…….the Geulah process
and our hopes
and plans
for even greater things?
IY”H
…….the Geulah process
and our hopes
and plans
for even greater things?
IY”H
/ yishaifleisher
At the instruction of HaGaon HaRav Dov Landau, public tefilla gatherings and the recitation of Tehillim will take place in shuls throughout Israel on Motzei Tisha B’Av at 10:00 p.m., with tefillos for the yeshua of Klal Yisrael during this difficult period.
The call followed remarks delivered by the Rosh Yeshiva this week at a special kinus of community Rabbanim from across Israel, organized by the Ichud Bnei Yeshivos.
During his remarks, HaRav Landau referred to the difficult situation facing the Torah world in Eretz Yisrael.
“The state of galus in which we find ourselves is a difficult one that continues to drag on, and our obligation is to increase our tefillos,” the Rosh Yeshiva said. “Therefore, we call upon everyone to gather in all shuls on Motzei Tisha B’Av to call out with many tefillos and the recitation of Tehillim with outpouring of the heart and from the depths of our souls, so that Hashem may swiftly save us from all our troubles, those affecting both the community and individuals. The gates of tears and prayer have not been closed.”
The Rosh Yeshivah concluded with a tefilla: “May Hashem help us never to be ashamed or stumble, forever, and may we merit to witness the yeshuas Yisrael and the rebuilding of the Beis HaMikdash speedily in our days. Amen.”

(YWN Israel Desk—Jerusalem)
Rabbi Michael Freund
This Wednesday evening, Jews around the world will gather in synagogues, sit on the floor and mourn the destruction of Jerusalem.
For 25 hours, we will fast, recite the Book of Lamentations and contemplate the suffering that has accompanied our people throughout history.
Tisha B’Av is the saddest day on the Jewish calendar. And yet, Jewish law describes it in a manner that appears almost impossible to comprehend.
The Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chaim 559:4) rules that Tachanun, the penitential prayer normally recited on weekdays, is omitted on Tisha B’Av “because it is called a mo’ed," an appointed festival.
But how can this possibly be?
The term mo’ed evokes celebration, joy and closeness to G-d. How can the day on which both Temples were destroyed bear that designation?
Indeed, the list of calamities associated with Tisha B’Av is mind-numbing.
The Mishnah recounts five national tragedies on the ninth of Av. The generation of the Exodus accepted the Spies’ slander of the Land of Israel, prompting G-d to make it a night of weeping for generations.
Both Temples were destroyed on Tisha B’Av. Beitar, the final stronghold of the Bar Kochba revolt, fell to the Romans, and Jerusalem and the Temple Mount were subsequently plowed over, symbolizing the apparent obliteration of Jewish national life.
But the sorrow did not end in ancient times.
-On Tisha B’Av in 1290, King Edward I expelled the Jews of England.
-Two centuries later, the Jews of Spain were driven into exile in the days surrounding Tisha B’Av.
Don Isaac Abarbanel, the great Jewish philosopher and statesman expelled from Spain, saw the timing as anything but coincidental. He suggested that the king had been guided from Above to link another national catastrophe with the ninth of Av.
Other disasters clustered around the date as well.
-The Roman Ghetto was established in 1555.
-Germany entered World War I on the ninth of Av in 1914, unleashing a conflict that shattered European Jewry and helped create the conditions that led to the Holocaust.
-On Tisha B’Av in 1941, SS Commander Heinrich Himmler received authorization to carry out the Final Solution.
-A year later, mass deportations from the Warsaw Ghetto to Treblinka began during the same period.
-And on the day after Tisha B’Av in 2005, the Israeli government began uprooting more than 8,000 Jews from Gush Katif and northern Samaria. Twenty-one flourishing Jewish communities in Gaza were destroyed, their synagogues emptied and their families torn from their homes. The terrible consequences continue to reverberate until this very day.
Tisha B’Av therefore does not commemorate one tragedy. It is the focal point of Jewish national grief, the day on which the anguish of millennia seems to converge.
So why call it a mo’ed?
A mo’ed is not merely a holiday. It is an appointed encounter between G-d and the Jewish people.
Ordinarily, that encounter takes place through joy. On Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot, we celebrate G-d’s presence in history and His enduring covenant with us.
But there are other encounters as well.
Sometimes G-d is found not only in celebration but in absence, not only in revelation but in concealment, and not only in triumph but amid the ruins of destruction.
