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Parsha B'Iyun

A Holiday of Tears; A History of Tears

  • Devorim
  • 5783
  • English
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Our Parsha opens with the words of תּוֹכְחָה – admonition, Moshe Rabbeinu relayed to Bnei Yisrael before they entered Eretz Yisrael. Rashi notes that each of the locations named in the opening pasuk reveals an incident in which Bnei Yisrael angered Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and these past sins were relayed to Bnei Yisrael through hints rather than overtly calling them out. There are several explanations as to why Moshe Rabbeinu chose that method.

As we all know, if Mashiach does not redeem us by next week, we will once again sit on the floor and mourn the destruction of the Batei Mikdash, the second of which was taken 1945 years ago [calculated according to the year 5773]. Chazal refer to the day of Tisha B’Av as Mo’ed, based on the words of Megillat Eicha: קָרָא עָלַי מוֹעֵד לִשְׁבֹּר בַּחוּרָי (Eicha 1:15). It is referred to by this name not because it will ultimately be transformed into a festive day together with the other fasts – as we do not see the same Mo’ed rules with regards to omitting Tachanun applied to Shiva Asar B’Tammuz – but rather because of those particular words bemoaned by Yirmiyahu. Chazal say it is a מועד של בכי – a holiday of tears, quite the opposite of the holidays familiar to us and the celebration that marks them.

Shlomo HaMelech famously presents a list of times and occasions in our lives. They include (Kohelet 3:4):
עֵת לִבְכּוֹת וְעֵת לִשְׂחוֹק עֵת סְפֹוד וְעֵת רְקֹוד׃
A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.

The Targum interprets עֵת לִבְכּוֹת as the time a family weeps over the loss of a loved one. Rashi explains it differently and says: עֵת לִבְכּוֹת בְּתִשְׁעָה בְּאָב – the time to cry is on Tisha B’Av. That is the day Bnei Yisrael cry and mourn the Churban.

בָּכֹו תִבְכֶּה בַּלַּיְלָה וְדִמְעָתָהּ עַל לֶחֱיָהּ אֵין־לָהּ מְנַחֵם מִכָּל־אֹהֲבֶיהָ כָּל־רֵעֶיהָ בָּגְדוּ בָהּ הָיוּ לָהּ לְאֹיְבִים׃
She weeps sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks: among all her lovers she has none to comfort her: all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they have become her enemies.

The Gemara discusses the crying of Bnei Yisrael, its origins, and its significance (Sanhedrin 104b):

שְׁתֵּי בְכִיּוֹת הַלָּלוּ לָמָּה אָמַר רַבָּה אָמַר רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן אֶחָד עַל מִקְדָּשׁ רִאשׁוֹן וְאֶחָד עַל מִקְדָּשׁ שֵׁנִי בַּלַּיְלָה עַל עִסְקֵי לַיְלָה שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (בַּמִּדְבָּר יד, א) וַתִּשָּׂא כָּל הָעֵדָה וַיִּתְּנוּ אֶת קוֹלָם וַיִּבְכּוּ הָעָם בַּלַּיְלָה הַהוּא. אָמַר רַבָּה א"ר יוֹחָנָן אוֹתוֹ (הַיּוֹם) לֵיל ט' בְּאָב הָיָה אָמַר לָהֶן הקב"ה לְיִשְׂרָאֵל אַתֶּם בְּכִיתֶם בְּכִיָּה שֶׁל חִנָּם וַאֲנִי אֶקְבַּע לָכֶם בְּכִיָּה לְדוֹרוֹת.

These two cries, why? Rabba says that Rabbi Yocḥanan says: One over the destruction of the First Temple, and one over the destruction of the Second Temple. And why “at night”? This indicates the crying is related to what took place at night, in response to the report of the spies: “And all the congregation lifted up their voice, and the people cried that night” (Bamidbar 14:1).

Rabba says that Rabbi Yocḥanan says: That day they heard the spies’ report was the eve of the Ninth of Av. Hakadosh Baruch Hu said: You cried an unwarranted cry, and so I will establish for you a reason to cry for generations.

This is the night Hakadosh Baruch Hu determined we would cry, and the root cause – namely, the sin of the spies – is brought up by Moshe Rabbeinu, at length, once again in our Parsha. There are a few pesukim in his monologue that I would like to expand on and use as a springboard to gain a deeper understanding of Tisha B’Av and our tears. The first relates to the voices of Bnei Yisrael (Devarim 1:34):

וַיִּשְׁמַע ה' אֶת־קוֹל דִּבְרֵיכֶם וַיִּקְצֹף וַיִּשָּׁבַע לֵאמֹר׃
And the Lord heard the voice of your words, and was angry, and swore, saying,

Chazal focus on the word קוֹל, asking why it is necessary, and why we’re told קוֹל דִּבְרֵיכֶם rather than כָּל דִּבְרֵיכֶם. The Midrash says (Lekach Tov 1:34), it was not the words of Bnei Yisrael that Hakadosh Baruch Hu heard, and which sparked their punishment, but rather the sound of their tears on that night.

Siach Tzedek, written by my rebbe, Rav Tzvi Dov Karelenstein, asks a wonderful question. From the above explanation – and supporting pesukim found in the books of Yeshayahu and Yirmiyahu – it would appear the crux of Hakadosh Baruch Hu’s anger was linked to the crying of Bnei Yisrael. They cried for no reason and would thus be given a reason to cry for generations. The Mishna says (Erchin 3:5):

נִמְצָא הָאוֹמֵר בְּפִיו יָתֵר מִן הָעוֹשֶׂה מַעֲשֶׂה. שֶׁכֵּן מָצִינוּ, שֶׁלֹּא נֶחְתַּם גְּזַר דִּין עַל אֲבוֹתֵינוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר אֶלָּא עַל לָשׁוֹן הָרָע, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (במדבר יד), וַיְנַסּוּ אֹתִי זֶה עֶשֶׂר פְּעָמִים וְלֹא שָׁמְעוּ בְּקוֹלִי:

It is apparent that one who utters malicious speech with his mouth is more severe than one who performs an action. As we found that the sentence imposed on our ancestors in the wilderness was sealed only due to the malicious speech disseminated by the spies, as it states: “...yet they have tried Me these ten times and have not listened to My voice”.

