In The Zone

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

We have all heard of Oorah and are familiar with its jingles, loveable mascot Fiveish, and annual Chinese auction. We have seen its ads and know that Oorah has something to do with kiruv, but most of us don’t know what the organization is all about.

I spent this past Shabbos in TheZone, Oorah’s summer camp for boys. There is a separate camp for girls as well. I had been there twice previously; the last time was nine years ago. Though I knew what to expect, I was bowled over by what is probably the greatest secret in Jewish camping and kiruv.

It was Shabbos Nachamu and it was a nechomah to see and partake in what goes on there.

As Kabbolas Shabbos began the last time I was there, the head counselor announced that those present were about to experience the best Kabbolas Shabbos in their lives. For most of the hundreds present, it would not be much of a contest. For the overwhelming majority of the campers, if they wouldn’t be in TheZone, they would not be experiencing Shabbos.

There was no such announcement this past Friday night, but the scene was similar, though this time it was much more touching. So many of our brothers and sisters in this country have been swept away by assimilation, lost to our people. In some places, the intermarriage rates are 90% and there is little hope of reaching those people, who have deviated so far from Judaism that it is almost impossible to find them, much less be able to approach them and send them a rope with which they can reattach themselves to their heritage.

The counselors, yeshiva bochurim who volunteer their bein hazemanim to make a difference in the lives of Jewish children, and guests at the camp were in for a special experience. It was a nechomah to watch how public school kids, who were new to Shabbos and to davening and so much else, were mekabel Shabbos that night. Slowly, but surely, the bais medrash came to life. We watched children trying mightily to daven. Their fingers, which would otherwise be typing on their phones or flipping channels, pointed to the letters in their siddurim, as they tried valiantly to sing the praises of Hashem and His Shabbos.

After growing up in homes where Torah, Shabbos, kosher and mitzvos are foreign concepts, and after going to public elementary and high school and attending college with no religious education, who can blame them for knowing nothing about and having no interest in Judaism, or anything Jewish, including Israel?

After growing up with Saturday as just another day off, with McDonald’s and Burger King as favorite restaurants, and learning morality—or the lack thereof—from public school teachers and off-the-deep-end professors, quite often there is nothing that even hints at their genetic Judaism. Millions and millions have been swept away.

Oorah reaches these Jews when they are still young, before they have been so tainted that there is no way back. The camp is a key tool in teaching kids with love about who they are, where they are from, and what that means for them.

I looked at the children as they davened, their small, cherubic faces topped with a variety of yarmulkas, wearing tzitzis for the very first time in their lives. Their fingers pointed at the letters of the prayers they had just learned about last week when they experienced their first Shabbos. This week was their second Shabbos, and they seemed to be into it and enjoying it. I looked into the eyes of some of these children and saw a neshomah coming to life—a comforting sight in a confused world. As so many are being lost, these are being found, and you can see their latent sparks igniting right in front of you.

We wait all week for Shabbos and its brachos, and the menucha it brings. We take it for granted, but for many of these children, Shabbos is something unfamiliar, something they are just beginning to learn about. They have the zechus to be in this camp for a month, having a great time and discovering davening, learning, tzitzis, Shabbos, and other mitzvos. They have Torah sessions with their volunteer bnei Torah TorahMates, who will continue learning with them throughout the year over the phone.

At a time when the governments of the United States and Israel have all but declared war on religion, it was comforting to see further proof that they won’t succeed.

For an hour before the Shabbos meal, the boys learn the mitzvah of the week with their TorahMate chavrusos in the various botei medrash on campus, each pair on their level. I circulated among them with Rabbi Mintz, asking them questions on what they had studied and engaging in conversation with them about where they are from and what school they attend. While every one of them attends public school, they were deeply engrossed in learning about the mitzvah of kibbud av vo’eim.

The children hailed from a variety of states, cities and countries.

