The physical destruction of the Beis Hamikdosh that
took place on Tisha B'Av is not the only expression of
churban. It is not even the main expression nor is it
the first expression of the destruction. It all started from
the spiritual churban, as the Shechina was
exiled from the Jewish heart.
"Neither Nevuchadnezzar nor Titus harmed anything up above.
They have neither share nor root in the upper worlds that
would have enabled them to even touch those areas with any
action of theirs. Rather, through our sins, the power
and might, as it were, of the Above were lessened and
weakened, `they defiled the Mikdosh of Hashem,' as it
were, and it was because of that defilement that
Nevuchadnezzar and Titus had the power to destroy the lower
Mikdosh which is the parallel counterpart to the
upper Mikdosh. As Chazal said, `You only ground flour
that was already ground.' Our sins destroyed the abode
above, the holy upper worlds, and they destroyed only the
lower abode. (Nefesh HaChaim, Shaar 1, Chapter 4)
The sticks and stones of the Beis Hamikdash are incidental
to the true destruction that took place because the Jewish
people did not relate properly to Hashem. If our inner
holiness had been intact, the enemy could never have
destroyed the Beis Hamikdosh. Once our inner holiness
was defiled, it was inevitable that the outer expressions of
this holiness on this earth would also collapse.
Our mourning must include this as well. We must appreciate
the loss of an entire society governed by Torah, united in
its aspirations to constantly reach new heights in service
of Hashem. The Beis Hamikdash was the focus of a
society that was utterly different from today. Sensitive to
the laws of tumah and taharoh, oriented to
avodas Hashem in the Beis Hamikdash in
Yerushalayim, on familiar terms with ruach hakodesh,
the Jewish people in those days had a different life from
what we know today.
As long as the Beis Hamikdosh is not rebuilt, it is a sign
that we are also not rebuilt. If we had successfully
reconstructed ourselves as Hashem wants, we would not have
to mourn the churban; we would celebrate its
reconstruction.
Maran HaRav Shach shlita often spoke of the farmer in
the Galil, who wrongly thought that everything is fine as
long as he is able to work his farm. His world, his highest
aspirations, reach no higher than bountiful crops. As soon
as he was back on his farm, he no longer felt the
churban. Today too we must realize that even though
Eretz Yisroel is built up, we still lack the holiness that
was destroyed.
Although we feel deeply how far we are from the ideal, we
can still appreciate what has been accomplished in recent
decades. The growth of the Torah community, both in quantity
and in quality, is quite clear for all to see. Every child
who learns Chumash is a step to the geulah.
Every home that observes Shabbos brings Moshiach that much
closer.
When we go out to the streets we are reminded all too
painfully of how much work we still have to do. Eretz
Yisroel and the Jewish people will one day come together.
Even as we mourn the tangible destruction that we see all
around, we are encouraged by what has been done and most
importantly we must resolve to redouble our efforts to
improve ourselves and our environment.