Speaking negatively about Eretz Yisrael appears to be graver than even Cheit Ha’Egel, where Moshe was able to daven on behalf of Bnei Yisrael and spare them from being wiped out. That punishment was deferred, instead playing out over the course of history as a small component in every punishment we’ve received since. The sin of the spies, however, was met with immediate and firm punishment. None of the spies (except Yehoshua and Kalev) or the people who followed them were allowed to enter Eretz Yisrael, and their punishment was locked. The Gemara (Erchin 15a) goes on to point out that their act of speaking lashon hara was graver than any physical act, as evidenced by the recording of their death: וַיָּמֻתוּ הָאֲנָשִׁים מוֹצִאֵי דִבַּת־הָאָרֶץ רָעָה בַּמַּגֵּפָה לִפְנֵי ה'. They died in a plague and were characterized exclusively by their act of speaking lashon hara against Eretz Yisrael and Hakadosh Baruch Hu (who they claimed was not powerful enough to conquer the local inhabitants).

Siach Tzedek asks a wonderful question. The initial understanding from the pesukim and Midrash is that the focal point of Hakadosh Baruch Hu’s anger was connected to the crying of Bnei Yisrael, whereas the Mishna and Gemara have the speaking of lashon hara as the impetus. Tears are not mentioned at all in that second source. Which of these two causes is it? An answer to this question can be found in the words of David HaMelech (Tehillim 106:24-27):

וַיִּמְאֲסוּ בְּאֶרֶץ חֶמְדָּה לֹא־הֶאֱמִינוּ לִדְבָרוֹ׃ וַיֵּרָגְנוּ בְאָהֳלֵיהֶם לֹא שָׁמְעוּ בְּקוֹל ה'׃ וַיִּשָּׂא יָדוֹ לָהֶם לְהַפִּיל אוֹתָם בַּמִּדְבָּר׃ וּלְהַפִּיל זַרְעָם בַּגּוֹיִם וּלְזָרוֹתָם בָּאֲרָצוֹת׃

Moreover, they despised the pleasant land, they believed not his word: but murmured in their tents and did not hearken to the voice of the Lord. Therefore, He lifted up His hand against them, swearing to overthrow them in the wilderness: to cast out their seed also among the nations, and to scatter them in the lands.

The 40-year exile the generation of the spies received in the desert was a result of their speech and its ramifications. There is no mention of any crying or tears.

Siach Tzedek layers on one more question before bringing forth his main idea. The Gemara (Ta’anit 30a) brings forth the order in which Rabbi Yehuda bar Ilai ate his final meal before the commencement of Tisha B’Av:

כָּךְ הָיָה מִנְהָגוֹ שֶׁל רַבִּי יְהוּדָה בְּרַבִּי אִילְעַאי: עֶרֶב תִּשְׁעָה בְּאָב מְבִיאִין לוֹ פַּת חֲרֵבָה בְּמֶלַח, וְיוֹשֵׁב בֵּין תַּנּוּר לְכִירַיִים וְאוֹכֵל, וְשׁוֹתֶה עָלֶיהָ קִיתוֹן שֶׁל מַיִם, וְדוֹמֶה כְּמִי שֶׁמֵּתוֹ מוּטָּל לְפָנָיו.

This was the custom of Rabbi Yehuda, son of Rabbi Ilai. On the eve of the Ninth of Av, they would bring him stale bread with salt, and he would sit between the oven and the stove. He would eat his bread and drink a jug of water with it and would resemble one whose deceased relative is laid out unburied before him.

Such a person, sitting in front of their deceased family member, has no appetite regardless of when they last ate. The last thing they want to think about is food. They sit on the floor, in the least respectable and comfortable place in the house, and they weep. Examining his custom, one can quickly see where our current Seudah Mafseket customs originate, but how did he himself develop them? What precedent was he following?

The answer Rav Karelenstein brings is based on the Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni, Shelach) which depicts how the spies returned from Eretz Yisrael and persuaded Bnei Yisrael to accept their damaging report and rebuff Eretz Yisrael. Each spy targeted their own tribe and demoralized their fellow tribesmen one tent at a time, up to the point where everyone in the family burst into tears. The weeping was contagious, as its sounds quickly spread from tent to tent, sometimes without the one crying even grasping why they started shedding tears. In no time, the entire camp was wailing in unison! It is impossible to fathom the sound of five million people all crying hysterically. Those tears – בְּכִיָּה שֶׁל חִנָּם – were what triggered tears that would be for לְדוֹרוֹת. On the night of the 9th of Av each year, everyone slated to die in the desert would dig a grave and lay down in it to sleep. In the morning, Moshe Rabbeinu would declare, “צְאוּ מִקִּבְרֵיכֶם – step out from your graves,” and everyone would follow his command. Everyone except for the 15,000 chosen (by Hakadosh Baruch Hu) to die that year. This routine repeated itself the following year, albeit with 15,000 less people digging their graves. And so on, and so on, until the 40th year when the entire generation was no more. Just imagine what took place annually on the 8th of Av, when Moshe would announce that graves should once again be dug. The people knew full well that 15,000 people were about to not wake up and not climb out. What did they do? They said goodbye to one another! Each man had 60-plus children who each needed to be blessed and consoled; each had a wife; each had parents; each had siblings. Imagine all the emotional goodbyes and all the tears that were shed on that evening.

וַיִּבְכּוּ הָעָם בַּלַּיְלָה הַהוּא – They had initially cried pointlessly and shamefully; now they were given a legitimate, and painful, reason to weep en masse. The Midrash says they wept as though a family member had collapsed and died in front of them – which is essentially what took place each year, in each tent, as the 9th of Av drew near. The seuda Rabbi Yehuda bar Ilai ate prior to his fast was exactly that, modeled after the mourning of these families in the desert.

Chazal tell us that when Bnei Yisrael went into exile, they reached נְהַר פְּרָת – the Euphrates River, before finally being able to sit down and weep.

עַל נַהֲרוֹת בָּבֶל שָׁם יָשַׁבְנוּ גַּם־בָּכִינוּ בְּזָכְרֵנוּ אֶת־צִיּוֹן׃
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat, sat and wept, as we remembered Zion.

