Hashem genetically encoded us with a defense mechanism to handle grief. When someone (chas v’shalom) loses a loved one, the Torah prescribes a hierarchical time frame for mourning – shiva, shloshim, months of aveilut. A year or ten after the event, the loss is no longer festering, we are able to go about our lives almost as normal. The healing power of time is a merciful gift from G-d that enables us to go on living.
There are certain things we are not allowed to forget. We are in fact commanded to proactively not forget – like Amalek, it is a direct mitzvah in the Torah. Another example is the Beit HaMikdash. Although we do not find a direct mitzvah written in the Torah to remember the Beit HaMikdash, the Smag (R’ Moshe ben Yaakov from Coucy) says that it is part of the first commandment “I am the L-rd your G-d.â As we are commanded to acknowledge Hashem, we are commanded to acknowledge His promise that we will be redeemed, and to live in constant expectation of redemption.
The Gemara (Shabbat, 31a) says that when a person dies, they are called upon to answer a series of questions about their life. 1. Did you conduct your business dealings honestly? 2. Did you set aside time to study Torah? 3. Did you live in expectation of redemption?
Nobody is asked if they respected their parents, if they davened three times a day, put on tefillin, did chesed, kept Shabbat? Are these not important questions too?
Perhaps the answer is that these three questions are the foundation for everything else. Without them there is nothing, but if a person has these fundamental requirements, everything else will follow. It is fundamental to be honest, not just with other people, but with yourself. If you are honest, you can distinguish between what is real and what isn’t. It is fundamental to study Torah. Without Torah there is nothing, if you study Torah, everything else will follow, tefillin, Shabbat, etc.
The really interesting question is the third. What does it mean to live in expectation of redemption?
Chazal instituted mechanisms so that we would not be able to forget the redemption. They wanted our grief of the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash to remain a festering wound that would never heal and haunt us every single day, every minute of the day, in everything that we do – our prayers, our weddings, in our houses (leaving a portion unbuilt/unfinished), our dress, etc.
The million-dollar question, however, is “How well is that working?” Here is a short test.
If on the 8:00 p.m. news the excited announcer says “It is a global phenomenon. Step outside and gaze skyward. Worldwide, people are seeing blazing letters of fire in the sky, pronouncing the name of the Mashiach – in Spain the people are seeing it in Spanish, in Japan in Japanese, etc. Billions are standing on their balconies in awe of this wondrous spectacle!”
What would your reaction be? Would it be: “Dear come quick, you really need to see this!” or would it be “Nu, so what’s the big deal …”
Most people would have the first response. The first response really means – “They kept telling me that it would happen, but I didn’t truly believe it.” The second response is true expectation. It means “I live every second of my life believing this will happen, so why would it be surprising to me that it has!”
None of us has that level of expectation, we have lost it. Perhaps out of despair and the trauma of almost 2,000 years of Diaspora, waiting and waiting and it never happened. Many of us have lost it because we don’t see the true value of it. “What would having the Beit HaMikdash add to my life that I don’t have already?”
For many amongst us, the coming of Mashiach would in fact be a great inconvenience in our otherwise “perfect,” comfortable lives. We have our families, our homes, our communities, our shiurim, our internet, our cars, our jobs, our yearly vacations, business is pretty good – so what is Mashiach or rebuilding the Beit HaMikdash going to give me that I don’t already have? What? Instead of spending a relaxing chag with my family in the sukkah in our garden, I will have to shlep to Jerusalem? Who needs it? I am happy with my life the way it is!
99.9% of us, even if we are afraid to come right out and say it, probably feel like that. We do not truly understand what the Beit HaMikdash is or how exponentially improved our lives would be with it.
We mourn its loss on Tisha B’Av, but mourning is not enough. Mourning ends and then comes forgetting! Tish’a Be’Av ends and then life returns to normal and we get on with the “real” business of – the summer vacation.
So, how do we change that?
A good way to begin developing true expectation of redemption is our treatment of our shuls. How do we relate to our shul? Chazal tell us that the shul substitutes today for the Beit HaMikdash, it is called a Mikdash Me’at (a small Mikdash). How do we treat our shuls? With awe, as if we were entering the actual Beit HaMikdash? Or like a country club? Do we wash our hands before entering the shul? Do we chatter with those sitting next to us during the davening or reading of the Torah? Do we take our cellphones with us into shul on weekdays and not turn them off?
When Hashem sees how we treat our shuls, that serves as a yardstick of how much we crave redemption. If Hashem sees that we treat our shuls with a lack of respect and disdain, then it is very likely we will carry that over to the real Beit HaMikdash. So why rebuild it?
Tisha B’Av is a once-a-year occurrence. It is not enough. It does not count as an acceptable answer to the third question above. If, however, we treat the Mikdash Me’at, our shuls with respect and awe, every day of the year, that is the beginning of true expectation of Redemption.
Parshat HaShavua Trivia Question: What happened in the pace called Di Zahav? (Devarim 1:1)
Answer to Last Week’s Trivia Question: What was the last stop on Am Yisrael’s journeys through the Midbar? The plains of Moav, on the banks of the Jordan River.