One boy is from France. He lives there, goes to school there, and thinks that France is a better place to live than the United States. Why? “Because it’s much more normal.” And no, he hasn’t seen much anti-Semitism where he lives. I hope he’s right. He is spending a month in camp, getting acquainted with Torah and a path that we hope will lead him to Torah.

Another boy lives in Tel Aviv. This isn’t his first time at camp. He was there two years ago and liked it so much that he returned this year with two cousins. Imagine that! Three boys from the heart of Tel Aviv traveling to the United States to become familiar with Torah. It’s almost like a good news/bad news story. Jewish boys in the Jewish state know little about Torah and religion, so where do they go to get introduced? To Oorah’s Zone in New York State. You can’t make it up.

Another boy was from San Antonio. Another was from Hewlett, Long Island, one of the Five Towns, next door to Lawrence and Cedarhurst, and very close to Yeshiva Toras Chaim in Woodmere. He goes to the Hewlett-Woodmere Middle School.

For an hour, these boys and hundreds of others sat and studied Torah. I wish you could have been there with me and seen campers and counselors escape this world and climb to a much holier place. Those who wonder what Oorah does should have been in that room and felt the energy and the kedusha. They would have experienced the mesirah of Torah from special yeshiva bochurim who give up their bein hazemanim for this holy cause.

It was a nechomah to be there and speak to the campers. They shared their stories, relating how far they have come and how far they have to go. The kid from P.S. 41 was as sweet as can be. You look at him and your heart breaks knowing where he came from and where he is headed unless the bochurim, rabbeim and leaders of Oorah are able to convince his parents to enroll him in a yeshiva.

It is overwhelming when you ask a boy what he likes most about camp and he says, “Shabbat. I never knew what it was. It’s awesome.”

You don’t know what will happen with him when he leaves camp. Will he be able to maintain his love for Shabbat in his secular home? Will his appreciation for kedusha remain vibrant in the world of public school and ta’aruvos of every type? Will his Torah time with his TorahMate keep him connected through the year until camp rolls around again?

I met several boys and yungeleit who are now learning in yeshivos, thanks to Oorah and its team of volunteers. Oorah started them off, moved them along, enrolled them in appropriate yeshivos, helped with tuition, assisted in getting them married, and remain connected with them. They came back to camp to help do for others what was done for them.

One college student approached me with some questions and then told me about his friend, who is with him in camp and wants to study in a yeshiva in Israel but needs help to accomplish that. Oorah is assisting him, but he needs to show his commitment as well. One boy helping another to progress along the religious path… Is there anything more touching?

Kids in camp have questions. One asked a shailah about whether he could make Kiddush on soda when he goes back home. He mentioned that his parents are not religious and he doesn’t think that he can start keeping Shabbos just yet. However, he wants to keep something. Camp lit a spark inside him, and he wants to keep it flickering. He wants to make Kiddush at home every Shabbos, but there’s no grape juice in his house. So, he wants to know if he could make Kiddush on soda and recall what Shabbos was like in camp. He wants to maintain some kedusha in his life.

A real boy, a real question, a real Yid, who will one day learn Torah and be shomer Shabbos thanks to Oorah.

Not only is the Shabbos davening special, but the meals are as well. The food and service are exceptional, probably better than anything they get at home. And the dining room comes alive as it’s time to sing the “Shabbat zemirot at the Zone.”

The tunes are the classics we all know and grew up with, but TheZone campers hear them for the first time when they experience Shabbos in camp. They quickly get the hang of the songs and are swept up as the hundreds of people in the room sing the century-old niggunim with heartfelt enthusiasm.

The melodies remain the same, but the words are written in English in a way that the kids can understand and relate to. It touches their souls and envelops them in holiness.

They sing Shalom Aleichem and the words, “Bo’achem leshalom, we’re all prepared for a peaceful Shabbos, day of rest, a taste of the holy and divine.”