Tisha B’Av is a mo’ed because even on the day of our greatest suffering, the relationship between G-d and Israel was never severed.
The Temple was destroyed, but the Jewish people survived.
Jerusalem was razed, but it was never forgotten.
We were driven from country after country yet refused to disappear. We carried Jerusalem wherever we went, turning toward it in prayer and ending every Passover Seder with, “Next year in Jerusalem."
Our enemies repeatedly mistook destruction for finality. They assumed that by burning our sanctuaries, expelling our communities and scattering us across the earth, they could bring the Jewish story to an end.
They were wrong.
The survival of the Jewish people testifies that destruction was never the last chapter.
This is reflected in one of the most remarkable teachings of Jewish tradition: that the Messiah is born on Tisha B’Av.
It teaches that when destruction appears complete, the seeds of redemption have already been planted.
Even as the Temple burned, the possibility of rebuilding was born. Even as exile began, the path toward return was set in motion.
That is why the prophet Zechariah (8:19) declares that the fasts commemorating Jerusalem’s destruction will one day become “joy and gladness and cheerful festivals for the house of Judah."
Maimonides (Laws of Fasts 19:19) codifies this promise, writing that in the days of the Messiah, the fasts will be transformed into holidays and days of rejoicing.
Significantly, they will not simply disappear.
We might have expected that after redemption, the darkest chapters of Jewish history would be swept aside. Yet Zechariah tells us that the days themselves will remain, though their character will be transformed.
Redemption will enable us to understand history differently.
We will see that suffering did not destroy us but revealed our indestructibility. Exile did not sever our connection to the Land of Israel but intensified our longing for it. The destruction of Jerusalem did not erase it from Jewish consciousness but placed it at the center of our national identity.
And perhaps we will also recognize that our enemies repeatedly reminded us of a truth we too often forget: the Jewish people are one.
Neither the Crusaders nor the Nazis stopped to ask whether a Jew was Ashkenazi or Sephardi, religious or secular, conservative or liberal. Nor does a terrorist pause to determine whether his intended victim wears a black velvet kippa, a crocheted kippa or no head covering at all.
The calamities of Tisha B’Av struck Jews regardless of their political, social, economic or religious standing.
Amid the suffering, Jews were forced to remember that we are bound together by a shared identity and destiny.
But we should not wait for our enemies to remind us.
The lesson of Tisha B’Av is not merely that baseless hatred destroyed the Temple. It is that Jewish unity, faith and national purpose are essential to rebuilding it.
Perhaps that is why Tisha B’Av is already called a mo’ed.
Not because we minimize its pain or pretend that destruction is worthy of celebration.
It is called a mo’ed because Judaism refuses to concede that tragedy is final. Even on the darkest day of the year, we affirm that G-d has not abandoned His people, that Jerusalem will be rebuilt and that sorrow will yet give way to joy.
Tisha B’Av is both a day of mourning and an appointed encounter with hope.
As we sit on the floor and contemplate the ashes of our past, Jewish tradition reminds us that redemption has already been woven into the day itself.
The darkness is real. The pain must be felt.
But it is not the end of the story.
And if we can embrace one another, strengthen our attachment to Jerusalem and reaffirm our shared national destiny, perhaps this Tisha B’Av will be the last one we observe in sorrow.
https://www.israelnationalnews.com/news/430591
|
In this week’s Torah class we took a break from Yirmiya to learn about Bar Kochba and the destruction of Beitar from Chazal’s perspective in Yerushalmi Taanis. There are many striking parallels between what made Bar Kochba a false messiah — fooling no less than Rabbi Akiva! — and the State of Israel; between the valiant warriors fighting a milchemes mitzvahagainst the Romans and the well-meaning fools in the IDF; between the nationalist gangsters who ruled Jerusalem before the destruction and the Zionist gangsters of modern times.
This special class for the three weeks is embedded above and on Rumble here. Next week’s class has been rescheduled from Thursday to Tuesday night at 8PM Israel time. The link to join the live classes is here.
Regular listeners to my weekly Torah classes will be familiar with what I am about to share, but it cannot be emphasized enough.
If you internalize this lesson it will radically change your life. It will spare you many forms of suffering, it will help you navigate the inevitable challenges and difficulties in life with serenity and confidence, it will help you avoid irresponsible, self-defeating actions, and, most importantly, it will strengthen and deepen your relationship with Hashem.
