by Rabbi E. Tauger

Av

A Month of Conflicting Messages

The Mishnah teaches us: "When the month of Av arrives, we reduce our joy." For the beginning of the month is associated with the commemoration of the destruction of the Temple on Tishah B'Av, an event so heartrending that although almost 2000 years have passed, each time the month of Av arrives, we cannot proceed in our usual manner. Instead, we must "reduce our joy."
On the other hand, that very same chapter of the Mishnah concludes: "There were never days of celebration for the Jewish people as great as the fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur." Now the fifteenth of a Jewish month represents the fullness of the moon, the complete and perfect expression of the spiritual influence of that particular month. How is possible for a month that involves the very depths of sadness to be associated with the ultimate heights of joy?

No Status Quo

The resolution to the above lies in an understanding of the unique nature of the Jewish people. To explain using an analogy employed by the Sages: The gentile nations are likened to the sun, while the Jews are compared to the moon. What is the difference between the sun and the moon? The sun's pattern is constant; every day, it rises and sets in a continuous, unchanging manner. Yes, there are variations from day to day: the angle at which the setting sun intersects the horizon changes slightly, it rises and sets at different times, and the like. These, however, are minor points. By and large, the pattern is the same day in and day out. The moon, by contrast, fluctuates. No one day is the same as the previous. It waxes and wanes from day to day.
Similarly, within the natural order, there is an ongoing pattern of day-to-day stability. Certain things don't change. Or if they do, the deviations are minor. Within the Jewish people, by contrast, there are extremes. On the contrary, if there is a constant, it is only that we are certain that there will be change. Jews do not stand still, they fluctuate and indeed, do so radically.

A G-dly Nation

Why are the Jews so extreme? Because a Jew's soul is an actual part of G-d and G-d is not a defined entity, limited to any specific pattern. Every created being is brought into existence with a specific definition. It is what it is and that is all that it will be. It may take some time until its potential will blossom into manifestation, but ultimately, the potentials will be realized. Accordingly, there is nothing surprising about the realization of such potentials. That's who the person is. Why shouldn't he realize the potentials he has?
Something that is G-dly, by contrast, can't be put in a box. Its qualities aren't clear-cut and defined, because G-d is unlimited, without any boundaries or definitions whatsoever. G-d can manifest Himself or He can choose to remain in a state of hiddenness where His presence cannot be detected.
Similar concepts apply with regard to a Jewish soul. A Jew can reveal his true G-dly potential and in such an instance, there are no bounds to the heights that he can reach. On the other hand, there is nothing forcing him to reveal that potential and it can remain utterly dormant for a time. When that happens, there are no bounds to the depths to which he can fall.

What Logic Cannot Comprehend

Our Sages speak of a descent for the purpose of an ascent. We see a parallel in our day-to-day experience: A person preparing to leap forward takes a few steps back so that he will be able to get a running start. Similarly, there are times when the path for Israel's spiritual growth and development requires a descent first.
On one hand, such a pattern of descent and ascent is understandable. We can appreciate that there are no straight lines up. At times, we need to step back and gather strength for a further advance. But the descents the Jewish people undergo do not fit these models; we are not speaking about a gentle decline. The descents are awesome and unpredictable.
It's like fire; because it is powerful, it can be used for a variety of positive purposes. If, however, left unharnessed, it can be terribly destructive. Similarly, the spiritual potential a Jew possesses is overwhelming, for, as above, his soul is an actual part of G-d. For this reason when a Jew falls, he descends radically, sinking to a level beyond all expectations.
On the other hand, when we see a Jew in such a state of descent, we must realize that it is only temporary. Why has he fallen so low? Because of the unique G-dly potential invested in him. That unique potential will ultimately seek expression and surface.
The depths to which a Jew can fall demonstrate that our people are not ordinary, that their lives do not conform to nature's patterns. That itself indicates that the descent will lead to an ascent to the highest peaks. For a Jew's Divine potential will not lie dormant forever and when it surfaces, it will be expressed in all its power, without any limitations, for it cannot be confined by the strictures of nature.

From Darkness to Light

On this basis, we can understand the extremes of the month of Av. Tishah B'Av represents the nadir of a Jew's spiritual potential. To refer to the words of the Midrash: We descended "from a high peak until a low pit." Or to refer to the words of the prophet: "Zion will be plowed like a field," i.e., after the destruction, nothing remained standing. All of our people's spiritual achievements were leveled. On the other hand, that expression also has a positive connotation. For a field grows crops. In Zion's discomfiture lies the seeds for her ultimate rise to glory. The descent into the depths of exile will ultimately lead to the heights of Redemption.
Each year, a foretaste of this ascent is given expression through the celebrations of the fifteenth of Av. Every month, the full moon points to the blossoming to fullness of a Jew's spiritual potential. But in the month of Av, after the tremendous descent experienced, the ascent is greater.
Just as this pattern is expressed in the annual cycle, so too, it can be seen in the series of ebbs and flows experienced by the Jewish people throughout history as a whole. The exile and the dispersion of our people are not ends in their own right. For their purpose is not descent. Instead, they are phases leading to a positive goal, the coming of Mashiach and the advent of the era of the Redemption. If there was another way to reach those goals without undergoing the tribulations of exile, G-d would not have structured the history of our people in that manner. But like the athlete who steps back before jumping, exile is the path our people must undergo before reaching the Redemption.
Moreover, in the present age, it is far easier to understand these concepts, for the Redemption is no longer a dream of the far off future, but a reality that will very soon become fully manifest.

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Telling Tales

In keeping with the above concepts that emphasize how extreme shifts of fortune are natural for the Jewish people, we would like to share the following story.

