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Before We Sit on the Floor
In just a few hours, we'll sit on the floor.
We'll dim the lights, remove our leather shoes, and begin reading Eichah once again.
And we wonder -
How do we mourn for something we've never known?
How do we cry for a Beis HaMikdash we never saw?
This week, while preparing for Tisha B'Av, one word kept echoing in my mind.
Chazon - Vision.
We often think of Chazon as referring to Yeshayahu's vision of destruction. But throughout our tefillos, we ask for another kind of vision:
ותחזינה עינינו בשובך לציון ברחמים
"May our eyes behold Your return to Zion in mercy."
The Beis HaMikdash was the place where heaven and earth met. It was where ordinary life became infused with holiness. Physical acts became spiritual acts. The everyday became sacred.
Without the Beis HaMikdash, it's easy to believe that holiness exists only in rare moments, in spiritual experiences.
But our task in galus is to uncover the holiness hidden inside ordinary life. Every home has the potential to become a small Mikdash. Every act of kindness brings more Shechinah into the world.
Every moment that we choose patience over anger, gratitude over resentment, generosity over selfishness, we reveal a little more of the Presence that has never truly left us.
Tonight we allow ourselves to feel what's missing, to notice the distance. We allow ourselves to long. Longing is what keeps us moving toward home.
And so we focus on our vision. We're not only meant to believe that Mashiach will come, we're meant to imagine seeing it. To vision our dream come true.
Because every time we picture a world filled with more kindness, more holiness, more unity, and more awareness of Hashem, we are already becoming people capable of living in that world.
May this Tisha B'Av awaken within us not only grief for what has been lost, but a clearer vision of what can still be.
And may we merit to see it with our own eyes.
Warmly,
Yocheved
Let's Write...
Close your eyes for a moment. Imagine that the Beis HaMikdash has just been rebuilt. You are walking toward Yerushalayim. You see the crowds gathering from every corner of the Jewish world. You hear voices singing. You feel the anticipation in the air.
Now begin writing in the present tense, as though you are there.
What do you see?
What do you hear?
What do you smell?
What emotions rise within you?
What changes—not only around you, but inside you?
Write as if you are experiencing it now.
When you've finished, read what you've written slowly.
Notice which details surprised you. Notice what teaches you something. Notice which hopes you have expressed in this writing. Begin the reflection with, "As I read over my writing, I..."
May the vision we write today become the reality we live tomorrow!
P.S. You can check out some of my timely articles recently published:
https://aish.com/the-one-day-judaism-asks-you-to-cry/
https://thedailytea.org/article/how-to-connect-with-your-father-this-rosh-chodesh
chiburmagazine.com