The Midrash says (Midrash Tehillim 137:1), Nebuzaradan would not let them cry on their exodus from Eretz Yisrael, and anyone caught shedding a tear was ruthlessly beaten. When asked why they could not ease their own suffering through harmless tears, Nebuzaradan replied, “Your G-d is merciful and He will respond to those tears, even returning you to your land.” Thus, Bnei Yisrael were prevented from crying throughout their journey, even as they witnessed family members dropping one by one, dying mercilessly at the sides of the road. And upon reaching the Euphrates, they drank from its harsh waters and even more died. שָׁם יָשַׁבְנוּ גַּם־בָּכִינוּ – they sat and wept, both for those who died at that moment, and for those who died on the journey from Yerushalayim but for whom tears could not be shed. They could cry there, as Nebuzaradan no longer feared them being turned around and reunited with Yerushalayim. And, at that point, they cried for the destruction of Yerushalayim as well – בְּזָכְרֵנוּ אֶת־צִיּוֹן.

The Midrash (Eicha Rabbati 3), found in in Otzar HaMidrashim, says that Yirmiyahu and Nevuchadnetzar were childhood acquaintances. Naturally, they did not learn in the same Talmud Torah, nor did they live in the same complex or hang out in the same circles, but they apparently lived in the same neighborhood and knew one another well. Nevuchadnetzar at the time was not mighty and powerful but rather עָנִי וְנִבְזֶה – poor and despised. One day, he encountered Yirmiyahu HaNavi and said, “May the day come when I will be ruler of the world. I would go up to Yerushalayim, burn down the Beit Hamikdash and the entire city, kill many of its inhabitants, and exile the rest to captivity.” This poor and detested child had dreams of ruling the world not so he could reverse his predicament and become rich and honored, but simply to afford himself the opportunity to destroy Yerushalayim. Yirmiyahu saw through Ruach Hakodesh that his words would come true, and responded, “Spare me Yerushalayim.” Nevuchadnetzar said no. Yirmiyahu then asked, “Spare me the Beit Hamikdash,” but to the same response. Yirmiyahu then pleaded, “Spare me the children – the tinnokot shel beit rabban,” but the answer remained the same. Yirmiyahu then concluded, “So what will you spare for me? We are childhood friends. Give me something, at least.” Nevuchadnetzar answered, “When I burn Yerushalayim and the Beit Hamikdash, if you come to the city, whatever you are able to salvage between daytime and nightfall – you can keep.”

The day the Beit Hamikdash was destroyed, Yirmiyahu found himself in Anatot, after being sent on a mission by Hakadosh Baruch Hu to purchase a plot of land belonging to his uncle, Chanamel (Yirmiyahu 32). From afar, he saw the cloud of smoke rising above Yerushalayim, and he recognized the Beit Hamikdash was being destroyed. He began to cry until recalling what Nevuchadnetzar promised him as a child, at which point he hurried off to Yerushalayim but only arrived after the sun had already set. He could not save anything, and cried out (Yirmiyahu 6:4):

אוֹי לָנוּ כִּי־פָנָה הַיּוֹם כִּי יִנָּטוּ צִלְלֵי־עָרֶב׃
Woe to us! for the day declines, for the shadows of the evening are lengthened.

Yalkut Shimoni (Yirmiyahu 20:7) describes the events that took place the time arrived for the Beit Hamikdash to be destroyed. Hakadosh Baruch Hu sent Yirmiyahu on a mission because as long as he remained in Yerushalayim, the city could not be destroyed. As soon as he left, an angel descended from heaven, placed his feet on the wall of Jerusalem, and proclaimed, “Let the enemies come and enter the house, for its owner is not inside. Let them plunder it, destroy it, and enter the vineyard, cutting down its vines.” The enemies then entered and deliberated as to how the Beit Hamikdash should be taken down, sitting where Shlomo HaMelech would sit and take counsel with the elders. Four angels suddenly descended, with torches in their hands, and they set the Beit Hamikdash on fire from its four corners. Four corners, so that Nevuchadnetzar could not declare or take credit for initiating its destruction in any one spot. When Yirmiyahu saw the cloud and turned back, he had initially hoped the smoke was from Korbanot, the result of Bnei Yisrael performing Teshuva. But alas, he then saw the large pile of stones where the Beit Hamikdash once stood. Yirmiyahu cried out (20:7):

פִּתִּיתַנִי ה' וָאֶפָּת חֲזַקְתַּנִי וַתּוּכָל הָיִיתִי לִשְׂחוֹק כָּל־הַיּוֹם כֻּלֹּה לֹעֵג לִי׃
You persuaded me, O Lord, and I was persuaded; You overpowered me, and You prevailed. I have become a constant laughingstock; everyone jeers at me.

On his way out of Yerushalayim with his exiled nation, he witnessed the suffering and went to the people and kissed them. Upon reaching Bavel, however, he was given the exclusive option to return to Yerushalayim, and he chose that path, wanting to tend to those who remained behind without a leader. The Midrash says, the people saw him departing and began to wail, “Yirmiyahu, how can you leave us here?” This was also part of their cries at the river’s bank. He unforgivingly replied, “Had you cried like this just once while still in Yerushalayim, you’d have not been exiled! Instead, you ignored all warnings and cry only now.”

Rabbotai, what is the meaning of בְּכִי בְּצִיּוֹן – one cry in Yerushalayim? How could such a cry help prevent the turn of events and reverse the dreadful fate of the Beit Hamikdash? Bnei Yisrael, filled with devastating tears in the desert, did not manage to shed a single one in Yerushalayim. How can that be? What is the deeper meaning behind this dichotomy?

I’d like to now focus on the destruction of the Second Beit Hamikdash and the involvement, once again, of tears. The Midrash says (Eicha Rabbah 1:23):

אָמַר רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בַּר יוֹחָאי, אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְיִשְׂרָאֵל אַתֶּם בְּכִיתֶם בְּכִיָּה שֶׁל תִּפְלוּת, סוֹפְכֶם לִהְיוֹת בּוֹכִים בְּכִיָּה שֶׁל מַמָּשׁ. וְהֵיכָן בָּכוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּכִיָּה שֶׁל תִּפְלוּת: וַיִּשְׁמַע מֹשֶׁה אֶת הָעָם בֹּכֶה לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתָיו. וַתִּשָּׂא כָּל הָעֵדָה וַיִּתְּנוּ אֶת קוֹלָם. וְהֵיכָן בָּכוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּכִיָּה שֶׁל מַמָּשׁ, רַבִּי אַיְבוּ וְרַבִּי יְהוּדָה בְּרַבִּי סִימוֹן, רַבִּי אַיְבוּ אָמַר אֶחָד בְּרָמָה וְאֶחָד בְּבָבֶל. בְּרָמָה דִּכְתִיב: קוֹל בְּרָמָה נִשְׁמָע נְהִי בְּכִי תַמְרוּרִים וגו'. בְּבָבֶל דִּכְתִיב: עַל נַהֲרוֹת בָּבֶל וגו'. אָמַר רַבִּי אַיְבוּ אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְיִשְׂרָאֵל, בִּשְׂכַר אוֹתָהּ הַבְּכִיָּה אֲנִי מַכְנִיס גָּלֻיּוֹתֵיכֶם, הֲדָא הוּא דִכְתִיב: כֹּה אָמַר ה' מִנְעִי קוֹלֵךְ מִבֶּכִי וגו' וְיֵשׁ תִּקְוָה לְאַחֲרִיתֵךְ נְאֻם ה'.

