There is an oft-quoted principle that we try to live by, which is: mitzvah gedolah le’hiyot besimcha tamid – it is a mitzvah to be joyous always. And yet, during the three-week period we find ourselves in - between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av - we commanded to be in a state of mourning and to increase the magnitude of our mourning at the start of Chodesh Av (which falls out this coming Monday). How can we be commanded to be happy and mournful in the very same moment in time? Hopefully a better understanding of Parshat Maasai - which we read each year on the Shabbat that precedes Rosh Chodesh Av - will provide insight into this fundamental question. The parsha begins:
These are the journeys of Bnei Yisroel who went out of Egypt...Moshe recorded their departures for their journeys (motza'ei'hem lemas'ei'hem)...these were the journeys for their departures (mas'ei'hem lemotza'ei'hem.
Among the commentaries that try to explain the meaning behind the double, but reversed language in the above verse, the Netziv suggests that the first time we see the phrase, the Torah is making reference to the journeys immediately following the exodus from Egypt; during these journeys, or encampments, the Jews were on a straight path (a “direct flight”) to Israel. The second phrase refers to the journeys that came after the sin of the spies and the subsequent decree that the Jews would wander the desert for 40 years before entry into the land; these encampments did not take them on a direct path, but instead each journey seemed to be unnecessary pit-stop that only delayed their arrival at their destination.
Still, how does this explain why the language is reversed? We can explain as follows: the first departures were for the sake of journeying forward—they left one place in order to get to the next. After the sin, however, when the Jews were taken from place to place in no clear or logical sequence, each journey was for the sake of departure. In other words, the people had to encamp in each of these places in order that they overcome a challenge, develop themselves, and thereby make themselves ready to depart to the next level. Though they could not feel it at the time, each of these journeys – even when they felt pointless and even backwards - brought them one step closer to entering the land of Israel.
There are times in our lives that we "depart" from a stage in our life journey in order to enter the next phase – and it is clear to us that we are embarking on the next “logical” phase of our lives. It is at these junctures that we might feel apprehensive as we enter an unknown phase – but we feel excited and proud of where we have come and where we are going.
There are, however, other times that we feel unsure of the direction we are in and feel confused as to why we have to go through the stage or the struggle we are in. But, perhaps one lesson we learn from our parsha is that at those times we must realize that we are on the path – and we must still confident that we are taking steps in the right direction. It is important at those times to realize that sometimes we have to go through these moments in order to overcome them – to grow from them and to then be ready to get to our next phase.
The Sfat Emet notes that although all of the encampments between the time the Jews left Egypt and the moment they entered the land of Israel was part of one, albeit long, journey, the word masaeihem (their travels) is written in plural. This reminds us that the transition from slaves in a foreign land to Jews of the Promised Land could not happen in one giant step, but had to be a gradual process. And so it is with all life journeys – we can take great strides forward but we cannot accomplish anything worth accomplishing in one giant step, and rarely can we do so without overcoming a few obstacles along the way.
From this perspective we can answer the question many commentaries ask of why is it necessary at all to look back on the many stops and remember the obstacles the Jews faced along this long path? And, why now?
Now that the Jews were entering the land, dividing up the land and readying themselves to settle in the land – it is crucial to look back at the long and winding road that got them to their final destination. All too often we feel discouraged as we go along the path of life – striving for a goal but feeling so far away. It is in those moments we must think about the challenging paths we have taken in the past and remember the satisfaction and pride that we felt when we finally succeeded.
In fact, Rabbi Akiva Tatz explains that the joy of life is not merely in the achievement itself, but in looking back at the process and feeling pride and joy in what we have been able to achieve. He explains that with this approach towards life, we can feel a sense of happiness even in the midst of the journey, or the struggle, itself – with the understanding that we are on a journey and we are getting closer to our destination.
With this insight we can answer our original question of how we can feel mournful at the same time as we are be’simcha (joyous) during this time of the year? We can feel a sense of joy in understanding that this time of mourning and the exile from our land is a temporary one – like the Jews of the desert who arrived in their final destination even though it seemed at times that they were get further and further away – we can feel a sense of joy in knowing that as far away as it may seem, each day and each struggle brings us closer to the redemption – both national and personal - that we yearn for.
Simcha (“happiness”) is not defined by the smile on our face, but by the internal state of being that is felt when our soul feels that it is doing what is right, when we feel that we are moving along the path we want to be on. On another level then, we can understand how to feel an internal joy at the same time as we feel a communal sadness – by realizing that by mourning we are doing what we are meant to be doing – and by allowing us to feel the sadness of the destruction of the Temples that were the center of our spiritual existence – we are bringing ourselves closer to meriting the rebuilding of those structures and rebuilding our lives around them.
The month of Av is often referred to as Menachem Av (The Consoling Month of Av) –perhaps the comfort of the consolation of this month is the understanding and acceptance that the journey is necessary to reach the destination, the struggle is part of the process, and the exile is a phase that will end in redemption. May we be able to feel the internal joy of the journey – no matter where we find ourselves on our personal paths. And though the destination may seem very distanced from us, hopefully we can trust that it will come -and our faith can give us the strength to hope and pray that we merit the geula bimheira uveyamenu. Shabbat Shalom, Taly