He was a well-to-do merchant who attended the Rabbi's study sessions religiously. Once, however, he walked out of the class in disbelief. The Rabbi had said that everything is dependent on Divine providence and a person can lose and regain his entire fortune in one moment.
He was not willing to accept that idea. After all, it had taken him years of hard work to amass his fortune. How then could it be lost in one moment? And were that, heaven forbid, to happen, how could he regain it immediately?
The Rabbi must have erred. That entire evening, he was troubled by the matter. How could the Rabbi have made such a mistake?
When he arose the next morning, he went to shul to pray. After the services, he approached the Rabbi. "Perhaps, you were speaking in exaggeration. You really didn't mean that a person can lose his entire fortune in one moment, did you?"
Without realizing the inner turmoil brewing in the merchant's heart, the Rabbi assured him that this in fact was his intent.
Hearing that, the merchant turned away angrily. And step by step, the feelings in his heart began to grow. He was no longer upset at the Rabbi alone. Now he couldn't understand the entire religion. After all, the Rabbi wasn't a private individual. He was a spokesman for the entire faith. Perhaps just like the Rabbi, the faith as a whole was not realistic. He saw the tower of the local church in the distance. "Theirs is a realistic faith," he thought to himself and there on the spot, he decided to convert.
When he approached the local priest with his request, the priest was puzzled. Why was he deciding to convert? The merchant had not tried to contact the church beforehand. Would he change his mind against conversion as quickly as he had decided to convert?
An idea came to the priest's mind. "I'll be happy to arrange your conversion," he told the merchant, "but I need to know that you are serious about it. After all, I want to invite the bishop. Sign this document transferring all your property to the church in the event you don't go through with the conversion. If you convert, you don't lose anything. This is only to show that you are sincere."
The merchant signed the paper and the priest went out to arrange the conversion. As soon as the priest stepped out the door, the merchant was overcome by pangs of regret.
What had he done? For a moment of anger, he had forsaken the faith of his ancestors! He wouldn't do it. Even if it meant forfeiting his entire fortune, he would remain true to his religion. He looked out the window. It was only a storey and a half high. He would not be injured if he jumped out. He did not think any longer. He opened the window and was on his way.
"The Rabbi was right," he thought as he ran. "You can lose your entire fortune in one moment."
He turned back to look at the church. There he saw floating out the window was a piece of paper. "Maybe," he thought to himself and he ran to retrieve it. Yes, it was the promissory note he had signed. "The Rabbi was right about this also," he thought. "You can also regain your fortune in one moment."

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Torah readings of the month

Parshas Devarim

This Torah reading relates how Moses rebuked the Jewish people before his passing. As a leader, Moses felt a responsibility for his people, he was not going to leave them without doing his utmost to bring them to a state of perfection. He loved them dearly and out of his love for them, rebuked them.
This gives us fundamental guidance regarding how rebuke should be given. Even when there is genuine reason to rebuke a person, the rebuke must be given with love and care. Firstly, because it will evoke a more positive response. No one likes be talked down to. But more fundamentally, because it relates to the person as he or she really is. Every person's core is inherently good and when someone endeavors to call that good into expression, it will be awakened.

Parshas VaEschanan

This Shabbos is given a special name, Shabbos Nachamu, the Shabbos of comfort. The name is taken from the Haftorah of this week which begins with Isaiah's prophecy: "Take comfort, take comfort, My people." After commemorating the tragedy of the Temple's destruction on Tishah BeAv, our Sages instituted a series of seven prophetic readings that change our focus.
These readings promise that Israel will be comforted with the coming of the Redemption. Exile and destruction are just phases, the beginning of a process, not its end. In that vein, our Sages tell us that Mashiach was born on Tishah BeAv. Whatever the simple meaning of that statement, its intent is that every year, Tishah BeAv generates a renewed impetus for Redemption. Concealed beneath the destruction and exile is G-d's desire to bring Mashiach, and to elevate both Israel and the world to a state of ultimate fulfillment.

Parshas Ekev

Our Rabbis teach that the opening phrase of our Torah reading Vihaya eikev tishmayon - "It shall come to pass when you heed...." alludes to our present era, ikvasa demeshicha, the time when Mashiach's approaching footsteps can be heard. When we observe the Torah and its mitzvos in ikvasa demeshicha, the commentaries explain, G-d will keep the promises mentioned in the Torah and bring the Redemption.
Implied is that there is something unique about our observance that will precipitate the Redemption. The unique quality of our generation is hinted at by the word eikev which also means "heel" in Hebrew. When you want to enter an extremely cold swimming pool, which is the easiest limb to put in first? The feet.
Although the feet lack the sensitivity of the more refined limbs of the body, they respond more readily to our will. Similarly, although our generation may lack some of the spiritual refinement of the previous generations, like the heel, we are able to show a deeper commitment to fulfilling G-d's will.

Parshas Reeh

This week's Torah reading begins: "Today I am setting before you a blessing and a curse: The blessing if you heed the commandments of G-d… and the curse if you do not heed the commandments."
Man is given free choice. G-d does not force him to accept the commandments, nor will He stand in man's way if he choose not to follow them. The choice is ours.
Why did G-d make it that way? He is after all the Creator of all existence, and He could have made man any way He wanted. Why did He give man a potential to disobey and ignore Him?
Because without such a challenge, of what value would man's Divine service be? If man was like a robot, naturally and spontaneously doing G-d's will, could he claim any credit for those efforts? And would they bring any satisfaction to G-d? What satisfaction is there in the inevitable?
It is precisely when man has an alternative, when he lives in a world where G-dliness is not open and apparent, and he has personal desires which conflict with the Torah's decrees that his choice to serve G-d is truly virtuous. For man to serve G-d under such conditions requires him to reach to the core of his being, and summon up powerful spiritual energies. Such service is an achievement, one which brings satisfaction to both man and G-d.

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