Rabbi Shimon bar Yocḥai said: Hakadosh Baruch Hu said to Israel: ‘You wept a gratuitous weeping; ultimately, you will weep a weeping of substance.’ Where did Israel weep a gratuitous weeping? “Moshe heard the people weeping according to its families”. “The entire congregation raised and sounded their voice and the people wept that night”. Where did Israel weep a weeping of substance? Rabbi Aivu said: Once in Rama and once in Babylon. In Rama, as it is written: “So said the Lord: A voice is heard in Rama, wailing, bitter weeping, Rachel is weeping for her children”. In Babylon, as it is written: “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and also wept”.

Rabbi Aivu said: Hakadosh Baruch Hu to Israel: “As a reward for that weeping, I will gather in your exiles.” As is written: “So said the Lord, restrain your voice from weeping… there is hope for your future, the utterance of the Lord”.

It is not only punishment that stems from tears, but our redemption, too, will originate from tears. The geulah will arrive because of Rachel’s precious cries for her children. At the start of Creation, we find a pasuk that reflects both our exiles and redemption (Bereshit 1:2):

וְהָאָרֶץ הָיְתָה תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ וְחֹשֶׁךְ עַל־פְּנֵי תְהוֹם וְרוּחַ אֱ-לֹהִים מְרַחֶפֶת עַל־פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם׃
And the earth was without form and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep. And a wind from G-d moved over the surface of the waters.

The Midrash says (Pesikta 34:6), this pasuk conceals the four exiles and final redemption. תֹהוּ is the exile of Bavel; וָבֹהוּ is the exile of Madai; וְחֹשֶׁךְ is the exile of Yavan; and עַל־פְּנֵי תְהוֹם is the exile of Edom. Finally, וְרוּחַ אֱ-לֹהִים מְרַחֶפֶת עַל־פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם represents the Melech HaMashiach. The exiles were prepared from the onset of Creation. The final one would be, and is indeed, עַל־פְּנֵי תְהוֹם – excruciatingly deep in duration and intensity, but it would be followed by Mashiach. And when will the Mashiach be מְרַחֶפֶת עַל־פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם – soaring over the waters? כִּי תִשְׁפְּכוּ כַמַּיִם לִבְּכֶם – When we pour out our hearts to Hakadosh Baruch Hu like water.

What rests behind the tremendous power of these tears? What secret of Redemption rests within them?

I’d like to share an idea that is partially based on the Zohar, and partially from my heart which tells me it is correct. I believe that the concept of crying, and a variation of the word בְּכִי, appears in the Torah a total of twenty times. The first time it appears is in the story of Hagar and Yishmael. After running out of water in the hot desert, Hagar placed her son under one of the bushes and sat off to the side, not wanting to see him die. וַתִּשָּׂא אֶת־קֹלָהּ וַתֵּבְךְּ – she then cried. The next time בְּכִי appears is when Avraham mourned for his wife, Sarah, and cried over her – וְלִבְכֹּתָהּ. The third time בְּכִי appears is when Eisav arrives on the scene for his bracha only to learn that his brother, Yaakov, had just left. With the bracha. After receiving a consolation prize, Eisav pledged to take revenge against his brother, and then וַיִּשָּׂא עֵשָׂו קֹלוֹ וַיֵּבְךְּ – he cried. בְּכִי next appears in Yaakov’s reaction to seeing Rachel for the first time: וַיִּשַּׁק יַעֲקֹב לְרָחֵל וַיִּשָּׂא אֶת־קֹלוֹ וַיֵּבְךְּ. Several years later, during his return home, he encountered Eisav and we once again find בְּכִי as the two embrace: וַיִּבְכּוּ. The next time בְּכִי appears is when the ten brothers of Yosef brought a bloodied coat to their father, asking if he recognized it. Yaakov, believing his son was killed, responded in tears: וַיֵּבְךְּ אֹתוֹ אָבִיו.

The next eight occurrences of בְּכִי all share something in common. Amazingly, they all pivot around Yosef HaTzaddik. Furthermore, there is no mention of בְּכִי when it comes to the other shevatim – only Yosef and Binyamin. They are the only two who cry – Yosef eight times, and Binyamin once:

  • When the brothers arrive in Egypt, Yosef recognizes them, speaks to them harshly, and then turns around to cry: וַיִּסֹּב מֵעֲלֵיהֶם וַיֵּבְךְּ.
  • Upon seeing Binyamin, Yosef is overtaken by emotions and steps out to cry: וַיְבַקֵּשׁ לִבְכּוֹת וַיָּבֹא הַחַדְרָה וַיֵּבְךְּ שָׁמָּה.
  • After hearing Yehuda’s emotional plea, Yosef can longer contain himself, and just prior to revealing his identity, he orders everyone out and cries: וַיִּתֵּן אֶת־קֹלוֹ בִּבְכִי.
  • Yosef and Binyamin then cried on each other’s shoulders: וַיִּפֹּל עַל־צַוְּארֵי בִנְיָמִן־אָחִיו וַיֵּבְךְּ וּבִנְיָמִן בָּכָה עַל־צַוָּארָיו.
  • Yosef then turned to the rest of his brothers, kissed them, and cried: וַיְנַשֵּׁק לְכָל־אֶחָיו וַיֵּבְךְּ עֲלֵהֶם. Of note, we are told they then began to speak to him, but there is no mention of them crying together with Yosef.
  • After meeting his father and brothers as they arrived, Yosef once again cries: וַיִּפֹּל עַל־צַוָּארָיו וַיֵּבְךְּ עַל־צַוָּארָיו עוֹד. Rashi notes, he wept greatly and continuously — more than is usual.
  • When his father, Yaakov, died, Yosef once again cried: וַיִּפֹּל יוֹסֵף עַל־פְּנֵי אָבִיו וַיֵּבְךְּ עָלָיו. Interestingly, we are told that Egypt also cried for thirty days, yet, once again, there is no mention of the other brothers following suit.
  • Finally, when the brothers approach Yosef to beg for forgiveness, he cries one last time: וַיֵּבְךְּ יוֹסֵף בְּדַבְּרָם אֵלָיו.

