Part I. Looking Back
Mourning Thoughtfully
The Churban Beis Hamikdash, although it took place thousands of years ago, is of such significance that the entire Am Yisroel together observes it every year in a national day of mourning. And the truth is, it’s not only Tisha B’Av; on numerous occasions throughout the year we remind ourselves of our mourning. It's on the mind of every loyal Jew every day. It's in our daily tefillos too.
Now, if this subject is so important, then it’s not enough to merely go along with the impression that we gained as children and to continue living with those same childish impressions. When we approach the mitzvah to mourn, it’s important to prepare at least somewhat beforehand so that when Tisha B’Av comes, we won’t walk into this important day on the Jewish calendar empty-handed. And we won’t walk out empty-handed either.
Now, the truth is that even if you’re just sitting on the floor and saying the kinnos along with everyone else, it’s valuable. Even if you don’t understand the meaning of the words, just the fact that you’re joining in the national mourning, that already is something. Of course, it’s good to take a peek at the translation, if you have it. You can get a translation of the kinnos and of Eicha and study it beforehand. But even if you didn’t, you’re sitting on the ground and you’re saying words of mourning that our people have said for thousands of years, that’s already something.
Mourn and Gain
But the best thing is to think; to take advantage of Tisha B’Av. We have to listen to the advice of a great man, Shlomo HaMelech, in Koheles (ch. 3): ןָמ¿ז לֹּכַל – There’s a time for everything. It means that for every kind of perfection of character, there’s a zman, a time. There are so many different times during the year and each one is an opportunity to accomplish a different kind of perfection. It’s up to you, however, to know that when the time comes, you have to make use of it.
Tisha B’Av, you have to know, is a time to sit down on the ground and weep. Not to look at the clock and see how many hours it is until supper time – no. You have to weep on Tisha B’Av; mourning in its proper time is a shleimus, a perfection of character. And the more mourning, the more perfection. Like it says in Yeshaya (61:3): ר∆פ≈‡ ַ̇חַּ ̇ ר≈‡ּ¿פ ם∆הָל ̇≈ ָ̇ל ןֹויƒˆ י≈ל≈בֲ‡ַל – The more eifer, the more you put ashes on you, the more pe’er you’re going to get, the more perfection of character.
Loss of Shechinah
And so we should analyze, at least superficially, the elements that we can discern in the matter of the Churban Beis Hamikdash. When Shlomo built the Beis Hamikdash, the Shechinah came in and filled the entire heichal. רַמָ‡ זָ‡ הֹמֹלׁ¿ ̆ – When Shlomo saw that he said, ל∆פָרֲﬠָּב ןֹּכׁ¿ ̆ƒל רַמָ‡ ם≈ּׁ ַ̆ה – Hashem said He's going to dwell in a thick cloud, and everybody saw the Shechinah (Melochim I, 1:12). That’s what Hashem promised us: ׁ ָּ̆„¿ ̃ƒמ יƒלּוׂ ָ̆ﬠ¿ו – They shall make for Me a Mikdash, which means a holy place, an especial place for Me, םָכֹו ̇¿ּב יƒּ ̇¿נַכָׁ ̆¿ו – and I shall dwell in their midst. In a nutshell, that’s what the Beis Hamikdash meant: We felt that Hashem lives with us. That feeling, that awareness, was something that transformed the lives of the Am Yisroel.
Just a visit to Yerushalayim transformed a person; the Torah says that’s the reason for bringing maaser sheini to Yerushalayim. You know, maaser sheini means that you separate one tenth of your produce and you bring it to Yerushalayim to eat. And it takes some time before you consume all that food, a tenth of your produce! Sometimes you have to spend weeks in Yerushalayim before you can eat it up. And what’s it for? The Torah says it’s for the purpose of ם≈ּׁ ַ̆ה ̇∆‡ הָ‡¿רƒי¿ל „ַמ¿לּƒ ̇ ןַﬠַמ¿ל – so that you became more and more aware of Hashem’s Presence every minute you are there (Devarim 14:23).
All day long, you were in the shadow of Hashem’s Home. That was the greatness of having a Beis Hamikdash. The knowledge that the Shechina lives with us!
Loss of Strength
Now, the Binyan Shlomo was the pride of our nation. It was perfect in everything. The kohanim gedolim were anointed with the shemen hamishchah. They had the two luchos habris; the stone tablets were there inside. Everything graced the first Beis Hamikdash and nobody ever dreamed that the hand of a gentile could ever touch it: םƒ ָלָׁ ּ̆רו¿י י≈רֲﬠַׁ ּ̆¿ב ב≈יֹו‡¿ו רַˆ ‡ֹבָי יּƒכ ל≈ב≈ ̇ י≈בׁ¿ ֹ̆י לֹּכּינוƒמ¡‡∆ה ‡ֹל — nobody ever dreamed this could happen (Eicha 4:12). The House where Hashem lives be trespassed?!
ָיךׁ∆ ָּ̆„¿ ּ̃ƒמƒמ יםƒ ֹ̃ל¡‡ ‡ָרֹנו — You, Elokim, are Fearsome when You come from Your Sanctuary (Tehillim 68:12). Constantly you find such expressions in Tanach. From the Mikdash the power of Hashem came forth to defend His people. It was unthinkable that it could be destroyed.
But finally that dreaded day came when the nation saw the Beis Hamikdash set to the torch. The House of Hashem; the house where our Hashem lived with us, is burning! It was a great day of mourning never to be forgotten. And that’s why to this day when we mourn, it's mostly for the Churban haBayis.