As they wind it down, they sing, “Tzeischem leshalom, go in peace, go with shalom, keep this image in your heart, let this scene of bringing Shabbos home and to TheZone set our week apart.”

That tune stays with them, and they bring it back home. They influence their family, introducing them to Shabbos, Kiddush, and zemiros. You never know how far it can go. Oorah connects with the parents, helping them reconnect with their heritage and where they come from.

Bit by bit, word by word, niggun by niggun, mitzvah by mitzvah, Oorah guides them along, bringing nechomah to entire families as they bring them home and to us, while the kanfei haShechinah expands.

Chicagoans who were alive in 1946 when Chief Rabbi Yitzchok Isaac Herzog came to town never forgot his message. He arrived soon after the Holocaust, and multitudes of people gathered to greet him in one of Chicago’s large shuls. All the local rabbonim were there, along with important baalei batim, lovers of Torah, and bochurim of all ages.

First, he delivered a shiur. When that was done, he began to speak in a plaintive voice. He told the crowd that he had come to Chicago from Rome, where he had had an audience with the Pope.

He came to town after meeting with the Pope, as he attempted to convince the Catholic Church to release ten thousand children, whose names he had brought with him. Many of the children had been kidnapped. Others had been handed over by desperate parents on their way to the gas chambers.

Rav Herzog recounted how the Pope refused his request. Then he began crying uncontrollably. He couldn’t continue. He bent over, propping himself up on the podium, and continued to sob loudly. The people were in shock. They sat there in absolute silence. There was no sound in the vast room other than the terrible sobs of pain from the respected rov.

He finally composed himself, though his face was red and he was visibly agitated. He called out to the assembled and said, “I have done everything I possibly could for those kinder. There is nothing more I can do for those 10,000 Yiddishe kinder.” Then he thundered, “What are you going to do for Klal Yisroel’s kinder? You all have an achrayus to Klal Yisroel’s children! You must never forget that. Never forget what I am telling you. Everyone has to do something for the children of Klal Yisroel.”

Everyone who was in that shul that night and heard the appeal was changed and resolved to do something to help Yiddishe kinder.

We no longer have people like Rav Herzog and the Ponovezher Rov, whose Holocaust experiences drove them to do what they could to save Yiddishe kinder, but the need is the same, if not greater. So many Yiddishe neshamos are getting swallowed up, not by the church, but by the forces of tumah in the public schools and on the streets.

We all need to feel some type of achrayus to them, and to their zaides and bubbes who fought to keep mitzvos.

Rav Chaim Mintz heard the cry of the children. He saw them slipping away and developed the idea of Oorah, which blossomed into an empire of kiruv.

It was a long drive there and a long drive back, but I am so happy I went and saw Yiddishe kinder of the type that are getting lost being brought back by Yidden with achrayus who dedicate their lives to their mission. I am happy I got to see and touch the flame and work to make it a little stronger.

Ashreichem and ashrei all who dedicate their lives to working with Jewish children, through chinuch and kiruv, keeping them under the kanfei haShechinah through Torah and mesirus haTorah b’derech Yisroel sava.

May Hakadosh Boruch Hu bentch all who work to keep the flame lit and prepare the world for Moshiach Tzidkeinu.

Nachamu: From Darkness to Light

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipchutz

We are all familiar with the concept that the tefillah of Ashrei, which we recite three times daily, is comprised of pesukim that begin with all the Hebrew letters in corresponding order. All of the letters, that is, except one. There is no posuk in Ashrei that begins with the letter nun.

The source of this appears in the Gemara Brachos (4b): Rabi Yochanan taught that the reason there is no posuk in Ashrei beginning with the letter nun is because that letter is used to depict the defeat of Klal Yisroel, for the posuk states (Amos 5:2), “Noflah, she fell, and will never be able to get back up, the girls of Yisroel.”

The Gemara (ibid.) says that in Eretz Yisroel, the posuk was read to express a positive message. They read it like this: “Noflah, lo sosif, kum besulas Yisroel - She fell, but not for long, rise up the girls of Yisroel.”