As if that’s not enough, internalizing this lesson will protect us from the relentless efforts of enemies from within and without to mislead us, turn us against each other, turn us against Hashem in the name of the Torah, and lead us to physical and spiritual destruction.
If enough of us accomplish this, it’s game over, we win.
Imagine that we had no external enemies, or that they simply went poof and disappeared.
Alternatively, imagine that Israel and the IDF were authentic Jewish entities, and they achieved a total victory against Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, etc. Our enemies were completely vanquished, and they had no intention of waging war on us ever again.
Alternatively, a spirit of peace and brotherhood washed over our enemies, they beat their swords into plowshares, and resolved to live with us in unconditional peace and harmony forever. There would be no more wars, and no need for armies. This would be cause for great celebration. Maybe even Hallel without a bracha!
But here’s the chiddush: We would not be one iota safer.
Why not? Because our enemies have absolutely no power. Their ability to harm us comes directly and exclusively from our sins. If there is no heavenly decree, they can’t harm us. If, God forbid, there is a heavenly decree against us, our enemies can be the executors of the decree.
Here’s the thing: If there were no evil people who wished to harm us, the decree would simply be fulfilled another way. Hashem has many messengers. He can send a famine, a flood, an earthquake, pestilence, etc.
Similarly, if the IDF were a thousand times larger and more powerful, they were really fighting a milchemes mitzva, and they were trying their very hardest to protect us, we would not be one iota safer. After all, our success or lack thereof depends entirely on Hashem’s decree; our hishtadlus in the physical realm does not determine the outcome.
Hence, when one says something like “the IDF keeps us safe”, he is expressing outright kefira. When one demands people join the IDF to compensate for a presumed “manpower shortage” that poses an “existential threat”, he is making a kefira-based demand. (When one demands more people join the IDF out of a presumed obligation to suffer more and die more just because others have chosen to do so, he is exhibiting a thoroughly perverted mind, in addition to being a kofer.)
Hashem requires us to engage in hishtadlus because He wants us to behave according to the ways of the world, while recognizing that our hishtadlus is not the actual cause of the outcome — it all flows from Hashem. If there were no need for hishtadlus, everything would come through open miracles, and there would be no free choice; we would immediately and conclusively see the difference between one who serves Hashem and one who does not. Hishtadlus is a necessary camouflage for Hashem’s intervention, and we are required to respect this system.
However, we are not to go overboard with our hishtadlus, which includes unreasonable measures, measures that unnecessarily harm us, and measures that outright violate the Torah.
For example, we are required to perform some hishtadlus to earn a living, but stealing is not an acceptable form of hishtadlus. Similarly, going overboard with hishtadlus to make money demonstrates lack of bitachon in Hashem, and can be destructive to one’s well-being, family life, and avodas Hashem.
We are required at times to go to a doctor, while recognizing that true healing depends on a divine decree. The doctor is nothing more than an emissary of Hashem’s healing (or the Angel of Death). If we were on a high enough level and recognized the spiritual cause behind our ailment, a doctor might be superfluous. Sometimes Hashem forces us to go to a doctor anyway as a form of punishment; He will still heal us, but only through an emissary, like a king who banishes his son from his table, but still sends him food through one of his servants.
So yes, sometimes going to a doctor is proper hishtadlus, but we shouldn’t get carried away with it. We shouldn’t think the doctor is anything more than an emissary (hopefully the good kind). We shouldn’t put our hope and faith in doctors. We certainly shouldn’t blindly follow a corrupt medical establishment (or even an honest one), or undergo dubious medical interventions when one is perfectly healthy to begin with — that is improper hishtadlus, which can be the cause of that which we are trying to prevent.
All the brouhaha over IDF service servitude is predicated on a terrible misunderstanding (or wilful disregard) of this basic principle. It is predicated on kefira!
Even if the IDF were an authentic Jewish army, run by God-fearing, Torah-observant Jews, doing everything according to halacha, and fighting a true milchemes mitzvah, the entire discussion over who should participate should be far less heated, because the size of the army is far less important than the spiritual state of the nation.
This is all the more so when the IDF is quite the opposite, representing a form of hishtadlus that is inappropriate on every conceivable level. Certainly no one should be pressured or forced to participate in an army that contradicts the Torah in so many ways, and poses such a threat to one’s physical and spiritual well-being even in times of peace.