These are all the instances I counted, and I do not understand what is going on here! Yosef cries over his brothers six times, and he did so individually for each brother, resulting in far more than six instances. Yet, none of his ten brothers cried. Not even once. I’ve heard it suggested that they were in a state of shock, but I have a hard time believing that. Shock for so long? And why did that shock not affect Binyamin? Could it be because he was not party to the original plan to dispose of Yosef and therefore didn’t fear any repercussions? Perhaps, but that doesn’t explain why the other brothers didn’t cry at the foot of their dying father’s bed either. This was years later, yet only Yosef cried. And when the brothers came to ask Yosef for forgiveness, Yosef should be the one that cries? That seems quite illogical. There clearly seems to be more behind this pattern.

Remarkably, none of the ten brothers foresaw the destruction of the Batei Mikdash or wept over them. When Yosef and Binyamin fell on each other’s shoulders, however, Rashi explains based on the Midrash (Bereshit Rabbah 93:12), that Yosef wept over the destruction of the Batei Mikdash in Binyamin’s territory, while Binyamin wept over the destruction of Mishkan Shiloh which sat in Yosef’s territory. They both saw these sorrowful outcomes through Ruach Hakodesh, yet the other brothers seem to have lacked such an ability.

Allow me to share a yesod that finds its foundation in the ideas of Chazal, including the Sefer HaYashar, whose narrative presents what unfolded at the pivotal moment when Yosef was cast into the pit by his brothers. The following are incredibly powerful excerpts (Vayeishev 4):

וַיִּקְרָא יוֹסֵף מִתּוֹךְ הַבּוֹר אֶל אֶחָיו וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵיהֶם, מֶה עָשִׂיתִי לָכֶם וּמָה חָטָאתִי לָמָּה לֹא תִּרְאוּ מִפְּנֵי ה' בַּעֲדִי. הֲלֹא אָנֹכִי עַצְמְכֶם וּבְשַׂרְכֶם וְיַעֲקֹב אֲבִיכֶם אָבִי הוּא, וְלָמָּה תַּעֲשׂוּ לִי הַדָּבָר הַזֶּה הַיּוֹם וְאֵיךְ תִּשְּׂאוּ פְנֵיכֶם לִפְנֵי יַעֲקֹב אָבִי. וַיְהִי צוֹעֵק וְקוֹרֵא אֶל אֶחָיו מִתּוֹךְ הַבּוֹר וַיֹּאמַר, יְהוּדָה רְאוּבֵן שִׁמְעוֹן וְלֵוִי אַחַי שָׂאוּנִי מִמַּחְשַׁכִּים אֲשֶׁר שַׂמְתֶּם אוֹתִי בּוֹ וּרְאוּ הַיּוֹם אֶת פְּנֵי ה' וְאֶת פְּנֵי יַעֲקֹב אָבִי. וְאִם אֲנִי חָטָאתִי לָכֶם, הֲלֹא בְּנֵי אַבְרָהָם יִצְחָק וְיַעֲקֹב אַתֶּם, אֲשֶׁר אִם רָאוּ יָתוֹם עָלָיו יְרַחֲמוּ וְאִם רָעֵב יַאֲכִילוּהוּ לֶחֶם וְאִם צָמֵא יַשְׁקוּהוּ מַיִם וְאִם עָרֹם יְכַסּוּהוּ. וְאֵיךְ אַתֶּם לֹא תְרַחֲמוּ עַל אֲחֵיכֶם כִּי עַצְמְכֶם וּבְשַׂרְכֶם אָנִי, וְאִם חָטָאתִי אֲלֵיכֶם הֲלֹא תַעֲשׂוּ בַּעֲבוּר אָבִי. וְיוֹסֵף מְדַבֵּר אֶת כָּל הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה מִתּוֹךְ הַבּוֹר, וְלֹא שָׁמְעוּ אֶחָיו אֵלָיו וְלֹא הִטּוּ אֶת אָזְנֵיהֶם לְכָל דִּבְרֵי יוֹסֵף וַיְהִי צוֹעֵק וּבוֹכֶה בְּתוֹךְ הַבּוֹר. וַיֹּאמֶר יוֹסֵף, מִי יִתֵּן וְיֵדַע אָבִי הַיּוֹם אֶת הַמַּעֲשֶׂה אֲשֶׁר עָשׂוּ לִי אַחַי וְאֶת הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר דִּבְּרוּ אֵלַי הַיּוֹם. וַיִּשְׁמְעוּ כָּל אֶחָיו אֶת צַעֲקָתוֹ וְאֶת בְּכִיָּתוֹ בְּתוֹךְ הַבּוֹר, וַיֵּלְכוּ אֶחָיו וַיִּתְרַחֲקוּ מִן הַבּוֹר לְמַעַן לֹא יִשְׁמְעוּ אֶת צַעֲקַת יוֹסֵף וְאֶת בְּכִיָּתוֹ בַּבּוֹר. וַיֵּלְכוּ וַיֵּשְׁבוּ מִנֶּגֶד הַרְחֵק כִּמְטַחֲוֵי קֶשֶׁת, וַיֵּשְׁבוּ שָׁם לֶאֱכֹל לֶחֶם.