The Vilna Gaon asks how the Gemara can go out of its way to explain the posuk with a positive connotation when it appears among the harsh prophecies that Amos Hanovi envisioned for the Jewish people? A posuk with a comforting prophecy clearly doesn’t fit there.

He explains that this awful prophecy contains a happy prophecy as well, as it foretells that the Jewish people will fall to such a low level that they will not be able to fall any lower. Therefore, the way the people of Eretz Yisroel read the posuk is justified, for the posuk fits in with those surrounding it. “Noflah lo sosif, Klal Yisroel will fall so low that it will not be able to fall any lower.” First, the posuk speaks of the terrible times. Then it says, “Kum besulas Yisroel,” meaning that since they will have fallen so low, the only place for them to go from there would be up.

With this, the Vilna Gaon explains another Gemara that deals with prophetic curses. The Gemara in Chagigah (14a) states that Yeshayahu Hanovi cursed Klal Yisroel with 18 curses, but he wasn’t pacified until he recited this posuk (Yeshayahu 3:5): “The youth will behave with arrogance, raising themselves above their elders, and the low people will behave this way with those who are deserving of respect.”

He asked why Yeshayahu would be pacified by this prophecy. He did not hate Am Yisroel. Rather, he was the prophet of consolation. In fact, the seven haftaros of nechomah that we read for the next seven weeks are all prophecies of Yeshayahu. Why would this terrible prophecy bring Yeshayahu happiness?

He answers along the same lines with which he explained the Gemara in Brachos. Yeshayahu understood that the Jewish people would not commence their upward climb until they had fallen to the lowest level possible. When constructing a new building to replace one that was destroyed, it is necessary to clear away the entire building until its foundation or the new building will fall.

When Klal Yisroel sinks to this level of chutzpah and insolence, it will be a sign of ikvesa d’Meshicha, for they will have fallen to the lowest levels of human behavior, and from there the only way to go is up, and the process that will lead to Moshiach can begin.

Thus, Yeshayahu, the novi of nechomah, was happy when he foresaw that the people would sink to such a low level, because he knew that the geulah would then begin.

This is what took place when Hashem redeemed the Jews from Mitzrayim. Chazal teach that they had sunk to the 49^th level of tumah when Hashem took them out of Mitzrayim. They sunk as low as it was possible to sink and still be saved, and therefore Hashem took them out. Reaching the lowest level of tumah is what brought about their redemption.

We can also understand the words of the Tur and Bais Yosef in Hilchos Tisha B’Av (siman 557), which discusses when on Tisha B’Av we recite the prayer of Nacheim, which refers to a consolation for Klal Yisroel following the awful churban. The Tur cites his father, the Rishon, known as the Rosh, who questions why Nacheim is only recited at Mincha and not at Maariv and Shacharis.

The Bais Yosef, in his commentary, quotes the Gemara where this issue is first discussed and the disputes that followed as to when the consoling prayer of Nacheim should be recited. He writes, “It appears to me that the reasoning for the shitah that says to only recite Nacheim at Mincha is because the Bais Hamikdosh was [fully destroyed and] set on fire towards evening. Therefore, [in the tefillah which is recited] at that time, we mention the baseness of Yerushalayim and its mourning and daven for its consolation.”

With the answer of the Vilna Gaon, we can understand the Bais Yosef, for when the Bais Hamikdosh was totally destroyed, it was evident that Yerushalayim was at its lowest and there would be no further destruction. From that point, they would begin their upward trajectory and work to bring back that which had been lost. This is the time to offer and accept consolation, because it will not get worse; it will only get better. That is why we wait until the time when the Bais Hamikdosh was totally destroyed and set ablaze to recite Nacheim.

