Chapter 96

On Tuesday, the seventeenth of Tammuz, a communal fast, I fasted. The period of Bein HaMetzarim, the Three Weeks, likewise began. In accordance with our custom, we began going to the Western Wall at midday to mourn the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash and recite Tikkun Chatzos, as is well known. Thus we spent that day. We prayed Minchah at the Wall and from there went to a synagogue to hear the Torah reading of “Vayechal.” On every day of that week I likewise went to the Western Wall at midday to mourn and lament the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash—particularly in days and a period such as this, over the exile and anguish of Israel, and so forth.

We received the Shabbos of Parashas Matos with joy. It is said that the Shabbosos of Bein HaMetzarim are exceedingly exalted, and that “all her pursuers”—those who pursue and seek to attain holiness—“overtake her between the straits.” When the king is traveling on the road, anyone can approach him with relative ease; when he is in his palace, however, one requires great merit and extensive preparation in order to enter and speak with him. Thus the holy Shabbos passed with joy and service, as on all Shabbosos.

During those days we heard that Rabbi Yonatan Binyamin Horowitz was gravely ill in a convalescent home. My neighbor Rabbi Jungreis and his wife went several times to visit him. I likewise wished to do so, but the opportunity did not arise. During those days we heard that he had passed away. In the morning I went outside my home and saw our neighbor, Rabbi Jungreis’s wife, weeping. She told my wife that Rabbi Yonatan Binyamin Horowitz, of blessed memory, had passed away, and spoke of what a great and precious man he had been and of the friendship between them, and so forth.

When I heard this, my heart wept within me. I had known him long before, already in Tzefas. He had been a great communal activist. During the years of war he had performed wonders in sustaining the souls of the poor, particularly Torah scholars and widows. He accomplished much in Amsterdam and other cities. Indeed, the principal sustenance of the people of Eretz Yisrael came from there through the communal activity, exertion, and administration of Rabbi Yonatan Binyamin Horowitz.

Announcements were made in the streets that the funeral procession would leave from Wallach Hospital. I therefore went outside the city to attend the funeral and encountered the procession near Yeshivas Chayay Olam. A great multitude accompanied it. The procession continued for some time, and many eulogies were delivered. My neighbor Rabbi Jungreis likewise delivered a eulogy. Thus they accompanied him to his eternal resting place.

At the conclusion of the shivah, a eulogy was held for him in the synagogue of Batei Machseh. The synagogue was filled with people. I wept profusely, with torrents of tears, over the departure of the deceased, of blessed memory, whose deeds were great, and also because he had been our friend and relative. Afterward they recited E-l Malei Rachamim with weeping and tears. May Hashem, may He be blessed, help so that “He will swallow up death forever, and Hashem will wipe the tear from every face.” Amen; so may it be His will.

The week of Parashas Masei likewise passed over us. Every day I was at the Western Wall at midday, as stated above. Many people were there each day, weeping and embittering themselves during the recitation of Tikkun Chatzos, and so forth. On Shabbos I was likewise at the Western Wall to pray Mussaf, as on every Shabbos Mevarchim.

On Sunday, Erev Rosh Chodesh Av, I traveled to the tomb of our mother Rachel, may her merit protect us, amen. There we spent still more time in weeping, pouring out our conversation, reciting the prayer for Bein HaMetzarim with weeping and tears, and so forth, and reciting Tikkun Chatzos. I wished to fulfill my wife’s vow, may she live, to bring olive oil to Rachel’s Tomb and to be in Chevron, but we postponed this until Erev Rosh Chodesh Elul.

I received the first day of the month of Menachem Av on Monday of Parashas Devarim. Several of our fellow Breslover Chassidim discussed traveling to Tzefas for the fifth of Av, in order to be at the tomb of the Arizal, of blessed memory, on the holy anniversary of his passing. They asked whether I wished to travel. The taste of my previous journey to fulfill my vow, however, together with the fears I had experienced on the road, as stated above, still remained in my mind. I therefore resolved not to travel, especially since I had so recently been at the holy places, as stated above. They traveled there and were at the tomb of the Arizal on Friday, the fifth of Av. Afterward they spent Shabbos Chazon, Parashas Devarim, in Meron at the tomb of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, may his merit protect us, amen.

Throughout Bein HaMetzarim I poured out my conversation with weeping every day at midday at the Western Wall. I contemplated in my mind the deficiencies, material and spiritual, both communal and personal, and mourned and wept over the sacred sanctuary of the mind and heart, which was distant from Hashem, may He be blessed, and so forth. As Moharanat, of blessed memory, said: “He could cool and relieve his heart only during Bein HaMetzarim and Tishah BeAv, and every night at midnight.” At those times he would weep so intensely that he relieved his heart—until he cooled his heart.

This was particularly so over the communal calamity: the Beis HaMikdash was destroyed, Israel was afflicted and storm-tossed, and whatever was holier than another thing was more desolate than it. The heart surely weeps and laments continually, especially during Bein HaMetzarim, which is “a time to weep.” In particular, through this weeping and lamentation one actually builds the Beis HaMikdash. Hashem, may He be blessed, promised concerning those who mourn for Yerushalayim “to give the mourners of Tzion beauty in place of ashes.” As is brought in the words of Rabbainu, of blessed memory, this mourning itself is regarded as though one builds the Beis HaMikdash.

It is brought in Likutay Halachos from Moharanat, of blessed memory, that the entire concept of lamentation is that one feels within the heart the magnitude and intensity of the beauty, vitality, glory, and grace that we possessed when the Beis HaMikdash stood and when we were close to Hashem, may He be blessed, and so forth. The same is true in the personal sense: one’s soul is a portion of God above, rooted in the souls of the tzaddikim, and the Holy One, blessed be He, formerly delighted in one’s soul; now, however, one has descended to the lowest level, is distant from Hashem, may He be blessed, and loses boundless spiritual vitality, and so forth. One therefore yearns and longs for Hashem, may He be blessed, with an exceedingly powerful desire for that goodness and vitality, until from the abundance of desire and longing one weeps and relieves one’s heart through it—one cools one’s heart. One then consoles and gladdens the heart with the knowledge that ultimately it will return to its stature and goodness. This is why one must always conclude with words of consolation, and so forth.

It is brought in the writings of the Arizal, of blessed memory, that weeping at midday during Bein HaMetzarim is a great benefit for one’s soul, and so forth. On Friday, Erev Shabbos, however, Tikkun Chatzos is not recited by day, for the sanctity of Shabbos already rests upon the world. At that time it is truly as though the Beis HaMikdash has been built, for Shabbos is higher than the Beis HaMikdash. Shabbos is the power of vision that illuminates the eyes, and this itself is the Beis HaMikdash. Therefore, whenever the Torah mentions the building of the Beis HaMikdash, it first warns concerning the observance of Shabbos, for Shabbos is higher than the Beis HaMikdash, and so forth.