D’var Torah by Rabbi Kasriel Gewirtzman
There is a wonderful thought I heard from my friend Rabbi Yaakov Klein, the founder of
The Lost Princess initiative. The thought is especially relevant to those of us who are
not privileged to live in the land of Israel. EACH AND EVERY year, we read Parshas
Va’eschanan on Shabbos Nachamu, the Shabbos following Tisha B’Av. Shabbos
Nachamu is saturated with the healing consolation of Hashem’s unshakable love for
our holy nation; the brilliant ray of light that fills the darkness of the void to repair all
brokenness with the vision of a brighter future.
The question is what is the connection between Shabbos Nachamu and Parshas
Va’eschanan? Further, doesn’t Moshe Rabbeinu’s failure to obtain permission to enter
the Holy Land seem to stand in sharp contrast to the yearning of a broken nation for
the comforting promise that we will, indeed, return to our Land?
Reb Tzadok HaKohen M’Lublin answers with the following incredible idea. The
tzaddikim teach that when Chazal (our Sages) say, “Kol hamesabeil al Yerushalayim
zocheh v’roeh b’simchasa” – Whoever mourns over Yerushalayim merits to see her
rejoicing – they don’t simply mean that such a person will merit to witness the
rebuilding of our eternal capital one day in the future. Rather, “merits to see her
rejoicing” means that carried on the wings of awesome yearning and imagination, one
can already begin to taste the rebuilding of Yerushalayim during the mourning itself.
The expansive gap created by the absence of the Beis HaMikdash and our distance
from a rectified world allows for an intensified sense of yearning. It creates an idealized
perception that enables us to paradoxically experience our connection with the Beis
HaMikdash even more powerfully than if we were to actually have it. Faced with the
utter emptiness of a life lived in a world without a Beis HaMikdash allows for us to
appreciate just what it is that we so desperately desire, enabling us to taste the
rebuilding and begin to experience the joy of what it will be like when Hashem’s
dwelling place on earth is finally rebuilt.
In light of this counterintuitive idea, Reb Tzadok teaches that while Moshe Rabbeinu
may never have merited to physically walk upon the hallowed soil of Eretz Yisrael, in a
certain way he experienced the Holy Land more profoundly than the rest of the nation.
Moshe Rabbeinu’s yearning for the Land, expressed in his 515 impassioned prayers to
be allowed to enter the Land, enabled him to taste the sweetness of Eretz Yisrael far
more sharply than those who actually entered its borders. Paradoxically, it was his
inability to achieve his heart’s desire that allowed Moshe to tap into the soul of the
Land’s holiness in the most intense way possible.
This, explains Reb Tzadok, is why we read Parshas Va’eschanan right after Tisha B’Av on
Shabbos Nachamu. Just like Moshe Rabbeinu, who never entered the Holy Land, had
access to the Land in an unparalleled way by virtue of his great longing, so does the
exiled Jewish nation maintain a bond with and appreciation for the Beis HaMikdash
that – in a certain way – transcends the experience of even those Jews that lived in the
time of its glory. This is the consolation of Parshas Va’eschanan. This is the consolation
of Shabbos Nachamu. And remember the longing makes it sweet! May this be a
Shabbos of true consolation!
Shabbat Shalom,
JET Ottawa