This concept is found in previous sources, such as the Abarbanel (Bereishis 5:2), Maharal (Netzach Yisroel 26), and Rav Tzadok Hakohein of Lublin (Tzidkas Hatzaddik). They state that we learn from the way the world was created, night before day, that with everything that happens in the world, darkness precedes light and emptiness comes before growth.

This is apparent when a seed is planted. Nothing grows from that seed until it rots away into nothingness, and when that happens, it begins to sprout.

This also explains why Rabi Akiva smiled when he viewed the Har Habayis where the Bais Hamikdosh stood and saw a fox exit from the place of the Kodesh Hakodoshim. He explained that when he saw that the prophecy that the holy place would be totally destroyed came to pass, he knew that the prophecy about Yerushalayim being repopulated and the Bais Hamikdosh being rebuilt would also be realized.

The utter destruction comforted him, because out of desolation comes growth.

The posuk (Micha 7:8) states, “Ki eishev bachoshech Hashem ohr li.” This is commonly understood as “When I sit in darkness, Hashem provides me light.” Rav Tzadok explains it differently, writing that it expresses the thinking of people of faith: “When I am surrounded by darkness and experience loss, and it appears as if Hashem is hidden, I know that Hashem will shine His light upon me and I will find salvation.”

For such is the way of life. Success and light follow darkness and failure.

So often in life, people experience a downturn, and it seems as if Hashem has forgotten them and allowed them to fail. But those who maintain their faith and a positive outlook are able to regroup, rebuild, and succeed where they had failed.

Following the Holocaust and its tragic losses, people who lived through unimaginable human tragedy and misery were shattered and devastated. When the war ended, they had a choice, a very difficult choice, so difficult for us to conceive in the comfortable golus we now find ourselves in. They could either give in to the sadness that overwhelmed them and become lost in the darkness, devoid of faith in Hashem and the future, or they could gather themselves together, and understand that Hashem would rescue them from the depths of devastation if they would look ahead to a better future. They went on to rebuild what they had lost and gave birth to new families and communities where they flourished.

We find ourselves now in a time of darkness. Iran and its proxies seek our destruction. The nations of the world detest, condemn, and torment us. The socialist Jew-haters are gaining, and it is difficult to trust that should they grab the levers of power, they will look kindly to our interests and to Israel. In Israel, at the same that the country fights for its very survival, the left has launched a war against the institutions of Torah and those who dedicate their lives to its study.

For many, it is a fearful time, and people fret about what the future will bring. Will the forces of morality and decency win, or will the others? How strongly will Iran attack Eretz Yisroel and its inhabitants? Will the small country be empowered to repel the evil empire and its proxies? How many will die in the effort?

The novi Yeshayahu calls out to us in our darkness, in the depths of golus, and says, “Nachamu, nachamu,” it is time now to be consoled. Be comforted in your sorrow and fears. You are suffering. Am Yisroel is suffering. But you must know that the sadness and deprivation indicate that recovery and redemption are on their way.

Nachamu. The pains are birth pangs, indications that we are in ikvesa d’Meshicha, the period leading to the arrival of Moshiach, which will herald the end of the golus and the onset of the redemption.

Nachamu. When we see the yeitzer hora seemingly empowered to tempt and corrupt people through more vices and devices, when we see the forces of tumah and evil on the march, when inflation climbs incessantly and we are unable to keep up, we should know that these are further signs of the imminent nechomah and geulah.

Nachamu. When we see the faithless anxious and fearful over what the next day will bring, when we see those who deny Hashem’s existence battling Torah, its students, and its followers, know that if you remain strong and dedicated, things will turn around and the yeshuah will surely arrive.

Nachamu. Monday night and Tuesday morning, we sat with lights dimmed, on the floor, reciting painful lamentations and hearing the plaintive wail of Eicha. This Shabbos, we will lain Parshas Va’eschanon and identify with Moshe Rabbeinu’s desperate desire to behold the Land, to touch its soil, and to fulfill its special mitzvos. And then the pleasant chords of Nachamu tug at our souls, as we echo Moshe Rabbeinu’s prayer with much eagerness.

