We are not only in the midst of the Three Weeks and about to usher in the Nine Days, but our current state seems precarious as well. Although we have seen incredible signs of the Yad Hashem in the war with Iran, many of the hostages have already been murdered in cold blood and those who are still alive are in grave danger. Anti-Semitism is proliferating throughout the world, and here in New York, an avowed anti-Semite may become mayor of the city with the largest number of Jews outside of Eretz Yisroel.
What are we to think or say?
Chazal (Taanis 30b) have given us a glimpse into the answer. “Whoever mourns for Yerushalayim is zocheh (merits) and sees her consolation.” The word zocheh and roeh (sees) are in the present tense, indicating that even in the midst of the aveilus itself, those who mourn will instantly be comforted. How can that possibly be and what is the nature of that condolence?
Rav Yonasan David, rosh yeshivas Pachad Yitzchok in Yerushalayim, published two volumes (Sefer Menachem Tzion) of maamarim about this time of the year and dealt at length (Volume 2, second maamar) with this issue. I would like to share part of his response, with the addition of its contemporary application. He cites the Gemara (Bava Kamma 59b) about Eliezer Zei’ra, who actually got into trouble for apparently mourning for Yerushalayim excessively. He walked in the marketplace of his city in Babylonia named Nahardoi wearing black shoes. The rabbonon of the time felt that he was unworthy of this public display of aveilus and actually had him locked up. He eventually proved that he was in fact a talmid chochom who was qualified to do so and was released. We need to understand the significance of black shoes as a sign of mourning and why not everyone is entitled to display this in public.
Rav Yonasan notes the fact that Megillas Eichah follows the pattern of the Alef-Bais. However, only the first chapter utilizes the Hebrew alphabet perfectly in order. In the other four, the letter pey precedes the letter ayin. Chazal (Sanhedrin 104b) explain the significance of this discrepancy by a reference to the meraglim, who caused Klal Yisroel to cry in vain, which in turn led Hashem to punish us with something horrific to cry about, the destruction of the Bais Hamikdosh (Bamidbar Rabbah 16:20). In other words, the meraglim put their peh (mouth) before their ayin (eyes) by speaking lashon hara about Eretz Yisroel before they saw the reality that was the goodness of the Land.
Rav Yonasan explains why the first chapter retains the Alef-Bais in its perfect order. The reason is that when something is out of order in the Torah, it is to teach us that something is amiss. We have done something wrong that needs to be corrected. We have gone in the wrong direction and need to turn around. Megillas Eicha and Chazal (Gittin, Perek Hanizakin, Yoma 9a, etc.) enumerate and elaborate upon the exact sins that caused each of the destructions. That is represented by the seemingly wrong order in the Alef-Bais. The first chapter, however, establishes for us that even when things seem to be random, chaotic or haphazard, Hashem is still very much in charge. The statement is made that there is indeed order in the universe and sublime purpose in His myriad decisions.
Rav Yonasan offers many examples of this process, where the seemingly correct order is in fact not what it appears to be. These include the birth of Eisav before Yaakov (Rashi, Bereishis 25:26) and the beginning of the Torah itself. The first Rashi in Chumash explains that the Torah should have begun with the mitzvah of Kiddush Hachodesh, but actually starts with creation to establish that Hashem created the world, including Eretz Yisroel, and gave the land temporarily to some nations but later gifted it to us. Thus, the very beginning set the record straight, regardless of what would come later. Megillas Eichah, too, sets forth the axiom that there is no disorder or anarchy in the world. Even if centuries and millennia pass without the proper order, we know that the apparent chaos is only temporary. He proves this from the very beginning of creation where Hashem created Gan Eden with every tree in its place (see Ramban to Bereishis 2:8), even though some of the grasses seemed to be in disarray. The purpose of the world is Moshiach and Gan Eden, which are perfect. All else is part of the long road that leads to fulfillment and perfection.
The sages, who were unaware of Eliezer Zeira’s greatness – indeed, he was called Ze’ira, meaning the Small, because of his humility – punished him for what they thought was hubris. It was not that he wore the black shoes of mourning, but that he did so on the road. They knew that not everyone is capable of seeing the pattern in Hashem’s ways while we are still on the path. Eliezer Ze’ira did appreciate and understand that all of our suffering through the ages is necessary to achieve the ultimate goals of geulah and yeshuah. That is why the Gemara used the present tense to promise nechomah to those who mourn properly. They will see light even in the midst of the darkness, but the chachomim of Nahardoi felt that this privilege is limited to the few, not to everyone.
Yirmiyahu Hanovi knew that before he depicts the terrifying phenomenon of churban – where the Alef-Bais is out of order – he must first establish that there is seder in what seems, G-d forbid, to be chaos. Thus, the opening chapter of Eicha must follow the Alef-Bais in order throughout. Then, and only then, can we deal with the tragedies, the pain and suffering, the widows and orphans for whom we mourn. Yes, Eisav emerges first, but Yaakov was created first and is the true bechor. The process was not visible and we must suffer with the illusion for a while. The truth, however, will emerge, even though it will not come until the time when “the saviors will ascend Mount Zion to judge the mountain of Eisav and the kingdom will be Hashem’s” (Ovadiah 1:21).
Rav Yonasan David has much more to say about this, but I would like to cite a few other sources that will help us apply this approach to our current situation. The Arizal (Likkutei Torah, Parshas Ki Sisa, quoted by the Sefas Emes on Parshas Balak) on the posuk of “chag laHashem mochor” (Shemos 32:5) explains that when Moshiach comes, the seventeenth of Tammuz will become a great Yom Tov. The reason is that in this world, we cannot fully appreciate the tragedy of the churban and its purpose, but in the future world, it will become clear that it was both necessary and beneficial.
We all know that the Three Weeks are hinted at in the posuk that states, “All her pursuers overtook her bein hametzorim – in narrow straits” (Eicha 1:3). But the Chassidic seforim (see, for instance, Zichron Shmuel, Parshas Pinchos; Avodas Yisroel, Avos 2:17) explain this phrase to mean “those who pursue the Shechinah [meaning that they truly want to come closer to Hashem] will be able to reach their goal (hisiguha).” Others (Imrei Pinchos, “Bein Hametzorim”) point out that although these are called “yemei katnus – days of spiritual smallness,” they also allow us to examine ourselves and see our faults and limitations. According to still others (Kozhnitzer Maggid in Avodas Yisroel, Avos 3:1), when we are down and realize how we have fallen, we can grow tremendously from the experience.
This brings us back to the present. When we are indeed faced with anti-Semitism at every turn, when our virulent enemies have become accepted in polite society and even more popular than the more decent and less dangerous candidates, we must realize that we are entering the final road to geulah.
Rav Naftoli Ropshitzer (Sifsei Kedoshim, Likkutei Ropshitz) even adds that when we demonstrate that we have not lost faith despite the tensions and tests we are undergoing, we can soar ever higher in the stratospheres of spiritual elevation.
In short, while it seems as if we are in dire times, the straits are also stairs to the gates of Shomayim, where our tefillos will, indeed, G-d willing, be heard positively by Hashem, who will grant our deepest wishes for geulah and yeshuah bemeheirah beyomeinu.