Hashem hates the people who operate the IDF, and He hates the way the IDF is run. He doesn’t need the IDF to protect us, and neither do we¹. Believing otherwise, to the extent that one actually sanctifies IDF “service” as the most important religious duty, is outright kefira, a rebellion against Hashem.
If the steady bloodletting with little to show for it is not enough of a wake-up call to stop doubling down on more devotion to the IDF, greater demands for IDF “service”, or even more kochi v’otzem yadi outside the framework of the IDF, what will it take? Do we really want to find out?
This is one of the greatest tests of our generation, and much of our nation is failing it miserably — all because of a fundamental mistake. Military service is a camouflage for Hashem’s protection, nothing more.
If we are right with Hashem, a small army will succeed just as well — assuming Hashem bothers us to fight altogether — and if we are not right with Hashem, God forbid, a large army will only fail more spectacularly.
This is the consistent lesson from Tanach and Chazal. For all the defeats our ancestors suffered, insufficient participation in the army is never presented as the cause — not once! On the contrary, reliance on our strength and the might of our hand is frequently presented as the cause of defeat.
There is indeed an obligation to engage in this form of hishtadlus — in the proper way, to the proper degree — but only because hishtadlus is a box we need to check off, not because it is actually keeping us safe or winning our wars.
If we understood this and internalized it, the terribly destructive fracas over IDF servitude would be circumvented, we could engage in much healthier and productive discussions, and we might finally merit a true redemption.
This lesson is based on principles developed in Sha’ar HaBitachon from Chovos Halevavos and the essay on bitachon from Sefer HaMaspik L’Ovdei Hashem by Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam, both of which I taught in a series of classes years ago. The series on Chovos Halevavos began with Torah class #62, which can be found on Rumble here.
To those who would cynically ask if I would call the IDF if terrorists were attacking, I say “Maybe, if I had eight hours to spare.”
OPEN MY EYES and I will see the wonders of Your Torah” (Tehillim 119:18). Dovid HaMelech wrote those words, and they’re even more profound than they already sound. In fact, they explain why Moshiach “isn’t here” yet, and the explanation is both shocking and inspiring.
First, the Gemora says that there will be no difference between this world and the Messianic Era other than the oppression of nations and the yetzer hara (Brochos 34b), the former being the function of the latter. The question is, even though the Gemora seems to downplay the transition of the world once Moshiach is here, won’t a world without the yetzer hara be a very different world?
There is a different Gemora that talks about the war between Assyria and the Jewish People during the time of Chizkiah HaMelech (Sanhedrin 94a). The story is in Tanach (II Melachim 18:13), but the Gemora says that G–D had wanted to make Chizkiah the Moshiach and Sancheriv and his united nations army Gog and Magog, but the Attribute of Justice objected saying, “Dovid HaMelech who recited songs and praises of You You did not make Moshiach, and Chizkiah who did not You want to?”
What does that mean? Was he Moshiach or not? The war was already over and Chizkiah and his army had won against astronomical odds, making it an obvious and messianic miracle. Sancheriv had 185,000 troops built from many of the nations of that time. It WAS a war of Gog and Magog, and Chizkiah HAD BEEN Moshiach, so what is the Gemora saying? And what does it mean that the incredibly righteous Chizkiah didn’t say shirah after his wondrous victory?
Open our eyes so we can see the wonders of Your Torah…and Your Moshiach.
You know why the world won’t change much with Moshiach? It won’t have to. It is already messianic and has always been. The problem is not the world. The problem is us, and our limited vision and inability to see G–D even when we look right at Him. We’re too busy looking with our physical eyes to see clearly with our mind’s eye.
But once the yetzer hara is gone, our egos will be reduced to their “proper” size, and the veil will be lifted from our eyes, and we will marvel at how what we always saw we never really did see. With the body silenced, we will be able to look at the world through the eyes of souls, and the exact same world will look totally different.
In other worlds, though the Messianic Era may be in the future, the Messianic World is already here. We just can’t see it. When we finally do, which is what the War of Gog and Magog is for, to reframe history in terms of the final redemption, we will look back at all the events that led to it and kick ourselves for not recognizing what they really were. But sometimes we need an actual, physical, and frightening war to “inspire” the necessary mentality shift.
That’s what the Gemora means regarding Chizkiah and his war. It already had all the components to be an End of Days’ war. It just had to be seen in that light and it would have been exactly that. It’s not that Chizkiah had not profusely thanked G–D for the great victory. He had. It was that he failed to realize the extent of the victory in terms of history, and that prevented it from being the War of Gog and Magog.