Nachamu. Our nation has endured much suffering and hardship. We have had periods of great tragedy, losses, and sadness. Our parents and grandparents, and their parents, suffered through the awful pogroms in der heim. They were poor and hungry, freezing cold during the winter and boiling hot during the summer. Then came the Great Depression and the terrible Holocaust. They hit rock bottom. From there, it was only uphill. Their lives were spared, their souls restored. They found homes and jobs. Communities began to blossom and haven’t stopped growing. Shuls, schools and yeshivos were opened and haven’t stopped expanding. There are more people studying Torah than ever before. There have been bumps along the way, many bumps, but each failure, each regression, each period of weakness was followed by even more success and growth.

Nachamu. The darkness surrounding us in this period of golus underscores how close we are to the coming of the geulah. The darkness will give way to a great light that will shine upon the world when Hashem returns His Shechinah to the Har Habayis, which is now utterly defiled. The Bais Hamikdosh will soon be rebuilt, and sadness and grieving will be replaced by sasson v’simcha with the arrival of Moshiach, speedily in our days.

When Will It End

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Once again, we are reminded that we are living in historic and dangerous times. Israel’s assassination of terror leaders in retribution for the wanton murder of twelve Israeli children has led to a sense of impending war in Eretz Yisroel. As of this writing, Israelis are waiting fearfully for Iran and its proxies to shower the country with a rain of powerful rockets, never previously seen or experienced. As the mournful month of Av begins, we watch from afar with much trepidation.

We see that al pi derech hateva, Israel is in a fight for its very existence, dependent more than ever on the United States, which is being led by a weak administration. Americans are resolute in their support of Israel, but the country’s leaders have been sending mixed signals. To be fair, the United States has been backing Israel, providing the artillery, munitions, and support Israel required to keep the Gaza war going until now. At the same time, President Biden has been holding back the delivery of equipment Israel deems essential, while pressing Israel to sign onto a cease-fire deal that they don’t see as being in their best interest. Despite the rhetoric of absolute support, there are obvious cracks and leaks that undermine Israel’s position.

We are living through a very difficult period in a very difficult world. The United States is in a difficult situation as fears of recession settle in and markets crash. The media is in full throttle for Kamala Harris, and the fact that she is an extreme liberal with near-socialist leanings has been buried as the propaganda campaign for her election bears fruit. Americans are confused and apparently easily influenced to support a candidate who is not in their best interest. It is often stated at election time that the future of the country is at stake, and this time it seems truer than ever.

We are fearful of the present as well as of the future. We don’t know where to turn and are quite apprehensive about the tenuousness of our situation. Wherever Jews find themselves, we are reminded that we are in golus.

We have not yet perfected ourselves and made ourselves worthy of Moshiach ben Yosef arriving and foretelling the arrival of Moshiach ben Dovid. Thus, we remain in golus.

As we contemplate the current reminders that we are in golus, we see that people who had become so assimilated that they almost lost touch with Judaism are now reminded to reattach to the faith of their forefathers and mothers. Secular Israelis, such as those who were celebrating a music festival when it was attacked on Simchas Torah, were shocked into adopting mitzvos.

We realize that history is being made daily, and as the events unfold, they are carefully guided and orchestrated by Hashem. Presidents, prime ministers, and generals are in Hashem’s hands, acting out His plans to prepare the world for Moshiach’s coming.

Let us view what is transpiring through the lens of golus and geulah.

We live in the times of ikvesa d’Meshicha, the times Chazal warned about. We must increase our devotion to limud haTorah, lomdei Torah, and shemiras hamitzvos. We have to embrace each other and increase the achdus among us, ridding ourselves of hate and division.

