The Focus of Destruction

It can be very easy and undemanding to mourn for the Bais HaMikdosh. The Destruction was an event that occurred two-thousand years ago, for which it is difficult to muster up much of a sense of responsibility, and there seems to be precious little that we can really do to bring about its rebuilding.
Perhaps we should focus instead on another Mikdosh. Based on the Pasuk of ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם, the Seforim HaKedoshim explain that each person is a Holy Temple, or, at least, has the potential to be one. We can look around and see that not every person is exemplifying the life of a living Temple. Best would be if we looked in the mirror and saw how we are not living up to that standard.
What prevents people from becoming personal Holy Sanctuaries. Undoubtedly there are many reasons. But let's focus on what our Sages have taught us: The Temple was destroyed because of improper interpersonal relationships. Simply put, people treating each other nastily and without compassion, hence the Temple was destroyed. The same is true with regards to the personal individual Temples. The lives of many people have been negatively affected by how they have been treated by others. The list of interpersonal offenses is so long and, unfortunately, so well documented, that you can pick from a long list of ways which, collectively, have caused harm to others.
How often have we heard that this harm - bullying, sexual abuse, among others - has caused long-term harm to others' ability to function in society and be productive human beings. Or, in other words, it limits their ability
to be Sanctuaries for the presence of the Schechina and to embody the purpose for which the world was created.
I would suggest on this Tish B'Av that we should focus on rebuilding the personal sanctuaries. Look in the mirror first and think of what you need to do in your own life to make yourself a Sanctuary, and then look at those around you, and how you are (or aren't) interacting with them, and what it would take to help rebuild their Sanctuaries.

Judea was Exiled מעוני

As we have now entered the Three Weeks, the period leading up to Tisha B'Av, commemorating the Destruction of the Jewish Temples, I have been studying the Book of Eicha, and wanted to share some things I saw, and some ideas I had.

In the third Pasuk of Eicha (which is read on Tisha B'Av) it says גלתה יהודה מעוני, the inhabitants of Judea were exiled מעוני. What is the meaning of this word?

The Targum understands it to mean "from affliction," and explains that the populace mistreated the downtrodden, rather than seeking to assist them. Rav Shmuel D'Ozida explains that the root word is עני, poverty, and that they were exiled for not taking proper care of the poor. These are distressingly similar explanations. According to both, the cause of exile was a lack of compassion for those less fortunate.

Interestingly, this word עוני is also found in the context of Matzo eaten on Pesach which the Torah calls לחם עוני, the bread of עוני. There too we find those who understand it to mean the Bread of Affliction, referring to the food that the slaves ate in Egypt, and others render it as poverty, referring to the fact that Matzo is a food commonly eaten by poor people who cannot afford anything more than flour and water out of which to create their food.

There is yet another explanation of עוני in the context of Matzo, לחם שעונין עליו דברים הרב, bread of which many words are spoken. In that context it refers to the contents of the Hagaddah. Perhaps in the case of exile, where people neglected or mistreated the less fortunate, we can also understand it to mean many words being spoken, meaning that people are full of explanations, dare I say excuses, for their neglect or ignoring of those less fortunate. Or, perhaps, it is referring to people who talk a lot about the plight of the less fortunate, but do nothing to change the situation.

In the Haftorah of Yom Kippur we are reminded that the purpose of a fast, is not to merely refrain from eating and to bang our hearts in supplication. We are meant primarily to spend our time on fast days, looking out for the poor and unfortunate. I would suggest that as we enter this period of Three Weeks that we all seek out such opportunities to counter the mistakes made by those who were originally exiled, so that our actions will bring about the return and rebuilding.

A Rabbi's Letter

The following was written by a local rabbi in response to the Backer tragedy. My comments on it will follow.
This Tisha B’Av our community mourned twice. One was our national mourning over the destruction of the Batei Mishkanos and all they represent to us. Mourning over the great hester panim and Shchinta b’gelusah and over our lack of closeness to the RB”SO. Although each person is an individual and mourns in his or her unique way the basic concepts are the same.
We mourned a second time for a young treasure that we had here in Baltimore that was taken away from us due to an accident. A treasure, because all of our children are treasures, or potential treasures. Rarely have so many people participated in a levaya here, and rarely have we seen such an outpouring of grief.
Many young people grieved for the loss of their dear friend who was plucked away from them. There were many friends who were there who were friends of the families who are mourning. I saw however many hundreds of people who were there who had no personal interaction with the niftar or his family. Why were they there? It is true, we acted as a community should when one of our own suffers such a terrible tragedy. However, I think that something different was happening. What we saw as an outpouring of grief due to what is happening in our community. Young boys and girls, disenchanted, who are unhappy with life, unhappy with their families, unhappy with their leaders, unhappy with their schools and unhappy with themselves. The levaya made a very deep impression on me,seeing so many of them.
What are we doing wrong? What can we do that will make a difference? Due to my position as a Rav of a Kehilla I fall into the category of “leaders”. I urge you to please come forward and let me know how you think I could do things differently. I welcome constructive criticism and look forward to it. I welcome your ideas about any other aspects of this problem.
A fire is burning in our community (as it is all over) and we must do something about it.
A Gutten Shabbos,

All the lonely people, where do they all belong

Saturday night at our Tisha B'av Bonfire I spoke about loneliness. The Book of Eicha (Lamentations) begins with the words איכה ישבה בדד העיר רבתי עם היתה "How she sits alone, the city that [previously] had many people was..." This can perhaps be understood in a slightly more creative manner, that the prophet Yirmiyahu is lamenting about how can there be people who sit alone in a city that has many people.
Where is the love and concern for those who are lonely?
The prophet Yishaya (Isiah) berates the Nation for conducting fasts during which they do a wonderful job of fasting and doing acts of repentance, but they do nothing at all to show genuine care and love for those who are alone.
How are we spending our Tisha B'Av?
We are taught that the Bais haMikdash (Temple) was destroyed because of Sinas Chinam (unwarranted hatred). The only antidote for that must be the opposite, unwarranted love.
The most appropriate way for people to spend their Tisha B'Av would be by seeking out those who need love and offering it to them. By engaging in truly selfless acts.
Over the past decade or so Tisha B'Av in the Orthodox Jewish Community has become movie day. Many organizations produce and show vidoes for the Tisha B'Av entertainment industry. I will certainly concede that watching inspiring videos on Tisha B'Av, geared to keeping viewers minds on the theme of the day, os better than spending ones Tisha B'Av watching pre-season NFL games.
But inspiration only goes so far. Where is the le'masseh, the putting all that inspiration into action?
My wife and I had planned to spend a few hours Tisha B'Av afternoon bringing our family to a nursing home to ease the lonleliness of some of the patients there and to share some love. Our plans were dashed when we heard of the funeral of 16-year old Chananya Backer. I joined what was certainly more than 1,000 people at his funeral.
A common theme heard from the speakers was about how he and so many other teenagers feel misunderstood and alone. They spoke of the need to reach out to these kids and let them know how despite their struggles we love them and care.
What are we doing about it?