Showing How Much We Care
By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah
In Parshas Devarim, Moshe Rabbeinu rebukes Klal Yisrael over the sin of the spies, who put fear into the hearts of the nation with their frightening report about Eretz Yisrael. The nation fell into despair and even considered returning to Egypt. As punishment, all those who feared entering the land were denied entry. Only their children would merit Eretz Yisrael.
In Taanis (29a), the Sages make an interesting connection. Hashem labels the nation’s crying after hearing the report of the spies, “crying over nothing,” and informs them that on that same day (Tisha Ba’av), the destructions of the two Batei Mikdash will take place. Instead of crying over nothing, the nation would have a reason to cry.
What is the connection between the nation’s “crying over nothing” at the Sin of the Spies and their crying for a good reason over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash?
Rav Dessler explains that the underlying sin of the spies themselves, and of the nation upon hearing the spies’ report, was a lack of emunah (Devarim 1:32). Of course, they did possess emunah. These were people who had just lived through the Exodus from Egypt, the Splitting of the Red Sea and Matan Torah. Only, had their emunah been strong enough in their hearts, they would not have cried in fear of entering the Land. On an intellectual level, they had emunah, but this knowledge had not penetrated deep enough into their hearts and feelings. This was their sin. As a tikun for the sin of lack of feeling of Hashem in one’s heart, we cry over the loss of the Beis Hamikdash, explains Rav Dessler.
When a person cries over the loss of the Beis Hamikdash, what is he really crying for? He is crying because he wants more of a connection to Hashem. The Beis Hamikdash was where one could feel this connection. Ten miracles took place there regularly (Avos 5:7), and the Nefesh Hachaim (2:17) states that this was a connection without any intermediaries. There was a palpable sense of the Shechina.
Crying over the loss of the Beis Hamikdash shows how much a Jew cares about this loss. When a cry emanates from his heart over this, it shows how much he wants to connect to Hashem.
This is the Sages’ message: In the Midbar, the nation cried because Hashem was not in their hearts. Our crying today is to show how much Hashem is in our hearts. This is the tikun.
Rav Dessler continues that this form of crying literally builds the Beis Hamikdash. The destruction of both the first and second Batei Hamikdash was because Hashem was not in the Jews’ hearts at that time. Hashem said “build for me a Mishkan and I will dwell within them,” (Shmos 25:8) meaning within the heart of each and every Jew (Alshich, ibid.). This is the inner reality of the Mishkan. If this reality was no longer present, there was no basis for the Beis Hamikdash to exist. When a Jew reaches the level where he is actually crying over the loss of the Beis Hamikdash, this feeling is itself the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash. Indeed, if every Jew would cry over the Beis Hamikdash, it would be rebuilt entirely. This is the Sages’ intent in: “Whoever mourns the destruction of Jerusalem merits to see its rebuilding” (Taanis 30b). Right now, a Jew who cries over the Beis Hamikdash, is rebuilding the inner reality that will ultimately bring the Beis Hamikdash back.
Rav Shach would urge his talmidim to instill emunah in their hearts. “Emunah only comes if you work on it,” he would say. How does one do this?
“See Hashem’s hand in the creation!” he would say. “Look at the workings of nature, the regular pattern of day and night, and all the beautiful creations, the fertile soil, flowers, trees, sea, blue sky, food, the workings of the human body, each organ and its miraculous functioning.”
Rav Shach also advised people to study the verses of Maaseh Bereishis, instilling in themselves the knowledge that Hashem created the world, and that this tradition was handed down uninterrupted from Adam Harishon until our times.
“Study as well the Exodus and the miracles Hashem did for the Jews at that time. The more you think about this and speak about it, the more the ideas will penetrate into your heart,” Rav Shach would say. “The more you get this emunah into your heart, the better you’ll be able to deal with the nisyonos of life.”
R’ Naftali Goldman was a man whose emunah enabled him to survive the torture of Bergen Belson. For all those around him, he was a source of spiritual strength. “If Hashem doesn’t want, they can’t harm me,” he would say, and he put this into practice.
When situations arose and someone had to take the blame, R’ Goldman volunteered, declaring: “It’s my fault” and suffering vicious beatings at the hands of the Nazis. On
numerous occasions he gave his ration of food to other people, and although his weight dropped from 120 kilos to 45 kilos, he survived the war.
“If you have emunah in Hashem and you feel it, they can’t do a thing to you,” he would tell those around him.
May we be zoche to feel Hashem in our hearts!