The world was created for Torah, and in its merit, we exist and prosper. We support Torah and Torah supports us. As we approach the days of Moshiach, we have merited to see support of Torah becoming popular, with unprecedented amounts of money being raised for yeshivos. There can be no greater zechus than assisting yeshivos and kollelim to sustain themselves and expand. We need great zechuyos these days.

When our forefather Yaakov perceived that his family was going to be living in Mitzrayim, he sent Yehudah ahead to establish a yeshiva where they would be able to study Torah. Yaakov was doing what was necessary to sustain his family and also sending a message to future generations that yeshivos are vital to our existence and continuity. All throughout Jewish history, there have been yeshivos wherever we were, and the yeshivos helped our people remain vibrant and endure. We must do what we can to ensure their financial stability and vitality.

During the period leading up to the Gulf War, people were fearful of what would happen to Eretz Yisroel. Iraq’s ruler, Saddam Hussein, was threatening that if America attacked his country, he would retaliate by bombing Israel with rockets loaded with explosives, as well as disease-causing agents, killing by sickness those who wouldn’t die from his explosions.

People were fleeing Israel to places considered safer. Students from overseas were being pressured by their families to return home. Many turned to Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach for his counsel. He advised those who asked him what to do, to remain in Eretz Yisroel for the duration. He said that while the fate of Israel should a war break out with Iraq wasn’t clear, it was equally unclear what the situation would be in foreign countries. He ruled, with the clarity borne of decades of toil in Torah, that since at that time Eretz Yisroel was not a greater makom sakanah than anywhere else, it was folly to try to figure out which place was safer than the other.

Iran threatens not only Israel, but the entire Middle East. It openly threatens Jews wherever they are, and governments everywhere are advising Jewish people to take extra precautions. And it threatens the United States, just as it does Israel. No place is safe from the long reach of its terror. Our safety depends on Hashem, and tefillah is crucial.

It happened once that the lion, king of the animals, decided to hold a birthday celebration for himself. A call went out from the kingdom that every animal was obligated to attend the celebration and must also bring a present to the king.

All the animals from near and far converged on the appointed day to take part in the great celebration of the king’s birthday. The fox also came, but he couldn’t decide on an appropriate gift and arrived empty-handed.

Suddenly, the gathering grew silent as the gift presentation ceremony got underway. One by one, each animal approached the lion king, bowed, and presented a gift. And then the turn of the fox came. Though considered very wise, he had done something very unwise and had come without a gift.

The king’s minister suggested that since the fox is known for his wisdom and wisdom is housed in the heart, the fox should present his heart to the king as a gift on this great day of celebration. The king readily agreed to the proposal. The fox, however, fearing that he was outfoxed, shuddered at the idea of the king ripping out his heart and killing him. He thought quickly.

“My dear king,” he said, “it is true that my heart is very precious and would make an appropriate gift to His Highness on his birthday. However, because of the great value of the heart, I guard it extremely well so that it does not get hurt and I don’t take it with me wherever I go. I leave it at home in a special place under lock and key. Therefore, I ask of you that you allow me to leave the party to run home and retrieve it so that I may present it to you.”

The benevolent king acquiesced to the heartfelt request. The fox ran off as fast as his legs could carry him and lived happily ever after.

Rav Yosef Tzvi Dushinsky, rov of Yerushalayim, told this story as a parable to explain the posuk that we all know that appears at the end of Eicha: “Al zeh hayah doveh libeinu, al eileh choshchu eineinu, al Har Tzion sheshomeim, shualim hilchu vo.” He explained it as follows:

Al zeh hayah doveh libeinu: Why is it so long that we have been forced to mourn the destruction of the Botei Mikdosh? Why have our eyes blackened from this long and arduous golus?

Shualim hilchu vo: It is because we have been acting like the fox in the little fable that left his heart at home. We also leave our hearts at home. We go to shul to daven, and instead of using our heart to think about the meaning of what we are saying and daven with concentration, we mumble our way through the prayers without heart because we left our hearts at home.

