“RABBI’S MUSINGS (& AMUSINGS)”
Erev Shabbos Kodesh parshas Devorim/Chazon
3 Menachem Av 5780/July 24, 2020
Avos perek 2
JOY OF PAIN
It’s an
old Camp Dora Golding tradition. On Friday afternoon, the staff plays against
the camp administration in a competitive baseball game. For most of the well
over two decades that I’ve been here in camp, those games have been a mainstay
of erev Shabbos in camp. During the last few summers however, those games
fizzled out. But this past Friday, it was back on the schedule.
So, as
I’ve done so many times before, on Friday afternoon I took my place on the
mound to pitch for the administration team. It’s been a few years since the
administration really had a competitive team and were more than a collection of
has-beens with Bengay. But this year we have some young blood due to a few
former staff members who have come up through the CDG farm system to become
administrators. (I call them the ad-MINI-stration.) It was bound to be a
competitive game.
I
pitched a perfect game through the first batter, and never looked back. (Well,
except for a bunch of hits and homeruns. But those aren’t so important.)
Admittedly,
I’m not as young as I will be. Although I made sure to stretch before the game,
it didn’t take long after the game before I started to feel the strain. My
pitching hand begin to ache along with the back of my left leg. On Shabbos
morning I had a hard time walking because the Charlie horse in my foot became
even more pronounced.
It was
interesting that although it hurt to walk, the pain was, in a strange way, a
good feeling, at least psychologically. I knew that it meant I was working
those muscles and that in the following weeks, if I play again, it won’t hurt
as much.
Rabbi
Dr. Abraham Twersky recounted that during his residency in medical school, he
was doing rounds in the hospital when a young patient told him he was feeling
terrible pain in his leg. Dr. Twerski offered to write him a prescription for
painkillers. The young man replied that he had not had any feelings in his legs
and was extremely concerned. The fact that his feet were hurting him made him
very happy, because it demonstrated that there was still feeling in his legs.
In a
similar vein, Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau relates that, following his release
from Buchenwald, he and 220 other boys were taken to an orphanage in France.
One afternoon, a Holocaust survivor named Leibovich came to visit them.
Leibovich
had lost his wife and children during the Holocaust and wanted to donate the
money he had from his textile business to help children orphaned during the
Holocaust. When he saw them, he burst into tears, crying out in Yiddish
“Children! Children!” The youngsters - none of whom had wept in years -
suddenly found themselves weeping along with him, sobbing uncontrollably with
pent-up emotions.
One of
the boys got up to speak afterwards and thanked Leibovich for enabling them to
cry.
The
young boy noted that he had seen his father murdered before his eyes, but had
restrained his tears, so as not to give the Gestapo the satisfaction of seeing
him break down. He had seen his mother die of starvation, and again had
controlled his tears. He had begun to think he was inhuman, that he had become
permanently numb to feeling all emotion. But, at that moment, he was finally
able to release his feelings and to weep. The young man than added that,
“Whoever knows how to weep knows how to laugh.”
On Tisha
B’av we mourn generation’s worth of pain, sorrow and loss. The words of kinnos
are almost unbearable to read. It’s hard to grasp all the national tragedy we
have suffered for so long. And yet, in the middle of Tisha B’av itself we begin
to accept consolation. At midday we sit back up on chairs, don our tallis and
tefillin, and recite Nachem, the prayer for comfort, during Mincha.
In a
certain sense, the pain itself is the source of our comfort. The very fact that
we still recall the pain of the past is the clearest indication that our past
losses are not bygones or events that have been relegated to the dustbin of
history. Rather, they are part of a bigger story which is still being written.
It’s a story that contains drama, tragedy and suffering, but a story that we
know will have an incredible suspenseful climax that isn’t too far off. The
prophets already told us the story. Now, we are awaiting to see exactly how it
will play out.
Pain is
never anticipated or enjoyed, but when it leads to greater heights and has
meaning it becomes bearable. Tisha B’av is a sad and tragic day, but therein
lies the source of our hope and consolation.
May we
celebrate Tisha B’av next week.
Shabbat Shalom & Good Shabbos
R’ Dani and Chani Staum