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Rising from the ashes

There’s an old Yiddish saying that reflects a foundational kabbalistic axiom: “After a fire comes wealth.”
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July 24, 2015

There’s an old Yiddish saying that reflects a foundational kabbalistic axiom: “After a fire comes wealth.”

I struggled with the literal interpretation as a child. As an adult, it became clear from the painful fact of being in galut (exile) that wealth often springs forth after a certain amount of destruction and struggle. And that wealth comes not simply in material possessions but in a deep, satisfying relationship with God, purpose and meaning, a wholesome family, glowing health.

Tisha b’Av (the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av) is an annual day of fasting in Jewish life that commemorates the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem and the subsequent exile of the Jews from the land of Israel in 587 B.C.E. and 70 C.E.

It might be difficult for us to visualize a magnificent edifice licked by giant flames, burning steadily to the ground, twice! And perhaps even harder to imagine the horror of a people desperately watching the ruthless destruction and the grief during the subsequent disunity (and expulsions) without the Temple’s physical and spiritual anchor.

We’ve never experienced and can’t relate to the miracles, the unique spirituality, that was present in Temple times to truly understand what was lost. So what is the purpose of this commemoration?

That’s where the inner dimension of the story comes in. Every holiday in the Jewish calendar has layers of spiritual, mystical and practical meaning and relevance to life throughout history and today.

Throughout history: Every time the Jews were sought out to be slain and annihilated, their belongings and edifices violated, burned and destroyed, they rose from the embers of destruction with a stronger depth and richness than before. True, the impact of the killings and destruction was strong, but the Jews’ devotion to Torah and mitzvot was stronger. (Think Conversos in the 1400s who have Jewish descendants alive today; think about the Jewish resurgence after World War II). 

Unlike a homeland or language or consistent culture, Torah has been our only constant, and it was our ancestors’ recommitment to their Judaism that enabled them to rise. Again and again.

In day-to-day life: Just as there was destruction and a subsequent rebuilding (literally and figuratively), we, too, have times of disrepair in our lives, and then times of resilience, when things might be even better than they were before.

Ever noticed that the hills and valleys of Southern California seem especially lush a few months after a fire? That’s because ashes actually contain potent nutrients that embed in the earth and cause it to flourish.

As with many parts of nature, this scientific truth mirrors our spiritual lives: A broken body, a broken spirit, painful memories seared into our minds — they all can become the fertile soil for an unprecedented growth. We might renew our health with even more vigor, we might gain a certain wisdom against the backdrop of our previous experiences, we might have a connection to God that we might not have had before turning to Him in our sorrow.

In the micro and macro sense, how can we practically bring about this reparation and healing and strength to ourselves and to our world? And more personally, what can we do to keep our nation intact as we continue to suffer aftershocks from the Holocaust and brutal acts of terror today?

Here are my meditations for this Tisha b’Av, based on the writings of my teacher and mentor, the Lubavitcher Rebbe:

1) It begins by acknowledging our reality and feeling the grief. We can’t begin to rebuild unless we acknowledge that something is broken. This means feeling the pain of the struggles in our lives and feeling the void of a Temple that has but one remaining wall. And while we can’t truly “miss” the unique spirituality of the Temple if we never experienced it, we can feel saddened that we just don’t have such revealed Godliness guiding us today; we are sad that we don’t know what to be sad about.

2) We ask God to help us rebuild and do our part to make it happen — taking practical steps to better our lives and repair our world with love and kindness, one mitzvah at a time, creating a dwelling space for true spirituality to be experienced once more.

We also seek solace during this time, as we remember God’s loving, promising words to the Jewish people after the Temple destruction (which we read at the end of the fast day): I come to “comfort my people.”

3) We never become complacent and comfortable with the pain and suffering in our world. Maybe things grow from ashes, but we can demand Moshiach; we can pray for a world where riches don’t have to come through hardships and tragedy; we can believe that God can turn this Earth into the utopia that He promised. Focusing on Moshiach ensures that we never accept the status quo; that we demand of God a better tomorrow.

So it’s about feeling the grief, doing our part to rebuild and never becoming complacent.

The world is on fire right now. We’re ready to extinguish it and ready for the wealth.

587 B.C.E., 70 C.E., 2015.

It’s the same story, the same time of year. May we experience God’s ultimate comfort now like the Jews experienced then. 


Rebbetzin Shula Bryski is co-director of Chabad of Thousand Oaks and the founder of rentaspeech.com.

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