Al zeh, this is the reason, doveh libeinu, that we have become blackened and distraught over mourning the churban for so long. Shualim hilchu vo, we have been davening like a fox, with no heart and no thought.

Our davening has the ability to bring the geulah, but we have to concentrate on what we are saying, recite each word carefully, and say it with heart and conviction.

The Vilna Gaon says in next week’s parsha of Va’eschanon that when Hashem created His world, He empowered tefillah as a part of teva. Tefillah has the power to change things, to erase gezeiros and harsh judgments. But it goes without saying that tefillah only has that power when done properly, with heart and kavanah.

In all times, and especially in a time such as now, we need to pay more attention to our tefillos. During the summer, when we aren’t in a rush anywhere, we have the opportunity to slow down and take the time to ensure that we say each word properly, without slurring or mumbling, giving thought and heart to what we are saying. Doing so can change our lives and can change the course of the world.

We are in a period when nobody knows what the next day will bring. We can effect change and help ourselves in our matzovim and our brethren in theirs by adding a few minutes to our davening. There is nothing to lose and everything to gain.

The Chofetz Chaim asked Rav Binyomin Hatzaddik, the Maggid of Radin, the following question. Many times, Jews have gone through rough patches. Winds of war were blowing and it felt as if Moshiach was on the way. Then things settled down and Moshiach did not arrive. What happened? What went wrong? He was so close. Why didn’t he come? The golus so is long and the night is so dark. When will it end?

The Maggid answered with a parable. He said that on a winter day, some people set out on a long journey in a wagon, as that was the mode of travel in those days. They hired a comfortable wagon that traveled on skis, as two strong horses dragged it through the Russian tundra.

They set out at night. As the driver tended to the horses and the road, they got comfortable, recited chapters of Tehillim, drank alcohol to keep themselves warm, and engaged in small talk. This went on for a few hours, and then they drifted to sleep. As they slept for twelve hours, the sun rose and set. After the sun had set, they woke up, said some Tehillim, spoke to each other for a couple of hours, and then decided that it was time for a drink. With the alcohol again in their systems, they quickly dozed off and slept through the entire next day.

By the time they woke up, it was dark again. They turned to the driver and asked him what was going on. “How long can a night last? We’ve been traveling for so long and it’s still night! When will we see daylight again?”

The driver responded to them, “Silly people, one day passed and another day passed, but you slept through them.”

The Radiner Maggid explained that this was addressed by Yeshayahu Hanovi, who says, “Shomer mah mile’il, omar shomer asah boker vegam loylah, im toboyun boyu, shuvu eisoyu.” We ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu, who is the Shomer Yisroel, “Shomer mah mile’il,” why is this night of golus so long? The Shomer responds, “Asah boker,” the morning has come; there were many opportunities for redemption, for geulah, for the great light to shine. “Vegam loylah,” but you missed your opportunity, and therefore darkness returned.

The solution, he said, comes in the second half of the prophecy. “Im toboyun, boyu.” If you want the light of the redemption to shine, you must daven for it. And Rashi adds that if you want to hurry along the redemption, “Shuvu eisoyu,” then you must do teshuvah and repent.

So many times, we were almost there, but we needed the extra push, and we needed to daven more and better, and we didn’t. We needed to do teshuvah, but we didn’t. The opportunity slipped by.

I’ve written previously that the last time I spoke with my rebbi, Rav Moshe Shapiro, Iran’s saber-rattling and nuclear ambitions were in the news and people were fearful. I asked what we should be thinking at the time as the world and Eretz Yisroel shook in fear. He looked me in the eyes and said, as only he could, “Pinny, herr gut vos ich zog eich. Der vos veis epes vegen di zachen, anybody who knows anything about these things, knows that this will lead to the geulah.”

May we do what is incumbent upon us, and may his words come true very soon, as this chodesh of mourning is turned into a chodesh of joy, bimeheirah beyomeinu. Amein.