And Yoseph cried out from the pit to his brothers: “What have I done to you and what is my sin, and why do you not fear the Lord concerning me? Am I not your bone and flesh and is not Yaakov, your father, my father too? Why are you doing this and how will you ever be able to look at Yaakov our father?” And he was crying and calling out to his brothers from the pit: “Yehuda! Shimon! Levi! My brothers! Raise me from this dark place where you placed me, and have mercy upon me this day, children of the Lord and sons of my father Yaakov. And supposing that I have sinned against you, are you not the sons of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, who when they saw an orphan had pity with him, and when they found one hungry they gave him bread to eat, and if he was thirsty they gave him water to drink, and if he was naked they covered him with garments. And how can you withdraw your compassion from your own brother, of your own flesh and bone, and even if I have sinned against you, surely you ought to do it for the sake of my father!” And Yoseph spoke all these words from the midst of the pit but his brothers did not listen nor did they incline their ears to his supplication, and he was still crying and weeping in the pit. And Yoseph said: “Oh that my father should know what my brothers have done to me and what they said to me on this day.” And Yoseph’s brothers heard the weeping and lamentation of their brother, and they moved away in order not to hear his crying in the pit. And they seated themselves at a distance of about a bowshot, and they sat down there to eat.

Soon after, Yosef found himself on a caravan headed down to Egypt, and the Sefer HaYashar continues:

וַיֵּלְכוּ הָאֲנָשִׁים בַּדֶּרֶךְ וַיַּעַבְרוּ מִדֶּרֶךְ אֶפְרָת, אֲשֶׁר עִם קְבוּרַת רָחֵל. וַיַּגִּיעַ יוֹסֵף עַד קֶבֶר אִמּוֹ וִימַהֵר וַיָּרָץ יוֹסֵף אֶל קֶבֶר אִמּוֹ וַיֹּאמֶר, אִמִּי אִמִּי רְאִי אֶת בְּנֵךְ אֵיךְ יוֹלַדְתֵּנִי עוּרִי וְקוּמִי וּנִמְכַּר לְעֶבֶד וְאֵין מְרַחֵם. קוּמִי וּרְאִי בְּנֵךְ וְהַבִּיטִי אֵלָיו וּרְאִי, אֶת דִּמְעוֹת עֵינַי הַנּוֹזְלוֹת עַל לְחָיָי. אִמִּי אִמִּי עוּרִי וְהָקִיצִי קוּמִי וּרְאִי אֶת בְּנֵךְ וּבְכִי עִמּוֹ עַל צָרָתוֹ, וּרְאִי אֶת לֵב אַחַי הָאַכְזָרִי. עוּרִי אִמִּי עוּרִי וְהָקִיצִי מִשְּׁנָתָיִךְ, עִמְדִי וְעֶרְכִי מִלְחֲמוֹתַיִךְ נֶגֶד אַחַי אֵיכָה הִפְשִׁיטוּ אוֹתִי מִכֻּתָּנְתִּי. וַיִּמְכְּרוּ אוֹתִי לְעֶבֶד זֶה פַּעֲמַיִם, וַיַּפְרִידוּ אוֹתִי מֵאָבִי וְאֵין מְרַחֵם. עוּרִי וְעֶרְכִי אֶת טַעֲנוֹתַיִךְ נֶגְדָּם לִפְנֵי הָאֱלֹקִים, וּרְאִי אֶת מִי יַצְדִּיק הָאֱלֹקִים בַּמִּשְׁפָּט וְאֶת מִי יַרְשִׁיעַ. וְיוֹסֵף עוֹד לְדַבֵּר כִּדְבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה וַיִּצְעַק וַיֵּבְךְּ יוֹסֵף בְּכִי גָדוֹל עַל קֶבֶר אִמּוֹ וַיְכַל לְדַבֵּר, וַיִּדֹּם כְּאֶבֶן עַל הַקֶּבֶר מִמַּר לִבּוֹ.

And the men continued their journey and they passed Efrat, the place where Rachel was buried. And when Yoseph came near his mother's grave, he ran to the grave and he fell upon it and wept. And he cried out loudly upon his mother's grave, saying: “Oh my mother, my mother, who gave birth to me, awake and arise now to see your son sold into slavery with no one to have compassion upon him. Oh arise to look at your son, and weep with me in my affliction, and see the hearts of my brothers. Oh my mother arouse and awake and direct your warfare against my brothers, who have stripped me of my coat and sold me into slavery now for the second time, and have torn me away from my father where there is no one to have pity upon me. Arouse and bring complaints against them before the Lord and see who is to be justified in the judgment and who is to be condemned.” And Yoseph spoke continually to his mother; and he cried aloud and wept bitterly upon his mother's grave; and he ceased speaking and from the bitterness of his heart he became silent like a stone upon the grave.

Yosef then heard a voice call out from below the ground:

בְּנִי בְּנִי יוֹסֵף בְּנִי, שָׁמַעְתִּי אֶת קוֹל בְּכִיָּתְךָ וְאֶת קוֹל צַעֲקוֹתֶיךָ וְרָאִיתִי אֶת דִּמְעוֹתֶיךָ. יָדַעְתִּי אֶת צָרָתְךָ בְּנִי וַיֵּצֶר לִי עָלֶיךָ וַתּוֹסֶף לִי יָגוֹן עַל יְגוֹנִי. וְעַתָּה בְּנִי יוֹסֵף בְּנִי חַכֵּה אֶת ה' וְהִתְחוֹלֵל לוֹ וְאַל תִּירָא כִּי ה' עִמָּךְ, הוּא יַצִּיל אוֹתְךָ מִכָּל צָרָה. קוּם בְּנִי וְלֵךְ לְךָ מִצְרַיְמָה עִם אֲדוֹנֶיךָ וְאַל תִּירָא כִּי הָאֱלֹקִים עִמָּךְ בְּנִי, וַתּוֹסֶף לְדַבֵּר אֶל יוֹסֵף כַּדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה וַתִּדֹּם.

My son Yoseph, oh my son, I have heard the voice of your weeping and crying, and I have seen your tears and I know your affliction, oh my son. It grieves me for your sake, oh my son. And new sorrow has been added to my sorrow. And now my son Yoseph, trust in the Lord and wait for his help and do not fear, for He is with you to deliver you from all trouble. Arise my son and go down with your masters to Egypt, and do not fear for the Lord is with you, my son. And she continued to speak to Yoseph according to these words and then she was silent.

One gets goosebumps when reading the above texts. It is heartbreaking to think how many tears Yosef shed during this incident and during the days and years which followed his brothers tossing him into the pit.

