From my teacher, Rabbi N. D. Kiwak

The majority of the Nine Days have passed and if
not for a sudden change at the last moment we will
soon find ourselves, together with the rest of Klal
Yisroel, siƫng upon the ground in mourning and
crying biƩerly over the gallus (exile) of the Jewish
People and the destrucƟon of the Beis Hamikdash.
A great quesƟon has weighed on the mind these
past few days, and in truth it began a while ago with
the Kinos (lamentaƟons) of the seventeenth of
Tammuz. Most of us asked ourselves what it’s all for
and why this day of mourning was insƟtuted. We
have all heard of the churban (destrucƟon) of the
Beis Hamikdash, and the fate that fell upon the
naƟon is not hidden form us either; we are sunk in
the depths of gallus. Yet it is sƟll ever so difficult to
get the heart to be moved, even a liƩle bit, by the
melody of the Kinos.
What place is there for mourning by the eternal
naƟon? Is it our way to cry over the past? Surly it is
beƩer to liŌ our eyes to the future and move
forward? The liturgies speak of the past and the
tears follow amidst forgoƩen memories. Why
should we sit on the ground grieving the suffering of
the past? It is because of this quesƟon that we
would prefer to skip a few days ahead and find
ourselves in the company of Shabbos Nachamu (be
comforted). Isn’t this so…
The most ancient baƩle on earth
There is no doubt, in Judaism there is no room for
mourning and sadness. If the ninth day of Av did not
represent something loŌy and awesome, we would
find no special note of this date at all. Purposeless
crying is no less than a sin and whenever the Jewish
People have done so, the result has been horrific. If
Tish’a B’av was nothing more than an expression of
our weakness this date would have no place in the
calendar.
True – Tish’a B’Av is a day of destrucƟon. However,
it is even more so a day of building; it is the day of
the formaƟon and establishment of the Malchus
D’Kedusha (Kingdom of Holiness). Not only does the
churban not portray any degree of weakness, it
actually reveals and illuminates more than anything
else the strength, eternalness, and hope of the
Malchus D’Kedusha.
These two – the Malchus D’Kedusha and the
Malchus D’Sitra Achra (Kingdom of Evil), have
always existed, in constant baƩle, as the Divine
Wisdom decreed. As long as the world is as we
know it, the kingship and sovereignty is balancing
on the scales between holiness and its enemy, and
as one falls the other rises.
For a long Ɵme this baƩle has raged, someƟmes the
Kingdom of Holiness overpowers its rival, rises and
adorns itself with splendor and glory. Other Ɵmes,
the other side of the scale rises and conquers.
Infinite changes and oscillaƟons have been
documented in the chronicles of Ɵme and the
ancient feud for control arises each Ɵme anew.
The way of the world is that one kingdom does not
tolerate another and how much more so is this true
when its very existence is being challenged.
Kingdoms who find themselves at odds with each
other seek only one thing – the absolute destrucƟon
of the opponent. Victory is the absolute submission
of the adversary, and as long as a hint of life
remains, the victory is imperfect. To be victorious
means to take absolute control and a Kingdom that
leaves even the slightest place for its opponent’s
return is not complete.
The Kingdom of Evil has always claimed that it has
the upper hand. Many facts have aƩested to this
and reality has always seemed to be willing to
tesƟfy on its behalf. Things down here seem to
clearly indicate that it is truly so and with almost
every glance one perceives the Kingdom of Evil
taking a strong hold on all four corners of the earth,
casƟng its inhabitants in every direcƟon and doing
as it pleases.
On the average day it is very difficult to provide a
convincing counter argument. The Kingdom of Evil
by nature has a way with words and has no trouble
finding a plaƞorm for its campaign. It generally fills
the world with its roar and it is almost impossible to
discern the humble voice of the Kingdom of
Holiness.
On Tish’a B’av the great wonder takes place. On this
biƩer day, in the midst of the destrucƟon, the
Kingdom of Holiness makes a glorious and
splendorous appearance. No, it is not the revelaƟon
of “the sound of a great noise” (Yechezkel 3;12),
the sound of trumpets and horns, the beaƟng of
drums and the roaring of mighty warriors. On Tish’a
B’Av, the Kingdom of Holiness declares its eternity
with a long and quite voice.
“Eicha” – The victory call
The past three weeks include within them all the
difficult Ɵmes that Klal Yisroel has ever known. In
these twenty one days we have seen Ɵme and again
what the other side is capable of. We have seen the
Kingdom of Evil raging with fury, striking leŌ and
right, destroying and burning, eradicaƟng all that is
good. Everything seemed to come to its aid and for
a few moments it seemed as if it’s cruel hand had
reached right to the deepest point, to the place
from which there is no return.
When the difficult days had passed, on the ninth of
Av, when the splendor of Yisroel remained as
nothing more than a mound of scorched earth,
whilst the pillars of fire and clouds of smoke
covered the earth and the ground had been
saturated with Jewish blood, suddenly, from amidst
the destrucƟon, the Kingdom of Holiness sprouted
forth and arose again; weakened, exhausted and
scorched, but alive, and very much so.
It is then that the world understands that there is
simply nothing that can be done, the Kedusha is
immortal and nothing can destroy it. Evil had
released its full fury and power against the beloved
Children of Israel, and Jerusalem and the Beis
Hamikdash were leŌ in ruins. Permission had been
granted to all who wish, to come and take part in
the destrucƟon. “On the contrary, do as you like,
and when it’s all over and the forces of destrucƟon
have been exhausted, take a look and see that
nothing will help you.”
This is exactly what we do on Tish’a B’Av. The cry of
“Eicha” (( is not one of mourning, it is one of איכה
searching. On this day Klal Yisroel sit, look upon the
destrucƟon of the world together with that of the
soul and then turn their eyes upwards. Then, from
amidst the terrible pain the true reality rises and is
revealed. DestrucƟon – there is no such thing, the
Kingdom of Evil was granted permission to strike
bricks and stone, to murder and destroy physical
bodies, but never more than this. The Kingdom of
Holiness itself remained exactly as it was before,
even as mounds of earth were heaped upon its
back. Within the most devastaƟng of ruins, inside
the mountains of ashes, Hashem is to be found
exactly as He was before the destrucƟon…exactly.
We seat ourselves on the ground and scream out:
“Ayeh-kah - ‘where are You’ father? We (כה‐איה(
have no doubt that no force in the world can banish
You from Your dwelling place. The greatest and
most persuasive accuser cannot challenge, even a
drop, the infinite love that You have for Your naƟon.
If so, how can it be that You are now hidden,
how…?”
The cry of “Eicha” is called out by each Jew in his
personal baƩle. Specifically from amidst the heap of
bones that remains of him, from within the ruins of
the soul and the mountains of challenges, is it fiƫng
for the victory call of “Ayeh?” (where) to be heard.
“Eicha” is the last remaining bullet that a Jew has in
his rifle, it is the last shot that is taken aŌer
everything had seemed hopeless, and the forces of
evil have no way to cope with it. For a Jew, even in
the lowliest and filthiest place, who stubbornly says
“Master of the world, I know You are here, so why
do You hide Yourself?” he is the one who waves the
flag of victory.
“Eicha” is the declaraƟon of a search, one that takes
place from amidst the clear knowledge that what
we are searching for is certainly to be found. It is
the eternal stubbornness of the Kingdom of
Holiness that nothing can disconnect it from its
faithfulness to Hashem. It is the call of victory. □