining wall. The Beis HaMikdash itself stood on Har HaBayis. If you continue to the end of the street leading from Sha'ar Yaffo to the Kotel, you will come to a large green gate. Soldiers, as they should, prevent anyone from entering, but the gates are almost always open, allowing you to glimpse the place where the Beis HaMikdash once stood.
What do you see? Arabs walking toward Al-Aqsa to pray. Children playing soccer. Small groups of people standing around talking.
On Har HaBayis.
The first time I stood there, I felt a strange mixture of disbelief and curiosity, followed by an almost conscious desire to distance myself emotionally from the obvious message.
This is not where I can be.
Not now.
In this coming week's parashah, Va'eschanan, we find Moshe facing a similar reality. He is not going to be where he longs to be. He will not cross the Yarden into Eretz Yisrael.
His response was prayer. Words take the limitless space within us and give it shape. Chazal identify ten different expressions for prayer in Tanach. The word Moshe chose, va'eschanan, means, "Grant me a free gift." Why would Moshe ask for a free gift? Surely no human being ever earned more merit than Moshe Rabbeinu.
The answer is that the more deeply a person knows Hashem, the smaller he feels before Him.
RABBI KUSHALEVSKI AND MOSHE
Some of you know my dear friend Rebbetzin Kushalevsky. Her husband, who had been married previously without having children, while she had children from an earlier marriage, finally became an Abba at the age of eighty-eight. Every day his tefillah was
"I have no merit to ask You for anything, but please have compassion on me and grant me a child."
BACK TO MOSHE
What would have happened had Hashem said yes?
Moshe would have led the nation into Eretz Canaan. He would have conquered the Canaanite nations and established Am Yisrael in the Land under his leadership. Moshe embodied emmes – unchanging truth. If he conquered the 7 nations, they would be gone forever.
Had this occurred, that would mean that we wouldn’t have adapted their beliefs or their corrupt culture. Exile and all that it carries would become necessary – not merely as a punishment, but as a painful process through which the Jewish people would rediscover who they truly are by learning who they are not.
Now we are about to take a brief journey into Kabbalah. Don't worry – we'll come back.
Before we begin, a few words of vocabulary: Tohu, Sefiros, and Sheviras HaKeilim.
No one can describe Hashem. Every description is, by definition, a limitation. If I describe something as a letter, I am also saying that it is not an elephant or a couch. Yet a relationship requires some way of knowing the One with Whom we seek to connect.
Hashem made that possible. He revealed His will through the Torah and reflected His attributes within the human soul. The traits He implanted within us mirror the Divine attributes through which He allows Himself to be known.
One way to picture this is to imagine the English letter U.
The line descending on the right represents Hashem revealing Himself so that a world could come into existence. The bottom of the U represents creation trying to receive more Divine revelation than it was capable of containing. Imagine trying to pour an entire bottle of soda into a single glass. The glass cannot contain it. The vessels shatter.
This is Sheviras HaKeilim.
The stage of existence that followed is called Tohu – chaos.
Now look at the line rising on the left side of the U. That represents Tikkun. Hashem created human beings with the ability to gather the broken pieces and restore them. He placed within each of us a soul that longs for kindness, courage, truth, holiness, and meaning. Our deepest selves resonate with Him.
The Divine attributes are called Sefiros, from the same root as sippur – a story. Through them, Hashem tells us something about Himself. Through the choices we make, we tell the story of our partnership with Him.
Back to what we call real life...
We had to face the evil of the seven nations, who created cultures built upon qualities that were the exact opposite of Tikkun. They had become so thoroughly identified with these corruptions that the Torah commanded their elimination.
These nations were not merely groups of people who happened to behave badly. They were the distortion of the very qualities that Hashem placed within creation. The middos that were meant to reveal something of Him had become twisted into their opposite.
Instead of chessed, which means giving for the sake of the one you love, they created a grotesque substitute that even today some people call "love," but which is really sexual exploitation. Instead of gevurah, the strength to control oneself and direct one's power toward good, they glorified aggression and domination, calling it courage and strength.
They represented the world before Tikkun – the broken version of what these qualities were meant to become. Moshe could have overcome them with his emes – the absolute truth of Hashem's Torah that he brought down to His people. But Hashem knew that the time had not yet come.
The work would have to be done differently.
It would have to be done by us.
We live in a world that still contains fragments of the original shattering. Every person carries within himself both the brokenness and the possibility of repair. Every time we choose patience over anger, generosity over selfishness, holiness over desire, we are gathering another piece of the vessel and returning it to its proper place.
And now comes the greatest weapon.
Simchah.
Real simchah – the joy that comes from doing a mitzvah, especially when that mitzvah does not come easily – has the power to repair what was broken.
Think about how you would feel if you saw a small child crying desperately because he was lost, and after searching, you found his mother and reunited them. The joy would be overwhelming. You would not simply feel that you had completed a task. You would feel that something in the world had been restored.
That is what every mitzvah does.
All of us are like that small child. We are often lost, searching for who we really are. When we do a mitzvah, we are not only doing something for Hashem. We are finding the part of ourselves that was always connected to Him.
Give yourself permission to feel the joy of that moment.
You are not just performing an action.
You are finding yourself.
The day will come when all of us will gather together in Yerushalayim. We will stand in the rebuilt Beis HaMikdash, and we will understand the purpose of every struggle, every tear, and every small act of goodness that helped repair the world.
We will recognize each other because we are not separate pieces.
We are parts of one great vessel.
And that vessel will finally be whole.
As the Navi promises:
"אָז יִמָּלֵא שְׂחוֹק פִּינוּ"
"Then our mouths will be filled with laughter."
Love,
Tziporah