I’d like to try and put together the story and understand what exactly is taking place. Yosef was the only one who saw through Ruach HaKodesh that the two Batei Mikdash would stand in Binyamin’s territory and would be destroyed. Why did only he merit seeing this? The Midrash says (Tanchuma Vayigash 10), all misfortunes that befell Yosef likewise befell Yerushalayim, and everything fortunate that occurred to Yosef likewise happened to Yerushalayim. The Midrash then presents a two-page list of parallels and their supporting pesukim, each reinforcing the special bond between Yosef and Yerushalayim, followed by one final link related to Yosef comforting his brothers, kissing each and crying on each:

וּכְשֵׁם שֶׁלֹּא פִיֵּס יוֹסֵף אֶת אֶחָיו אֶלָּא מִתּוֹךְ בִּכְיָה, כָּךְ כְּשֶׁיִּגְאַל הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אֶת יִשְׂרָאֵל, מִתּוֹךְ בִּכְיָה הוּא גוֹאֲלָם, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: בִּבְכִי יָבֹאוּ וּבְתַחֲנוּנִים אוֹבִילֵם (ירמיה לא, ח).

Just as Yoseph comforted his brothers while they were weeping, so Hakadosh Baruch Hu will redeem Israel while she weeps, as it is said: They shall come with weeping, and with supplications will I lead them.

Yosef is connected to Yerushalayim in every which way and his descent to Egypt symbolizes Bnei Yisrael’s exile from Yerushalayim. Chazal say, Yaakov Avinu experienced a personal preview of the four exiles that Bnei Yisrael would experience in the future. The First Beit Hamikdash was destroyed due to the three sins of Avodah Zara, Gilui Arayot, and Shfichut Damim – idolatry, illicit relations, and murder. The Second Beit Hamikdash was destroyed on account of Sinat Chinam – baseless hatred. Seventy years following the first Churban, those three cardinal sins were corrected, and the Beit HaMikdash rebuilt. But here we are, 1945 years after the second Churban [as of 5773], and its lone transgression was not fixed.

The Rama MiPano says, the Mishna (Bava Kamma 1:1) teaches us there are four primary categories of damage (אֲבוֹת נְזִיקִין): הַשּׁוֹר וְהַבּוֹר וְהַמַּבְעֶה וְהַהֶבְעֵר – the ox, the pit, the tooth, and the fire; and each represents a monumental sin of Bnei Yisrael. The ox reflects Cheit Ha’egel, the pit reflects Mechirat Yosef, and the tooth reflects Cheit Ha’meraglim, the sin of the spies where lashon hara was spoken. These three brought about the fourth – fire, which destroyed our Batei Mikdash on the ninth of Av. More specifically, the sin of the golden calf and sin of the spies – i.e., their underlying and catalyst sins – together brought about the fire that destroyed the First Beit Hamikdash, and the underlying sin of Mechirat Yosef brought about the fire of the second Churban.

If Yosef and Yerushalayim are the same (note: the gematria of יוֹסֵף equals that of צִיּוֹן), we can understand what Yosef told his brothers: מְרַגְלִים אַתֶּם – you are spies! He saw that from them would come spies, the very spies at the center of Cheit HaMeraglim. They were spies and not him, as from the tribe of Ephraim would come Yehoshua bin Nun. (Yehuda responded, “לֹא הָיוּ עֲבָדֶיךָ מְרַגְלִים,” because from him would come Kalev ben Yefuneh, who like Yehoshua would not speak negatively about the land.) They were equated to the spies on whose account the First Beit Hamikdash would be destroyed. The Second Beit Hamikdash, destroyed because of the pit, also came from the story of Yosef and his brothers. וַיִּשְׂנְאוּ אֹתוֹ וְלֹא יָכְלוּ דַּבְּרוֹ לְשָׁלֹם – it was at that moment that hatred amongst brothers was hatched, and Sinat Chinam born. They left him to cry in a pit and all the way down to Egypt. Nobody cared, other than to distance themselves from the inconvenient noise of it all.

The Zohar writes (Shemot), as soon as Sinat Chinam reared its ugly head during the times of the Second Beit Hamikdash, the sin of Mechirat Yosef was resurrected. All the tears Yosef shed in the pit and at his mother’s grave – we are now paying the price for them.

Ask any pious yid why the Second Beit Hamikdash was destroyed, and they will likely respond, “Because of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza,” referring to the famous story (Gittin 55b) where due to a mistaken identity and baseless hatred one individual was embarrassed publicly and nobody stepped in to protect him. I always thought this was the makeh bapatish of the Churban – the final act that sealed the deal. However, just a few pages later in the same Gemara (Gittin 58a), there is another story whose gravity is comparable. The Gemara says the execution may have taken place with Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, but the verdict was sealed earlier.

The second story involves a certain man who set his eyes on his master’s wife, and he was a carpenter’s apprentice (shulya d’nagara). One time, his master needed to borrow some money, and the apprentice said to him, “Send your wife and I’ll lend her the money.” He sent his wife and the apprentice stayed with her for three days. He then went back to his master before she did, and the master said to him, “Where is my wife?” The apprentice responded, “I sent her back immediately, but I heard that the youth abused and raped her on the way.” The master replied, “What shall I do?” The apprentice answered, “My suggestion is to divorce her.” The master then said, “But her marriage contract is large, and I can’t afford to pay it,” to which the apprentice said, “I’ll lend you the money.” The master proceeded to divorce her, and the apprentice then went and married her. When the time came that the debt was due, and the master did not have the means with which to repay it, the apprentice said to him, “Come and work off your debt with me.” The apprentice and his wife would sit and eat and drink, while the woman’s first husband would stand over them and serve them their drinks. Tears would drop from his eyes and fall into their cups, and it was at that time Bnei Yisrael’s sentence was sealed, for remaining silent in the face of this injustice.

I ask myself, which of these two stories is worse. The story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, or the story of shulya d’nagara? I don’t know the answer, as both are horrible incidents. But there is one thing I am certain of, and that is the second incident involved a man crying. The master, whose wife was slyly taken from him, and whose dignity and livelihood were cruelly stolen, shed tears. Those tears aroused the sin of Mechirat Yosef and they sparked the Churban. I know this because it was not the lashon hara of Cheit HaMeraglim that pained Hakadosh Baruch Hu. It was the tears that Bnei Yisrael gratuitously shed which led to generations of mourning and crying. Those tears aroused the tears of Yosef and they were the decisive cause for the destruction of the Second Beit Hamikdash.