Because that is what Shirah is, which learned after the crossing of the Red Sea. It’s what the Jewish People “sang” once they had miraculously crossed the sea and the Egyptians had miraculously drowned in it. It wasn’t just thanks. It was a very high level of realization, one they had yet to know until that time, expressed in words.
This is why Rashi adds that even a simple handmaid saw more at the splitting of the sea than some the greatest prophets later in history. The prophets would be great people and they would have great visions, but none of them would ever match what even a simple Jew saw, experienced, and comprehended when G–D split the sea. It was tantamount to G–D tearing open all seven heavens and giving them all a glimpse at the heart of Creation and history.
So, as we move on from another Tisha B’Av and mourning to the “Seven Weeks of Comfort,” take comfort by focusing on this. Moshiach is here. He is in every generation. The Messianic Era is all around us, already. Both are just waiting for us to see them to make them real to us as well.
* * *
Zoom class on Tisha B’Av (July 23), 3:30 PM Israel time, b”H: Third Temple, Or First One Third Time? It will livestreamed to YouTube and recorded, b”H. Meeting ID: 845 2800 4795 / Passcode: 202071.
I am very pleased to announce that Volume 3 of Sha’ar Hagilgulim has now been published through Amazon. This completes the comprehensive re-edit and re-publication, b”H.
On the same topic, Series Two of the “Sha’ar HaGilgulim Course” continues this week, b”H. For more information or to register, go to: https://www.shaarnunproductions.org/Sha-ar-HaGilgulim-Course.html.
Have a great Shabbos Nachamu.
Pinchas Winston
The ability to somehow subsume one’s own personal disappointments and even tragedies into the general picture of positive Jewish life and mission is vividly illustrated in Moshe’s response to God’s refusal to allow him to enter into the Land of Israel. Moshe does not accept the decree in a stoic, ‘what is the use’ manner but he instead uses it to impress upon the Jewish people the special good fortune that they possess in being able to enter and inhabit the Land of Israel.
Perhaps only someone who has been denied a special favor, gift or talent can truly appreciate the uniqueness of someone who possesses that favor, gift or talent. (For instance, I appreciate and love to hear great chazanim and baalei tefila though I cannot carry a tune. But I digress.)
Jews who currently can visit and, even more importantly. can dwell in our ancient homeland are pretty much blasé’ about the whole matter. We have become so comfortable and accustomed to this gift granted to us that we are even willing to forego it and some Jews even have the temerity to vilify it and claim that gift and opportunity was and is a “mistake!”
Moshe certainly would not have thought so. He breaks down the heavenly gates of prayer, so to speak, in order to gain entry into the Land of Israel. He is willing to forego his lofty office and enter the land just as plain Mr. Moshe but all to no avail.
But instead of bewailing his fate bitterly he uses the experience to encourage his people and steel them for the task and mission that life in the Land of Israel always and automatically entails.
The Jewish soul’s desire to live in the Land of Israel, a desire not diminished by thousands of years of exile and separation, is an extension of the attitude and spirit of Moshe himself. All defeats in Jewish life, no matter how expensive and devastating they may be, are still in the long run only temporary setbacks.
That is the reality of the message of this Shabat Nachamu – that comfort, consolation and triumph eventually awaits us. Perhaps it is this knowledge of God’s commitment to our survival and success that allows Moshe to move past his own personal disappointments and defeats. Moshe sees the future and spans the generations and is aware of the eternity of Israel and its never-ending attachment to the Land of Israel.
And he knows that the eventual destiny of the people of Israel is inextricably bound up with the Land of Israel. And, in the midst of his tears over his own unfulfilled hopes and wishes, he states words of encouragement and steadfast blessing to his beloved people.
It is part of the character greatness of Moshe that the people he serves always take precedence over his own personal pursuits and desires. As such, he is the model of what a Jewish religious leader should be. Even though there has never been another Moshe, his example still instructs and guides us.
Shabat shalom.
Rabbi Berel Wein
"All her pursuers overtook her 'min ha maitzar' ... between the straits." (Eichah 1:3)
These words refer to the three weeks from the Seventeenth of Tammuz to the Ninth of Av, "for in these days [the demon whose name is] Meriri is active," as it says, "the pestilence that walks in gloom .... the destroyer who lays waste at noon." (Tehillim 91, cited in Medrash Rabbah on Eichah)
"The straits" are a tight place where one cannot breathe.