Loss of Enlightenment
However, it wasn’t only the Beis Hamikdash, Hashem’s immediate Presence, that fell. The Mikdash was the Torah center from which the Toras Hashem flowed out to all the corners of Eretz Yisroel. The lishkas hagazis in the Beis Hamikdash was the center of the Torah nation and that went lost along with the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. The loss of the Sanhedrin in the lishkas hagazis is a tremendous, irreparable loss.
We have to mourn for the loss of nevuah too. Ahh, the prophets, the nevi’im! What a great gift that was; when the Shechina was shoreh b’Yisroel and the nevi’im spoke words of truth. The Word of Hashem enlightened the eyes of the people. When the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed, nevuah ceased and we lost that great opportunity. We don’t have the great teachers, the pathfinders, the guides, that we had in the days of old. That’s something to weep over.
Loss of Happiness
What about the loss of our national happiness? We have to picture how our forefathers went up to Yerushalayim three times a year in masses. Every town had a little army of men and their families who set out to Yerushalayim three times a year. They would march on the roads with the cattle and sheep that they intended to bring as offerings.
They put on their Yom Tov garments, and they took along musical instruments and they sang and played music on the road. And soon they heard from another road the same sounds of festivity and they were joined by a band from the next town as the roads merged. As they continued, the army swelled and became a huge multitude and soon the roads were clogged. You could barely move. But they were all singing and dancing on the road.
They were oblivious to the time. They didn't realize that the minutes were passing by. To them it seemed that time was standing still. They weren’t in Yerushalayim yet but they were already enjoying the Presence of the Shechinah. Like Dovid describes in Shir Hama'alos (122:2): ּינו≈ל¿‚ַרּיוָה ֹ̇ו„¿מֹע םƒ ָלָׁ ּ̆רו¿י ךƒיַרָﬠׁ¿ ּ̆ƒב – Suddenly we discovered that our feet were standing within your gates, Yerushalayim. And the memunah in charge of the group said, “Halt. We’re already here.” They were standing in the streets and Yerushalayim was mobbed. There were millions in the city. We know this from the secular historians. The city was jammed with Jews, and it was all in a festive mood.
Loss of Joy
Now that happiness of ancient Yerushalayim is a subject worth studying. Oh, there were so many happy occasions when the nation gathered there. ָיך∆ ֹ̃ל¡‡ ם≈ּׁ ַ̆ה י≈נ¿פƒלָּ ̇¿חַמָׂ ̆¿ו םָּׁ ָּ̆ ̇¿לַכָ‡¿ו – You will eat there and rejoice before Hashem (Devarim 27:7). They ate meat of korbanos which they roasted and they drank wine and they danced with simcha until the spirit of Hashem came upon them and many became prophets.
The nation was happy! What was the mark of the days of old? They were times of joy. יוָמָּיƒמ הָח¿מׂƒ ̆ הָ‡ָר ‡ֹל ,הָב≈‡ֹוּׁ ַ̆ה ̇יּ≈ב ַ̇ח¿מׂƒ ̆ הָ‡ָר ‡ֹּלׁ∆ ̆יƒמ (Sukkah 50a). No matter what joy the world attempts to accomplish in its festivities, it doesn't approach the simchah that our forefathers enjoyed when they gathered together with Hashem in Yerushalayim.
And so, when we look back on the happy times of the days of old, we mourn for that joy that we do not experience today. You should think about that while you’re sitting on the floor on Tisha B’Av. We look back with regret and we mourn the simcha that departed from our people. We mourn for that song of joy which now became silent.
Loss of Pride
Now included in that happiness we possessed, was our pride in Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Because the primary happiness of our nation is that we are the nation chosen by the King of the Universe. And therefore another element of our weeping is the honor of Hakadosh Baruch Hu, לָּלּחו¿ּמַהָך¿מƒׁ ̆ „ֹבו¿ּכ לַﬠ, how His great Name was profaned when the gentiles marched into the Sanctuary and destroyed it.
They ridiculed us. “Where is your G-d?” they laughed. They put a torch to the Mikdash and slew the Sages, and the Name of Hashem was profaned in the world. The pride of the Am Yisroel, our pride in Hashem, went lost to a very big extent.
After the Mikdash was destroyed, the false religions, the imitating religions, arose – Islam and Christianity – and they belittled our people. They mocked us and they said that we are living in darkness and error and that they have the truth; and they blamed us for persisting in our refusal to accept their new truths. And because we were in golus now, so we had to be silent. For generations, all over Europe, instead of living in the shadow of the Mikdash we lived in the shadow of the cathedral, and we were considered subhumans, outcasts of society.
So Many Losses
The gentiles made it their business that we should live in the very worst of social conditions. Pope after Pope issued decrees that the Jews should not be allowed to lift their heads. “Don't kill them,” the Pope said, “but don't let them lift up their heads.” It was considered a kindliness when they didn't extinguish our lives. And by the way; they didn’t always follow the Pope’s advice to leave us alive.
And in the Muslim world as well, they spat upon the Jew. In Yerushalayim just a generation ago there was an old rav who walked in the street. He was from a distinguished rabbinical family, the Bardaki family, and an Arab was passing with a little donkey carrying some merchandise. The Arab stopped the old rav and he put everything on the back of the old rav, even the little donkey. The Arab was riding on Rabbi Bardaki with all the packs from the donkey on him and he sat on the rabbi's shoulders. The rabbi had to keep quiet. He couldn't do anything against the Arab. And he took the Arab to his house and he humbly deposited him at his doorstep and he went home. He thanked Hashem that he remained alive. In Yerushalayin Ir Hakodesh!
And so when we weep on Tisha B’Av we think about these things—there is so much to think about—and we look back on our glorious history and see what we once possessed and what went lost afterwards. And we hope for the time when once again we’ll be zocheh to what went lost from us.