We can now understand a tremendous yesod. The Zohar says (Shemot 12:2 – translated to Hebrew):

אָמַר רַבִּי יְהוּדָה, לֶעָתִיד לָבֹא מַה כָּתוּב? בִּבְכִי יָבֹאוּ וּבְתַחֲנוּנִים וְגוֹ'. מַהוּ בִּבְכִי יָבֹאוּ? בִּזְכוּת בְּכִי שֶׁל אֵם הַיֶּלֶד, שֶׁהִיא רָחֵל, יָבוֹאוּ וְיִתְכַּנְּסוּ מֵהַגָּלוּת. וְאָמַר רַבִּי יִצְחָק, הַגְּאֻלָּה שֶׁל יִשְׂרָאֵל לֹא תְלוּיָה אֶלָּא רַק בִּבְכִי, כְּשֶׁיֻּשְׁלְמוּ וְיִכְלוּ בְּכִי הַדְּמָעוֹת שֶׁבָּכָה עֵשָׂו לִפְנֵי אָבִיו, שֶׁכָּתוּב וַיִּשָּׂא עֵשָׂו קֹלוֹ וַיֵּבְךְּ. אמר רבי יוסי, אותו בכי שבכה עשו וְאוֹתָן דְּמָעוֹת הוֹרִידוּ אֶת יִשְׂרָאֵל לַגָּלוּת. כֵּיוָן שֶׁיִּכְלוּ אוֹתָן דְּמָעוֹת בַּבְּכִיָּה שֶׁל יִשְׂרָאֵל, יֵצְאוּ מִגָּלוּתָם, זֶהוּ שֶׁכָּתוּב: בִּבְכִי יָבֹאוּ וּבְתַחֲנוּנִים אוֹבִילֵם.

Rabbi Yehuda said, "In the future to come, what is written? 'They shall come with weeping and with supplications.' What does it mean by 'with weeping'? It is due to the merit of the weeping of the mother of the child – Rachel. They shall come and enter from the exile, accompanied by her heartfelt tears." Rabbi Yitzchak added, "The redemption of Israel depends solely on weeping. When they are paid in full and their tears are exhausted, like the weeping that Eisav wept before his father Yitzchak, as it is written, 'And Eisav lifted up his voice and wept.' Rabbi Yossi said, 'Those tears shed by Eisav brought Israel into exile.' But once Israel has finished shedding their tears through their own weeping, they will be redeemed. This is what is meant by the verse, 'They shall come with weeping and with supplications, I will lead them.'"

The Zohar tells us that Eisav cried after Yaakov received the blessing, and as a result, Bnei Yisrael needs to cry to overcome those tears of his. Commentators ask on this idea from the Zohar, why is it that only Yosef and Binyanim are found to cry, and not all the original Bnei Yisrael? Additionally, why only Yaakov and Rachel? Why is crying so selective?

The answer is based on the Ramban, who says that when pushed to send Binyamin back to Egypt with his brothers, Yaakov Avinu says, “אַתֶּם יְדַעְתֶּם כִּי שְׁנַיִם יָלְדָה־לִּי אִשְׁתִּי” – You know that my wife bore me two sons.” Two sons? One wife? What about his wife Leah who gave birth to six sons? How could Yaakov Avinu make such a seemingly false statement? The Ramban points out, the only times we find the term אִשְׁתִּי in the context of Yaakov, is with regards to Rachel. Nobody else carries that title because it was only Rachel that Yaakov went to Charan to marry. Lavan may have snuck Leah into the equation, but that was not Yaakov’s intent. When the Torah lists the members of Bnei Yisrael heading down to Egypt it says explicitly: בְּנֵי רָחֵל אֵשֶׁת יַעֲקֹב יוֹסֵף וּבִנְיָמִן. It does not say the same for Leah.

The Gemara says (Bava Kamma 50a):
כָּל הָאוֹמֵר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא וַתְּרָן הוּא יִוָּתְרוּ חַיָּיו
Anyone who says Hakadosh Baruch Hu is yielding [vateran] of transgressions, his life will be relinquished [yivatru].

Hakadosh Baruch Hu does not waive heavenly justice. Hakadosh Baruch Hu is מַאֲרִיךְ אַפּוֹ – He lengthens his anger and does not rush to settle a score (lest a person does Teshuva). There is no situation in which one can cause pain to his neighbor and get away with it. Just look at how long He will wait! Eisav screamed out – וַיִּצְעַק צְעָקָה גְדֹלָה וּמָרָה עַד־מְאֹד! and one thousand years later repayment arrived when Mordechai was informed of Haman’s decree and in turn screamed out – וַיִּזְעַק זְעָקָה גְדֹלָה וּמָרָה. Chazal say, Mordechai was an Ish Yemini, a member of the tribe of Binyamin, the son of Yaakov Avinu. Yaakov caused Eisav to cry, and as a result, his descendants – שְׁנַיִם יָלְדָה־לִּי אִשְׁתִּי: Yosef and Binyamin, from Rachel his wife – would in turn experience the same. This is why we find only Yaakov, Rachel, Yosef, and Binyanim as the ones who cry.

We have learned that there is not a single tear that goes to waste. Even the tears of Eisav, the wicked, did not go to waste. The tears caused by Yaakov Avinu led to the tears of tzaddikim being shed, and we are still paying a price for those tears today. The sin of Mechirat Yosef is still alive in our midst, reignited through each act of Sinat Chinam that has plagued us throughout our history. The tears of Yosef are still felt today, as are the tears of Binyanim. We await and yearn for the Third Beit Hamikdash to descend from Shamayim, but it will do so only when brought down by Ahavat Chinam – unconditional love for one another.

יְהִי רָצוֹן לְפָנֶיךָ שׁוֹמֵעַ קוֹל בִּכְיוֹת. שֶׁתָּשִׂים דִּמְעוֹתֵינוּ בְּנֹאדְךָ לִהְיוֹת. וְתַצִּילֵנוּ מִכָּל גְּזֵרוֹת אַכְזָרִיּוֹת. כִּי לְךָ לְבַד עֵינֵינוּ תְלוּיוֹת.

May it be Your will, You Who hears the voice of weeping, that You place our tears in Your flask of tears for preservation; and save us from all cruel decrees, for to You alone do our eyes focus.

May it be His will that He turns to and accepts our tears, and the tears shed by all generations over the destruction of the Batei Mikdash, and ultimately the tears of Rachel Imeinu who was promised that hers would be answered. May we merit a return to the rebuilt Yerushalayim speedily in our days.