I have done a bit of cave exploring in my days. Caves are dark and dangerous. There are passages so narrow that one can actually get stuck trying to pass through them. That narrow, dark passageway is what the Three Weeks feels like. Sometimes, one wonders, how will I make it through?
Current headlines offer a vivid illustration of the meaning of "min ha maitzar." The locus of the conflict between the United States and Iran is a narrow waterway called the Strait of Hormuz, which lies between the Persian Gulf and the Arabian Sea. Passing through this strait, there is no room to avoid danger.
"Min ha maitzar ... from the straits I called upon Hashem. He answered me with expansiveness." (Tehillim 118) How appropriate that in our tefillos, the references to our redemption describe a "good and spacious Land," meaning a place where we are not pinned between the straits, where we can breathe and not suffocate.
In 1948, when Medinas Yisroel was partitioned by the United Nations, the designated land area of Israel was less than ten miles wide at certain points. Only after the Six-Day War did the inhabitants of Eretz Yisroel begin to breathe more freely.
My friends, now that we have reached Shabbos Nachamu, we need a way to strengthen ourselves. We still have ahead of us a Chodesh Elul and a Rosh Hashanah on which (during the first day) we will not be blowing shofar. We need a strategy to overcome the sinas chinom which continues to plague us.
Last week, I quoted Reb Yechezkel of Kozmir, who said, "the Temple was destroyed because of sinas chinom, unwarranted hatred between Jew and Jew. It will be rebuilt because of ahavas chinom, unwarranted love." (Artscroll Yoma 9b, Footnote 18)
How do we achieve "ahavas chinom?" This is not an abstract exercise, but rather a pathway to survival. As I said last week, I know that in my own heart I harbor feelings of jealousy, anger, revenge and so on. I know these feelings are destructive - for me and for those around me -- but they are difficult to uproot.
Say that I see a negative trait in someone else. Perhaps I think he is an egotist; he fools people. It bothers me that people admire him. In truth, my attitude is illogical. Even if he possesses those negative traits, what does that have to do with me? Does it hurt me? Is it a reason to hate him? My destiny is decided by Hashem, based on my own merits, and is not influenced by the actions of other people.
Here's another scenario; this literally happened to me yesterday. I had thought someone looked down on me. I resented this and wanted people to see his "bad traits." Suddenly this person did something so kind to me! I was shocked! I realized what a fool I had been! My entire mental picture of him was askew. It was a fantasy, but it was driving a wedge between us. This was sinas chinom: a completely illogical negative feeling toward another person!
From this, I got an insight into the nature of ahavas chinom.
Ahavas chinom comes when you realize that your hatred is based on illogical fantasy. His supposed faults - if they exist -- do not affect me. My destiny is decided only on the basis of my own actions. Even if someone would steal from me, my income is decided on Rosh Hashanah. No one can take a penny away from what Hashem had decreed for me! No one's supposed ill will toward me can make even a slight dent in my destiny.
Sinas chinom is completely illogical. So ahavas chinom also has to be beyond logic!
Even if my brother seems to "deserve" my hatred I have to love him. Even if he possesses what I perceive as negative traits, even then I have to love him! Ahavas chinom means ignoring my irrelevant, negative and destructive ideas about other people and feeling kindly toward them even if that kindliness seems to be undeserved.
Here is how Rabbi Berel Wein zt"l described the Ponivezher Rav zt"l: "[He] loved all Jews -- no easy task! -- and they loved him back! He taught me that one must accept personal insults and slights for the sake of Torah." ("Teach Them Diligently," Maggid Books)
This is how we can say each night, "I hereby forgive anyone who angered or antagonized me or who sinned against me ...." That is how we can go to sleep in peace and wake up in peace. Sinas chinom leads to destruction and exile; ahavas chinom leads to peace and redemption.
"The sum of the matter, when all has been considered, fear G-d and keep His commandments, for this is man's whole duty." (Koheles 12:13) That is all we need to worry about.
The Strait of Hormuz
GLOSSARY
Chodesh Elul: the Jewish month before Rosh Hashanah
Eretz Yisroel: the Land of Israel
Medinas Yisroel: the political state called "Israel"
Shabbos Nachamu: the Shabbos after Tisha b'Av
Tefillos: prayers
Tehillim: Psalms
Tisha b'Av: the low point of the year, the day on which both Temples were destroyed
…….the Geulah process and our hopes and plans for even greater things? IY”H